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She took a step toward the door, then another, eyes planted on the staircase, making sure neither occupant of the home would return. When she reached the door, she pulled slightly, quietly, on the handle.
The door stayed firm. Locked.
She hadn’t noticed Bruno stopping to lock the door, but apparently, he had. She had to give him credit. He was smarter than he looked.
Then she noticed the nearby picture window, to the left of the door, over the eating nook. It was large, wide open, and easily accessible.
Side-stepping her way over, climbing through the overgrown flowerbeds, she calculated the size of the opening, determining that yes, she could fit inside.
A small setback, but still worth the risk.
Hoisting herself up on the sill, Daisy lifted one leg onto it, and slipped in on her stomach, easily rolling onto a padded bench in the bay window.
She sat up and crept the rest of the way, to the island.
The phone was already lit up with a message. She could only see part of it, but it was from her doctor:Tamblin: Miss Tate, please don’t hesitate to contact me should you be h . . .
She tapped the phone display. Of course, it was locked with facial recognition, and didn’t open.
Dumbly, she stared at it, realizing how stupid she’d been. She had no idea what code to use. Daisy supposed if Kiki was being genuine, she’d have chosen her wedding date to Franklin, or Franklin’s birthday, but she didn’t know those.
As she set the phone down, she heard floorboards shift upstairs.
Then, what sounded like inconsolable sobbing.
It sounded like Kiki.
Someone with her voice said, “You don’t understand. No one does. They think I killed him. Just leave me alone.”
Closer, Bruno’s high-pitched, surfer-boy voice said, “No more alcohol. I’m going to fetch you some tea. You need to rest.”
More shifting floorboards.
Tea. He was coming downstairs.
Then, her phone started to buzz in her pocket. It was on silent, but in the perfect quiet, the buzzing felt like thunder.
Wasting no time, Daisy vaulted for the window and slipped through, landing on her hands and knees in the flowerbed. Scrambling to her feet, she didn’t waste time dusting herself off. She rushed to the gate and made her exit, then grabbed her phone.
She had a missed call from Independence Court.
What time was it there? She quickly did the calculation and realized it was just after two. Probably one of the nurses, giving a daily update. She called back.
“Hi, Daisy, it’s Sara. Just wanted to let you know your dad had a good day.”
Daisy sighed with relief. “That’s great. Has he been asking about me?”
The nurse said in her perpetually cheerful way, “No, actually. He remembered what you told him—that you were going on a trip. He did say he couldn’t wait until he was better so he could help you out, but you know him.”
“Yeah, I do,” she said with a little sadness. Poor Edward Fortune, never losing hope that he could one day resume the career he’d loved so much. “Thank you for checking in.”
She looked back at the villa, and for an instant, she thought she saw a sheer curtain move slightly. Was it the wind or her imagination . . . or was someone watching her?
“No problem! I hope you’re enjoying Italy!”
“France. Actually, I’m in France right now,” she said, meandering to the corner, away from the villa.
“Wow. You do get around!”
