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Daisy held the phone to her ear, listening to Goldie chatter on and on about the arrest, hardly able to get a word in. Yes, Goldie kept piling praise on Daisy’s head, which should have felt good. But there was something wooden in Goldie’s tone.
After a big evening meal, Daisy was on the way to her hotel. She’d thought about taking a gondola ride, but that sounded a bit lonely, since she was solo. “You knew Matteo, back in the day, didn’t you? He gave your ex Italian lessons.”
“Yes, sweet kid,” she said. “Innocent. I’d have wrung Frankie’s neck if I knew he was doing that to our boy. He was so good. I just . . .”
As Goldie trailed off, Daisy suddenly understood. “You didn’t think he had it in him?”
“Exactly!” she announced, so loud it nearly blew out Daisy’s eardrum. “I never would’ve expected it from him. Sure, he was a bit of a party boy, easily led, not so bright. But I remember when he used to teach us Italian on the terrace. If there was a spider—and I hate spiders—he wouldn’t crush it. He’d look around for a paper cup or something to pick it up, and move it someplace where it would be safe. So killing a man? It seems beyond him.”
“But a spider didn’t cheat him out of money and his good name,” Daisy remarked, though the comment stuck in her head. She always wondered if she’d come to the right conclusion, during even the smallest cases, but this time, it felt especially strong.
Probably because this time, it’s a man’s life on the line. Most of your other cases didn’t have such high stakes.
“True, true,” Goldie said. “Well, then. All’s well that ends that way. I’m going to wire the rest of your money in a jiff, and maybe when you get back to town, I’ll treat you to lunch at my country club. How’s that?”
“Fine, fine,” Daisy said. “Thanks so much.”
“No, thankyou. Safe travels.”
She ended the call before Daisy could say anything else. Pocketing her phone, Daisy went into the modest hotel overlooking the canal, got her key, and went up to her room. She opened the door and looked out over the city. The moonlight glimmered over the glass-calm canals, and the smell of delicious foods filled the air.
Tomorrow, she would fly home. So that delicious meal, and this view, was about as close to enjoying Venice as she’d probably get.
As she was leaning over, spying a couple on a romantic gondola ride and imagining what that might feel like, someone knocked on her door.
When she opened it, she was surprised to find Kiki Tate standing there, dressed all in mourning black.
Before Daisy could react, the young woman enveloped her in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she said. “I just heard when I stepped off the boat, so I had to come over and tell you, in person. I always knew that something foul had happened on that plane. I’d had a bad feeling from the moment Frankie told me about that trip.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
She released her and looked around the room with distaste. “Oh, the police officer told me where to find you. He said that you worked it all out, you clever person, you. Well done.” Kiki patted her back. “I can’t believe that Matteo would do such a thing, especially since, well . . .”
Daisy frowned at her. There was something she seemed reluctant to say. “What is it?”
“Well, if it was about Frankie cheating Matteo out of money, that would be silly. Frankie had the money in another account for one of his other businesses. I’ve seen it. It was hundreds of millions. He had to wait a bit, for legal reasons or some such thing, but he was planning to take care of everything. He told Matteo that.”
Daisy straightened. “Are you sure? I heard . . . wasn’t he selling off parts of the island because he was in financial trouble?”
She laughed. “Trouble? No, not Frankie. He was selling it off because I didn’t use the plane, and I kept telling him how much I hated how far civilization was from our little place. We never went over to that side of the island, so he decided that he would sell it off to various businesses so I wouldn’t have to travel so far, and it’d be a little busier around here. As much as he loved to play games and joke around, he was a very shrewd man, so he knew what he was doing. Okay, yes, he was a little reckless and didn’t pay attention to the details, but his heart was in the right place. And he did all this . . . for me.” She beamed, then sniffled. “I can hardly believe he’s gone.”
Daisy stood there, still, taking this information in. So though Franklin Tate seemed to attract trouble, it wasn’t of the financial kind. “I thought people said you fought over money.”
“I told you, we made up! He sent me such a sweet message! And I felt so bad that I woke up early and put together his things for the trip.”
“The morning breakfast drink,” Daisy said, almost to herself. “But what about your spending? Wasn’t he upset about that?”
She laughed. “Oh, gosh, he complained that I didn’t spend enough. The truth is, I’m a simple girl. He always wanted to buy me things, and I told him no. He’d send me on these long shopping sprees, and I’d never buy anything. He hated when I did that!”
The world shifted a little for Daisy, at that moment. Everything she’d known about the case . . . it had been wrong.
So what else had she been wrong about?
“You said that you knew he flirted with other women. Is that right?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I was okay with that. I told you, he and I had an agreement."
“Yes, I know. You had an agreement that a little flirtation with other people was all right. As long as he knew he was coming home to you, right? But was there anyone else you were worried about? Someone that you thought might be getting too serious?”
