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“But we have a connection,” Alyssa added simply. “Maybe it’s as simple as that.”
“It doesn’t sound very simple,” Janine said, tucking Alyssa’s hair behind her ear.
Alyssa ignored her, gazing across the living room, where Francesca gestured a question: would you like dessert? And, laughing, Alyssa nodded, tying her hair up in a ponytail as her eyes glistened. Something was happening. She was no longer the same Alyssa she’d been several hours before.
And just like that, Janine thought,I’ve lost her.
But she wasn’t even sure what she meant by that.
ChapterThirteen
Alyssa announced the following morning that it was time to go to Mauricio Gionnocaro’s house— they’d waited too long as it was. She then stuffed herself with a chocolate croissant, swallowed the single gulp of espresso in her cup, and hurried upstairs to shower. The stream of water came a split second later, interrupting the groggy thoughts in Janine’s very slow morning mind.
“I guess we have an agenda for today,” Maggie said.
“Chop chop,” Janine said sarcastically.
After they dressed and headed out the door, Alyssa explained the reason for the renewed energy. Nico knew the curator at the Mauricio Gionnocaro House, and the curator had agreed to let the three of them into the back halls, where the “good stuff they don’t let anyone see” was kept.
The Mauricio Gionnocaro House was probably three times as big as Teresa’s villa, with ornate pillars along the front, a dramatic sculpture of a fallen angel battling a snake outside, and a grand hall with high ceilings upon first entrance. Upon the ceilings were paintings of dramatic scenes that seemed to depict the final days of earth, when heaven and hell battled till the end.
“Can you imagine wanting this in your house?” Maggie whispered.
“Not unless you want nightmares,” Janine said.
At the front desk of the museum, Alyssa announced who they were and that the curator knew to expect them. A moment later, a very beautiful Italian woman with shiny, jet-black hair stepped out of the back hallway.
“Alyssa? Hello! My name is Barbara.” Barbara, the curator, stuck her hand out for Alyssa to shake, and as she did, Alyssa looked crestfallen.
It occurred to Janine that Nico hadn’t mentioned his curator friend being a very attractive woman. Alyssa was jealous— but she was also a professional. She wanted to get to the bottom of this, no matter what her personal feelings were.
“Good morning,” Alyssa said, her voice wavering only slightly. “This is my mother, Janine, and my sister, Maggie.”
“Welcome to the Mauricio Gionnocaro House,” Barbara said, turning so that her glorious hair fell like a curtain around her shoulders and over her back. She then began to lead them through the house, toward the back halls, where the “secret collection” was presumably kept. “Nico tells me that you’re on a quest to discover the truth about your family?”
“Something like that,” Alyssa said.
“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mauricio Gionnocaro is some sort of connection,” Barbara went on. “He was a fascinating man. Through the process of setting up this museum, we learned so much more about the secret society than ever before. Some people, those who clung to the secret society and its mysticisms, tried to get in the way of us learning more.”
“What happened?” Maggie asked.
“A few of our founders were threatened,” Barbara said. “A house was burned to the ground. A dog was kidnapped. Goodness, it was a mess. I wasn’t around yet, but I heard the stories over and over again. You see, museum founders like to think of themselves as Indiana Jones types.” She winked at Alyssa.
Barbara procured a very large, old key from her back pocket and opened a massive wooden door for them, behind which were the hidden records of the museum— that which they didn’t let everyone parse through. At a table in the back of the large room was a very old woman at a sewing machine who glared at them behind half-moon glasses.
“That’s Elena,” Barbara explained quietly. “She’s repairing the old curtains meant to hang in the upstairs rooms. She has to be here while you go through everything, just to keep an eye out. It’s for legal reasons. I hope you don’t mind?”
“We understand,” Alyssa assured her.
Elena continued to glare at them from behind the sewing machine, as though, in coming into the back, they’d interrupted her concentration. Janine tried to smile, but it fell from her face.
“You’ll find that everything is labeled,” Barbara went on, taking them through the aisles of bookshelves and cabinets. “Photographs. Letters. Old diaries. Books. Trinkets. All of it was taken either from this house or the houses of Mauricio’s contemporaries, of which there were many.” Barbara paused, her eyes widening as though she’d just fully realized the depths of their task. “How long do you think you’ll need?”
“Probably all day,” Alyssa admitted, glancing at Janine and Maggie.
“We’ll probably need breaks here and there,” Janine said with a laugh.
“Of course,” Barbara said. “There’s a wonderful little lunch spot around the corner. Fabrizio’s. We always pop in when we need something.”
