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“Arabella said they were the Who’s Who before, but if that were still true, I would know them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, wow. You didnotjust say that, implying that you’re the Who’s Who too.”
Ryland tipped his head to catch her eye. His lush lips bent into an amused grin. It looked good on him, damn him! “I didn’t mean to saythat. I just meant they’re not around anymore. There might have been a change in their fortune. The weird part, usually when a family like that vanishes from the public eye, people notice.”
“And?”
“I’ve never even heard of them. I’ve heard of their old product but nothing else.”
“That’s weird because all the rich people in the world know each other,” she offered, skeptical.
“No,” he laughed. “But therich peoplein New York City sure do. It’s a small enough world.”
“Well, sure. Over eight million people, but you all know each other,” she mumbled.
“Maybe that’s why they kept a vase. They sold it on the black market and used that money to start somewhere else.”
“Farfetched,” she chided.
“Not at all. I’ve actually run into that same kind of trouble before. Usually, the item sold is stolen, which is where I come in.”
This caught her attention. “You really do that?” she asked. “Like a spy?”
He chuckled. “Not quite a spy, no. But our clients pay me a lot of money to retrieve stolen items. Sometimes, I can easily do my job behind a desk. Other times, I need to travel and knock some heads together.”
“I don’t understand what your life is,” she said before bending down over her phone. “Listen to this. The Bonetti olive groves were sold in 1961.”
“The year before the vase was given,” he mused.
“Exactly. I wonder why they would give away a priceless piece of art if they were having to sell their farms. Maybethat’s why they sold the groves?” She scrunched up her face. “That doesn’t make sense. They would still have their farm if they sold the vase.”
“Let’s think about this,” he said as he expertly took a turn along the narrow streets. “Do we knowwhythe groves were sold?”
She read on. “It only says that the family moved from Italy to here after selling the groves.”
“That’s odd,” he said.
“Odd? How?”
“They sold their fields. Their crop. Then they moved to a whole other continent where they were part of the NYC scene for a hot minute.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to be olive magnates anymore.”
He snorted. “That would be like saying us Wolvertons wouldn’t want to be in the protection agency anymore. It’s part of who we are.”
“They got tired of working the olive groves, sold their land, and came here. Then, they realized that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side,” she offered.
“Perhaps,” Ryland said.
When they pulled up the last address of Luigi Bonetti, it was clear the Bonetti family no longer owned the property. A big red sign over the refurbished home now readFlowers by Fiore.
“That name is familiar. Fiore. That was the name of the victim! Dino Fiore was killed in Rome forhisvase.”
Ryland nodded as he parked the car. “Before we go in there, remember that we can’t tip our hand. We don’t know if these people are involved in the murders or not.”
“I was just about to tell you the same thing,” she replied.
“I’ve done the whole interview thing in my line of work.”
