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"He was a big part of it.And she had given him far more reasons to hate her than I ever did.She hadn't just gotten pregnant; she'd also gone to jail."
"That couldn't have sat well with him."
"It didn't.But I think it just reinforced his opinion that she was no good, and I probably wasn't, either."She drew in a breath and let it out."Let's talk about something else.Tell me about the historian we're going to meet."
"I don't know anything about her except that my boss, Flynn MacKenzie, worked with her on art crimes.He said she'd be an excellent resource.Hopefully, it will be a productive meeting."
"It feels good just to get out of the house.Although, I wonder how safe the house will be if we're not in it."
"It wasn't particularly safe when we were in it.Or rather, you were in it."
"I was probably a surprise.They watched you leave and thought we'd all gone.Maybe we should search the house more thoroughly when we get back.What if the painting is there?"
"My grandmother said she is absolutely certain that there is no other painting by Tomas or Lucinda in her house."
"I'm sure she's right, but I might still look around when we get back."She paused, waving her hand toward the neighborhood."This is a nice area.Art historians must make some money in Italy, if she can afford to live here."
"I have no idea, but there's a lot of art and a lot of history here so maybe art historians are in demand."
"Probably.Being here reminds me how modern everything is where we live.And not just modern but also boring."
"I don't know about boring.Los Angeles has its own vibe: the film and music industry, the great weather, the beaches…"
"I do like the weather."
"Have you made friends in LA?"
"Not yet.But that takes time."
"It does," he agreed."When I was growing up and moving around with my parents, it always felt like it took a year in any new city to be comfortable, to really know people.And then it was usually time to leave and start over again."
"Some might say that was an exciting childhood."
"Some like my parents would agree with you.But it wasn't their childhood; it was mine."He paused as he maneuvered into a tight parking spot just down the street from Francesca's building."We're here."
They got out of the car and walked down the street.He pushed the button for 3B, and a woman answered in Italian, asking who was there.
"Nick Caruso and Isabella Rossi," he replied.
"Sí.Top floor."
The door buzzed, and they made their way up four flights of steep, stone stairs, which were typical for buildings in Rome.
"That was a workout," Isabella muttered breathlessly as they reached the top floor."Why don't Italians like elevators?"
"They prefer stairs to work off all the pasta," he said lightly, drawing a smile.
"Good point."
"And even with renovations, it's difficult to get elevators into these buildings."He was about to knock on the door when it opened, revealing an attractive blonde wearing tight jeans and a blue V-neck sweater that matched the blue in her eyes.She appeared to be in her late-thirties."Francesca Ribaldi?"he asked, surprised that the art historian wasn't someone older and more buttoned-up.
"Yes.Come in."She waved them to her apartment, which was far more modern than the outside of the building, with a white and gray color scheme that included plush carpeting, high-end furniture, and impressive sculptures in the vast living room that looked out over the city.The walls were covered with paintings, which appeared to be old and probably very expensive.Some were lit by small lights placed under the frames.
"Your place is beautiful," Isabella commented, pausing by one painting, which appeared to be a scene from ancient Rome."Whose work is this?"
"Fernando Albano, a not-so-well-known Italian painter from the seventeen hundreds, but someone whose work I very much like.His colors and brush strokes were bold for that time period.He was a visionary, and I like artists that paint more than anyone else can see," Francesca said."Would you like something to drink before we talk?"
"No, thanks," he said as Isabella shook her head, and they sat down in the living room.
