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"A lot of signs pointing in the same direction."
She could see where he was going, and she didn't like it."Really, Nick?"
"We need to go to Florence tomorrow, Isabella.Things are moving fast.We're getting close to something."
"I feel like we're getting farther away."
"No.We're making connections.We just need more of them, and it might be good to get out of Rome for a while."
"That might be true.There is one other thing I forgot to tell you.Joelle said her grandmother had a ring like Tomas's.She might still have it.Her father is going to ask her."
"What else did Joelle have to say?I wondered why she'd whisked you away."
"She said little, just that her boyfriend, or her lover as she called him, Colin Devonshire, is one of Dario's lawyers.I asked her to talk to him about the theft of Leoni's painting at Dario's gallery."
Nick frowned."I'm not sure that was a good idea."
"Me, either.I don't want Joelle to get hurt because she's asking questions for me, and we don't know anything about Dario.What if he's involved in all this?I'm going to text her not to say anything."She took her phone from her clutch and sent Joelle a text that she didn't need her to ask Colin about David Leoni or the robbery at the gallery.She'd explain more later.After sending the text, she put down the phone."I hope she gets my text before she talks to him."
"I didn't see her or her lover while we were being questioned," Nick commented.
She started at his words."I didn't see them, either.They must have been held in another room."Letting out a weary sigh, she sat back in her chair."I have too many questions and not enough answers."
"I know that feeling."
"I also feel kind of sorry for Catherine.I don't know why."
"I'd save your compassion until we know what she did or didn't do," Nick returned."You realize this isn't just about finding the paintings anymore, Isabella.It's about murder, and I'm not just talking about Catherine.It's about Lucinda and Tomas.Maybe my grandfather.Perhaps Juliette.The bodies are adding up and we have to figure out who's making that happen before there are any more deaths."
His words sent another chill down her spine along with a wave of frustrated hopelessness."How are we going to do that, Nick?"
"I'm not sure, but we will figure it out.I don't just want the paintings back.I want justice.I want people to pay for what they've done.Some of them may be dead already, but not all of them."
She felt the same resolve."I want the same thing, Nick.We'll go to Firenze tomorrow.We can visit the gallery, see if we can find the person who had David's painting before it went missing, and we can talk to my mother."
"It's the right move," he said.
"I'll talk to her about the mystery, the history, but not about her and me.So don't think you're going to be part of making some family reunion happen."She waved a warning finger in his direction."This is business."
"Got it.I would never force you to talk to your mother.It's your choice."
"And I've made it," she said, appreciating his words.She got up to turn off the kettle and make them some tea."I hope this works," she said a few minutes later as she took their drinks to the table."Because after what I just saw, I don't think I'm going to sleep any better tonight than I did last night."
"Let's stay together.I'll take the lounger in your room."
She knew she should tell him no, but she didn't want to argue, and the real truth was that she didn't want to be alone.
"We're just going to sleep," Nick added."Unless…"
It was a little difficult to resist his questioning gaze, because losing herself in Nick sounded like a much better way to spend the night than thinking about Catherine dying right in front of her.But if she was going to be with Nick, it wouldn't be because she wanted to forget something.
"We're just going to sleep," she said firmly."And don't ask me again, because that might make me want to change my answer, and I really don't think I should."
He smiled."Fair enough.No more questions about anything tonight.But tomorrow is a new day."
Nick found sleeping in the lounger in Isabella's small room to be more comfortable than his bigger bed downstairs, and that had a lot to do with her being close to him.They'd spent so much time together that being apart felt odd.Somehow, after everything that had happened, they both managed to sleep.And when he woke up Monday morning, Isabella was already out of bed, dressed, and making coffee when he got into the kitchen.
He filled a mug because he needed coffee, and he needed to see her face, and he wasn't sure which was more important.
