“Time to cut the cake,” I announce, brushing torn paper from my lap and reaching for the cake knife. The vanilla sponge is filled with cream and raspberry sauce, and my mouth waters as I hand out slices to the girls and then settle back with my own enormous piece.
Salvatore, Vinicius, Cassius, and Lorenzo are in the next room, and they’ve told me to enjoy myself and save them some cake. There’s no problem with that as the cake is huge. And I am enjoying myself. I’ve given myself permission not to think about a certain father and killer for a whole afternoon.
Sophia sits down on the opposite sofa, hugs an enormous teddy bear and sighs. “When am I going to have children? I’m so broody sitting here with all this baby stuff.”
“You need a man first,” Candace points out, forking some cake into her mouth.
Rosaline cups her hands around her mouth and in a loud whisper says, “You only need him for a few minutes. That’s all it takes.”
Sophia bursts out laughing. Turning to Nicole, she asks, “Do you want children?”
Nicole looks wistful as she gently bounces Camillo. “Oh, so much. I’ve wanted babies since I was a little girl. My family has a holiday house and I’ve always imagined taking my children there in the summer. Do you remember that house, Chiara? You came there a few times.”
I finish my mouthful of cake and nod. “They were wonderful holidays.”
There would be me and Mom, Nicole and Mrs. De Luca. Sometimes Dad would be there, and Mr. De Luca too, but work was always calling them away. Dad had mayoral work and Mr. De Luca is a medical researcher and always had to speak at conferences. Mom and Mrs. De Luca would cook, play cards, and drink wine, and Nicole and I would run around playing games all day.
“After the baby is born, you’ll have to come out to our holiday house in the summer,” Nicole tells me.
I give her a delighted smile. “I would love that, thank you. We always had the best times at your holiday house.”
How wonderful it would be to have a holiday home of our own. A place for me and my men and our children where we could relax and invite our friends. Somewhere with a big kitchen and a deck, and views of mountains or a beach or a lake. I explored some beautiful holiday homes with Mom while she was still alive. I usually saw every room because I loved to play hide and seek and would find the best hiding spots in the garage or the attic or the…
Chiara? Where are you? You know that the basement is out of bounds.
…basement.
A memory suddenly washes over me. A dark, frightening memory of a cold place filled with strange smells and damp concrete. The smells invade my nostrils and suddenly the raspberry jelly on my plate looks like smeared blood.
I get to my feet as my throat convulses.
Chiara, I know you’re down here.
“Chiara, are you all right?” Nicole is staring at me, her brow wrinkled in concern.
The urge to run is almost overpowering. I clench my fists at my sides. “I just need to…”
Without another word, I hurry out of the room. A window. I need fresh air. I head for the window at the end of the hall and fumble with the lock.
“Bambina, are you all right?”
I jump as a hand lands on my shoulder. It’s Cassius, and he’s gazing down at me with concern. I realize I’m still holding my cake fork like a weapon, brandished in my fist.
“I don’t know. I just got the strangest feeling.”
“Lorenzo!” he calls over his shoulder, and the blond man appears by my side. He feels my brow and presses his fingers to the side of my neck.
“Princess, what’s wrong? Christ, why is your heart rate so high?”
A holiday house. A basement. I never saw the videos, but I can hear their screams echoing off concrete walls. Screams of terror and pain that dissipate on the damp air and are blown to nothing in the wind.
“I just remembered something. A place I saw years and years ago.”
I can barely see my two men. The memory in my mind’s eye is blinding. I know where that basement is. I could be there within forty minutes. This time of year, the house is probably empty.
“A basement. Maybe it’s nothing, but I have to know for sure. Will the two of you drive me?”
They stare at me and then exchange glances. Lorenzo speaks first. “If you want to check something out, sure, but are you sure you want to leave your party?”
I glance toward the living room, feeling guilty for running out on my guests. I couldn’t even relax for half an hour without thinking about the killer. “This isn’t like my idea about Christian Galloway. This feels real. I have to know if I’m right.”
Cassius clasps my shoulder. “Of course, bambina. Just tell us where and we’ll take you.”
“Thank you.” I turn to Lorenzo. “Do you have lockpicks? Or something to break down doors, like an axe? We’ll have to break in. If I’m wrong then I’ll just have to find some way to pay for the damage.”
The sick feeling in my stomach doubles. Please, let me be wrong.
Lorenzo takes hold of my upper arms. “Princess, we’ll do this, but are you sure you’re all right? What’s come over you?”
I shake my head. “I can’t explain it. It’s a feeling. A horrible feeling. Maybe this is hormones or indigestion, and I will be more than happy to laugh about it later and you can make fun of me, but right now I’m not going to calm down until I’m in a car and we’re on our way.” I wipe sweat from my top lip and entreat him with my eyes.
Lorenzo nods. “All right, we’ll take my car.”
Salvatore is coming toward me and Vinicius is hovering behind him. I need them, too. This is about more than the five of us.
I reach for Salvatore’s hand. “Salvatore, I need you and Vinicius to do something for me, and it’s really, really important. I think it might be life and death.”
“Of course, we will,” he assures me. “Just tell me what you need us to do.”
I tell them what I told Lorenzo and Cassius, and ask if they’ll take all our guests to the compound.
Vinicius nods, and adds, “Sure, we can. But it might sound better if the request was coming from you.”
He means Nicole might be unwilling to go anywhere under their orders, which is a fair assumption. I head back into the lounge where the women are sitting up with worried expressions on their faces.
“I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to cancel the party.”
Ginevra gives a cry of dismay. “You’re not unwell, are you?”
I shake my head. “You all remember the Black Orchid Murders. Nicole, you have first-hand experience at pretending to be one of the victims. I’ve remembered something that might lead us to the killer, and I have to go now and see if I’m right. It’s all I can think about.”
Ginevra’s expression changes from worried to fearful, and she nods.
“Could you all please go with Salvatore and Vinicius to Lorenzo’s compound and wait there? We’ll be an hour, maybe two. That’s all I ask of you, to wait there until it’s safe and we know if I’m right or not.”
Rosaline stands up and comes toward me, her brow wrinkled with concern. “Of course we will, but you’re going to be all right, aren’t you? You and the baby?”