Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2) (6 page)

“Do you think Giuseppe knows more
about the Mafia than he admitted?” Sofia asked. She and Nicholas were on the
ferry back to Manhattan. She gazed with half-closed eyes at the water
shimmering in the evening sun. It had warmed up during the day, but the
evenings and nights were still rather cold, in the low fifties and high
forties. Sofia inhaled the salty smell of the harbor and listened to the sound
of the waves breaking against the ferry.

“I wonder,” Nicholas mused as they
went inside to get out of the nippy weather. “According to Mario, his nickname
is ‘mobster’ after all.”

“Yes, and he knew about the bodies
buried on the mob’s properties. Strange.”

“But if that’s really true, and
the skeleton was buried by some mobster, then that would mean … they’re in
California. We may be in more trouble than we originally thought.” Nicholas
stared at Sofia.

“Well, let’s not get carried
away,” Sofia said. “It may just be a coincidence that we found the bones on our
property. It doesn’t necessarily mean some Mafia guy buried them.”

Nicholas shrugged. “One thing is
for sure. I’m glad we went to see the Staten Island family. They’re a lot nicer
than I expected. Too bad Mario had to leave early. I would’ve liked to pick his
brain about Giuseppe some more.”

“I’m glad we got that note from
Bardonico,” Sofia said. “I think it’s a sign. It arrived just before I’m
leaving for Italy.”

“Oh, no, you’re not going to play
detective, are you?” Nicholas sounded worried. “I hate letting you go by
yourself. I’d really like to come along.”

“Now, listen.” Sofia slapped his
arm playfully. “I’m not going to get involved in anything dangerous. But
wouldn’t it be wonderful if I did find someone who knows something about Uncle
Angelo?”

“Yes, of course. But we really don’t
know what he’s involved in, or even if he’s still alive. If he does have
anything to do with the mob …” Nicholas hesitated.

“Well, if what Giuseppe said was
true, we have to worry about the Mafia in this country,” Sofia said. “You going
back to California may be more dangerous than me going to Italy. If Angelo had
to run away from the mob, he went to Italy because he felt safer there, don’t
you think?”

“But we don’t know if he was
running away from the mob,” Nicholas said. “He could be one of them. And Italy,
after all, is where the Mafia originated.”

“He was running away from
something,” Sofia mused. “He said he had to disappear.”

“Whatever you do, please be
careful,” Nicholas begged.

“Nicholas, please, I’m not a
damsel in distress. You don’t have to save me. And I’m not an idiot. Of course
I won’t do anything dangerous.”

“I’m just a worried husband. What
can I say? Besides, I’d love to come with you, not just because I worry but
because I’d like to see the Santuccis again, Julietta and the rest of them. And
I’ll miss you.” He put his arm around Sofia and kissed her. “But I can’t really
leave the work in the vineyards up to Grandpa. I’ll have to be there.”

“I know. I’ll miss you too, of
course. But I’ll be only gone for a few weeks. And fortunately, Julietta will
be with us this fall. Next time, though, you’ll need to come along, too.”

The following few days, Sofia and Nicholas did some more
sightseeing. They visited the Rockefeller Center in the evening when it was all
lit up and watched the people skate on the ice rink that was still open for a
couple of days. They strolled through Greenwich Village and took a tour on a
bus around the city. They enjoyed the vibrant atmosphere of New York City.

Soon, however, the time of
separation came, too fast for both of them. They left on the same day, but
Sofia’s plane was scheduled to take off earlier. They had a cup of coffee at
the airport before Sofia had to go through security. When they said goodbye,
Sofia’s excitement about seeing Julietta and the Italian family again was
tempered by regret about leaving Nicholas behind. A lot had happened the past
few weeks, and she would feel better if they could stay together.

They kissed goodbye and Sofia
promised to call Nicholas as often as possible. “You be careful, too,” she
warned him.

“You’re telling me?” Nicholas hugged
her hard. “Well, enjoy your stay and say hello to everybody … and be—”

“Yes, I’m going to be careful.
Please don’t worry. And stay away from the mobsters in California.”

Nicholas gave a quick grin. They
waved at each other. After showing her passport at the customs counter, Sofia
looked back, and waved once more. She went through security and walked toward
the gate with a heavy heart. She shook her head.
Stop being sentimental.
It’s going to be fun.

Sofia exhaled deeply as she got off the plane in Florence.
She hated long-distance plane trips, but at least flying from the East Coast of
the United States to Europe was a few hours less than from California. She
grabbed her suitcase on the luggage carousel and went outside. Unlike the nippy
weather in New York, the temperature here was pleasantly warm and the sun was
shining.

She checked the time. It was early
morning, so it must be evening the day before in California. Nicholas should
still be up. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse to text him.

Just
arrived in florence, flight ok, weather perfect, how are u?

A few minutes later, her phone
beeped.

Sweetie,
so glad to hear from you, everything ok here. Mat picked me up, miss u, love u ***

Miss
u too, call u from vignaverde, love ***

Putting her phone away, she looked
around and took a deep breath. “Spring in Italy,” she murmured. “What a
pleasure.” She hailed a taxi, which took her to Florence. She was going to meet
with Adriano Gori, the lawyer who had taken care of the accounting and finances
for her father’s vineyards in Vignaverde and now took care of hers. He had been
very supportive when she first came here to meet the sister she had known
nothing about and to claim her property. They had become good friends.

The first thing she did when she
got to the center of the city was walk to a coffee shop and order an espresso.
None of the
espressi
she had tried anywhere else could compare with the
ones she had tasted in Italy. They served it with a glass of water. After a sip
of the fragrant, slightly bitter dark brew, her lips stretched into a smile.
I’m
back
. She grabbed her cell phone and called Adriano.

“
Buongiorno
, Sofia.” His
dark voice sounded pleased. “
Come stai
?” Adriano switched to his fluent
but somewhat formal English. They arranged to meet in half an hour.

Sofia walked the short distance to
his office in Oltrarno, the older part of Florence. She liked this less
touristy neighborhood with its small stores, art galleries, coffee shops, and
bars. As she crossed the Arno River, she inhaled the musty scent of the water.
The river was a muddy brown. It looked as if it had rained recently.

Adriano’s office was on the second
floor above a coffee shop and bar. Sofia climbed the stairs and smiled as she
remembered his love of strong espresso, preferably with a shot of grappa on the
side. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had picked the location of his office
with his favorite drink in mind.

When she entered, his secretary,
an elderly, skinny woman, her gray hair arranged in an elaborate bun on her
head, greeted her warmly. “
Signora
Segantino, how are you?” She got up
and gave Sofia a quick hug.

“
Grazie, Signora
Amanda … I
thought we were on a first-name basis,” Sofia said.

“Oh, that’s right.
Mi dispiace
.
I am sorry. My memory is not as dependable as it used to be.” She rolled her
eyes. “Besides, you have not been here in a while.”

“I know, it’s been too long. But
we’ve been really busy in California,” Sofia said.

“Well, this is good news, no?”
Amanda motioned her to the door of Adriano’s office. “Go right ahead. He is
waiting for you. Would you like some coffee? Water?”

“I just had an espresso, but, yes,
why not? I have to take advantage of the excellent Italian coffee,” Sofia said.
“And perhaps some water. It’s quite warm already.”

“Oh, yes, summer is not too far
away.” Amanda smiled.

Sofia knocked on the door to her
lawyer’s office and entered. It was a fairly large room with a big window and
tons of filing cabinets and bookshelves along the wall.

Adriano peered at her over his
reading glasses, then removed them and got up. “Sofia. It is a pleasure to see
you again.” They hugged briefly. He stepped back and smiled at her. “You look
splendid. California and married life must agree with you.”

Sofia sat on a chair on the other
side of his desk and smiled at his gentlemanly behavior. Adriano was a handsome
man in his fifties, a little taller than Sofia, somewhat on the stocky side but
well proportioned. He had black hair and lively dark eyes. His olive skin made
him look like he spent most of his time at the beach. Sofia knew, of course,
that this wasn’t true. He was a busy and hardworking man. A year before, he and
his German-born wife, Gerda, had taken their first vacation in years on her
insistence and visited California. They had stayed with Sofia and Nicholas for
a few days. Sofia had fond memories of their time together.

“How are you and your family?”
Sofia asked.

“Wonderful.” He smiled. “Gerda
says hello. Marcello moved to Roma. He got a job as a lawyer there. It is a
great opportunity for him. Unfortunately, we do not see as much of him as we
would like. But he is happy, so we are happy.” He shrugged. “Lucia is still
with us though. She is in her last year at the
università
.

“And how is everything in
California?” He grabbed a folder from his desk and opened it, then looked up.

“Fine, everybody is healthy.
Nicholas sends his regards. We’re busy with the vineyards as usual. Well, we do
have some problems, actually it’s more of a family matter.”

“Oh?” Adriano raised a quizzical
eyebrow.

“Yes. It’s kind of a long story
that started twenty years ago.” Sofia hesitated. Adriano sat up straight and
gave her an encouraging nod. Sofia told him about the disappearance of
Nicholas’s great-uncle, the hints in his wife’s diary that he was in trouble,
that there might even be some connection to the Mafia, and the discovery of the
bones of his friend in their new field. She also mentioned the postmarked
letter from Italy and the fact that she would like to find out more about
Angelo’s whereabouts.

“Hmm,” Adriano murmured after she
finished her story. He put his elbows on the desk, folded his hands underneath
his chin, and looked at her, seemingly deep in thought. Then he shook his head
and grinned. “This is quite a story. Sofia, you seem to attract mysterious and
questionable happenings.”

Sofia gave an apologetic smile.
“It’s not me, this time, Adriano.”

Adriano’s face was serious again.
“I just do not know what to tell you. If this great-uncle Angelo is hiding in Italy
… the question is, why is he hiding? Has he committed a crime? But you
mentioned the diary and the fact that he had witnessed something and that this
is the reason he disappeared. So, perhaps, he wasn’t the one who committed a
crime.” Adriano sighed. “But as long as we do not know and, particularly, if
you suspect that the Mafia either here or in the US is involved, you have to be
very very careful. Just trying to find out his whereabouts could endanger his
and your own life.” Adriano’s voice had become stern. “The mob has no
conscience and if they feel threatened, they are able to kill without a second
thought. Be very careful, Sofia.” He sounded truly worried.

Sofia shook her head. “I wouldn’t
do anything dangerous. But this whole story affects our family. Our neighbor
blames our grandfather, Angelo’s older brother, and the police are
investigating. Although the skeleton is almost twenty years old and was
obviously buried long before we bought the land, still we’re involved.”

“I understand,” Adriano said. “But
that is why you should leave the investigation to the police.”

Sofia nodded. “You’re right. I may
just leave it alone. Nicholas and Grandpa Martin are worried about me, too.”

“Yes, do not play detective,
Signora
Segantino.” Adriano shook his finger at her as if he was scolding her. “But I
know you are a determined woman and probably will do what you want to do
anyway. Just be very careful. Okay? And if you have any questions or concerns,
ask me, please.”

“Don’t worry, Adriano. I have no
intention of jeopardizing my life.”

“Good. Well, let’s talk about
Vignaverde then. The estate has had a few excellent years. You should be
satisfied with the proceeds.”

They spent the rest of Sofia’s
visit going over the accounting of the property in Vignaverde. Sofia had
inherited two vineyards with Sangiovese and Merlot grapes. She had made her
sister’s mother, Luisa, and Luisa’s brother, Edoardo, who owned the rest of the
estate co-owners of her vineyards as well. They did all the work during Sofia’s
stay in California. They had paid her for their share, and this way, she had
alleviated their fears that she was going to sell her property, which would
have been a real loss for the family and the estate.

At around noon, Sofia left
Adriano’s office. She walked to the rental agency nearby where she had reserved
a car for her stay in Italy. By now, she knew her way around Florence quite
well and wasn’t as uptight about driving there as she had been during her first
visit. Traffic wasn’t too hectic since it was noon and people were having
lunch.

Once outside the city borders,
Sofia relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful countryside. The high point in spring
were the fields full of red poppies and blue cornflowers next to lanes of
cypress trees, stone pines, and large stretches of vineyards and olive groves.

After about forty minutes, the
impressive Etruscan city walls of Vignaverde, a typical Tuscan hill town,
greeted her. She drove past the town toward the estate Podere Francesco Ginori.
Soon, the familiar buildings, the winery, cellar and storage sheds appeared
around a bend in the highway. She took the narrow road up the hill to the main
house, a beautiful stone house with ocher walls and green shutters. When she
parked the car in the driveway, the front door opened and Julietta came rushing
out. Sofia got out of the car and the two sisters hugged.

“My God, how grown-up you look.”
Sofia stepped back and looked her sister over. She had last seen her two years
before when she visited her and the family a second time.

Julietta looked radiant. She had
cut her long wavy chestnut-colored hair that had reached the middle of her back
when Sofia had seen her last. Now, it fell to her shoulders in natural curls
and waves. It made her look a little more mature. She seemed to have grown a little.
They hugged again. A few seconds later, her mother, Luisa, and Donna,
Julietta’s grandmother, stepped outside. More hugging and greeting in English
and Italian.

Luisa had been the girlfriend of
Sofia’s father. Henry Laverne had fallen in love with her while he was still
married to Sofia’s mother. The relationship between Henry and Sofia’s mother,
Cleo, however, had been faltering. Nevertheless, Henry had kept the love affair
with Luisa as well as the existence of his Italian daughter a secret. When Sofia
found out, she had been in emotional turmoil and shock. It had taken some time
before she was able to forgive her father for what she felt was a betrayal. She
didn’t fault him for his affair but for his having kept it hidden from her for
so long.

Sofia went to drop off her
luggage at her own house, which was a smaller version of the two-story main
house. It stood next to an olive grove and a couple of pine trees. She
freshened up a little and joined the others at the main house. In the meantime,
Luisa’s brother, Edoardo and his wife, Gina, had arrived. They sat down to a
late lunch of roasted chicken and a plate of vegetables—tomatoes, eggplant, and
peppers—and wine from their Sangiovese and Merlot grapes.

Edoardo poured the wine and
toasted Sofia. “One of the best vintages in years,” he said.

After dessert and while sipping
espresso, Sofia filled them in about her life in California. Julietta showed
her the letter of acceptance from Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, where she
planned to study architecture and environmental design.

“She is getting nervous,” Luisa
said, chuckling.

Julietta sighed. “Yes, I am. Do
you think I shall do well?” She put her arm around Sofia.

“Of course, you will. You have
excellent grades. I bet you’ll do better than the American students,” Sofia
assured her.

They talked some more and Sofia
considered mentioning the story about Angelo, but she was getting tired from
the lunch and the wine. She decided to wait. All the family members took a
little break after lunch and Sofia went to take a nap.

Later in the evening, before going
to sleep, she tried to call Nicholas in California, but couldn’t get a hold of
him. It was morning in California, the day after they both left New York. He
was probably out in the vineyards. She called Martin and Maria. Martin answered
the phone. They chatted for a while and Grandpa Martin confirmed that Nicholas
was working outside.

“By the way,” Martin said. “I just
want to warn you again about … you know, being careful with trying to track
down Angelo.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to do
anything stupid.” Sofia rolled her eyes. Her grandfather was a little too
uptight about the whole thing.

“Well, particularly, after what
happened to your house. I mean, it may be connected to the whole mess.”

Sofia’s heart jumped. “What do you
mean what happened to our house?”

There was silence at the other
end. “Oh, … I guess you haven’t talked to Nicholas yet. Oh, dear.”

“No. We sent each other a text
message right after I arrived in Florence. He didn’t mention anything. Why? What’s
wrong?” Sofia’s mouth felt dry.

A sigh. “He probably didn’t want
to worry you. Everything is okay now. But here’s what happened.”