Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2) (7 page)

The plane for San Luis Obispo left on time. Nicholas shook
his head when the flight attendant presented him with an overpriced
unappetizing sandwich.
Flying has become a pain in the butt for more than
one reason
. Fortunately, he had bought a sandwich and some fruit in New
York and proceeded to eat his small meal.

“Good idea.” His neighbor, a young
man, pointed at Nicholas’s food. “I should’ve done that. The food on the plane
is not worth the money.”

“Yes, I learned my lesson on the
way over.” Nicholas offered him a piece of fruit.

“No, thanks, I’m fine, but I’ll do
the same next time.”

The two talked for a while, then
his neighbor began to read a magazine, and Nicholas, who had the window seat,
looked outside. The plane’s wing sliced through heaps of clouds. Nicholas hoped
they wouldn’t get caught in a storm, but after a while they rose above the
clouds and were surrounded by a pristine blue sky.

Nicholas, however, couldn’t settle
down. He thought of Sofia with longing and unease. He knew she wasn’t reckless,
but he couldn’t help feeling worried from all the talk about mobsters and
Angelo. Surely, though, Sofia knew better than getting herself involved in
anything dangerous.

At the San Luis Obispo airport, Nicholas’s brother was
waiting for him. After hugging each other, Matthew asked him about his visit.

“Great. We spent a few days
sightseeing and finally got to meet our infamous relatives who, by the way,
seemed a lot more pleasant and together than Grandpa made them out to be.”

Matthew laughed. “So, no mobsters
in the family, after all?”

“Well, not sure about that. I do
have some news about Great-Uncle Angelo. He may be in Italy, at least that’s
where he was eleven years ago.”

“Oh, yes?” Matthew glanced at him
with his sharp black eyes, then focused on the road again.

Matthew looked nothing like his
older brother. He was short and muscular, had curly brown hair, and his eyes
reminded Nicholas of the photo he had seen of Angelo. Matthew had inherited his
looks from the Italian side of the Segantino family whereas Nicholas’s blond
hair came from his grandmother’s German side.

“I’ll tell you more at home,”
Nicholas said. The car drove up the hill to their house. “Everything looks
fine. Anything new?”

Matthew cleared his throat.
“Everything is fine with the vineyards. But I have some bad … well somewhat
unpleasant news.”

“Oh, what? Anybody ill?”

“No, nothing like that … your
place was broken into.” Matthew stopped the car.

“What?” Nicholas felt his heart
speed up. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s not too bad. Nothing seems
to have been stolen. Of course, we’re not sure, you’ll have to check.”

“What happened exactly?” Nicholas
got out of the car and stared at the house.

Matthew followed. “Well, it
happened three days ago. I went to check on your place and saw it. They forced
one of the windows open. Inside was a mess. Some of the drawers had been ripped
out. Stuff was lying on the floor. Fortunately, he or they, whoever did it,
weren’t vandals. They didn’t destroy anything.” Matthew pulled out a set of keys
and handed them to Nicholas. “We had the locks changed.”

Nicholas felt faint as he unlocked
the door. He walked through the house, checked a drawer in the master bedroom
where Sofia kept some jewelry. It was still there. The TV and stereo were
undisturbed. He hurried upstairs and looked around the den. He noticed things
had been moved, but all the equipment was still there, except for an external
hard drive that had been sitting on the desk. Nicholas held his breath, then
shook his head. The hard drive was new and they hadn’t backed up anything on it
yet, and they had both taken their laptops along, so no personal information
was stolen. Fortunately, they also had taken along their cameras. They stole
the hard drive but nothing else. He opened the filing cabinets and the chest of
drawers. Things had definitely been disturbed but at first glance nothing
important was missing.

“This is just odd,” Nicholas said,
returning to the living room. “The hard drive is gone, but all the other
valuables are still here. Why didn’t they take more?” He let himself fall onto
the sofa. “I assume you called the police?”

“Oh, yes, and George Silver as
well,” Matthew said. “He thinks they may have been scared away before they
could steal more. Or they wanted to make it look like a burglary when in fact
they broke in because they were searching for something specific.”

“What were they looking for?”
Nicholas glanced at Matthew. “Perhaps the diary? Elvira’s diary?”

“Possibly,” Matthew said. “Silver
mentioned the diary. Fortunately, we gave it to him beforehand,” Matthew said.

Nicholas let his gaze travel
around the room. “I’m surprised at how tidy everything is. I was expecting a
mess.”

“We cleaned things up a little,”
Matthew said.

“Well, thanks. I really appreciate
it.” He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m kind of shook
up right now.”

“You can stay with us or at
Grandpa’s if you’re scared to be alone. But I don’t think they’ll come back.
The window is fixed, and we put safety locks on all the ones on the first
floor. You have new locks on the doors as well. You can always have an alarm
installed. Or get a gun.” Matthew chuckled.

Nicholas shook his head. “I hate
those things, both, guns and alarms. No, I’ll be okay. I’ll unpack and check on
Grandpa and Grandma. Everybody okay?”

“Yes, everybody is fine. Okay,
then, I’ll see you later. If you need anything, just holler.”

“Okay, man. Oh, and in case you
happen to talk to Sofia, don’t mention anything about this. I don’t want to
scare her.”

“My lips are sealed.” Matthew made
a zipper motion over his mouth.

After Matthew left, Nicholas went
slowly through the house again, checking all the rooms. The burglary or
whatever it was worried him. It was all clean now, but he still felt violated.
They had gone through their personal things. They? Who were they? What did they
want? All of a sudden he felt uncomfortable in his own home. He looked at his
watch. Sofia was somewhere over the ocean. He missed her and at the same time
he was glad she wasn’t here. She’d be worried about the break-in. He shook his
head, pushing away the unpleasant thoughts. He picked up the keys, locked all
the doors, and left.

Martin and Maria welcomed him and insisted he stay for a
late dinner. They all talked about the break-in. Martin was convinced they were
looking for something and that it had to do with the skeleton and Angelo and
the whole mess. Maria brought in some appetizers—olives and pickled
mushrooms—and Martin poured them a glass of wine. Nicholas then filled them in
on his visit and on the news about Angelo. He showed them the letter that was postmarked
eleven years before in the Piedmont.

“Italy?” Martin looked perplexed.
“What would he want in Italy? We don’t know anybody there anymore, at least not
that I’m aware of.”

“Giuseppe said he had given him
the name of an old friend of you guys’ father,” Nicholas said.

“Good grief.” Martin stared at
him. “Our father was a criminal from what my mother told us. He was killed in
some mobster brawl. We never found out the details though. Mom didn’t want to
talk about it. If Angelo got in touch with these kinds of people, then I fear
the worst.” He scratched his forehead and shook his head, then faced Nicholas.

“About the break-in,” he
continued. “I talked to George Silver. He promised to have someone keep an eye
on your place for a while.

“Maybe it was Frank, the
neighbor,” Nicholas said.

Martin gave a quick nod. “I
thought of that, too. I told him about the diary and that it had revealed that
Fred and Angelo worked for the same person and saw something that worried them.
He wanted the diary, but I told him I had given it to the police. Who knows, he
may not have believed me. I just don’t see him breaking in somewhere, though.
But perhaps he had someone else do it.”

They were quiet for a while, then
Maria told them dinner was ready. They sat down and Nicholas smiled when he saw
the dish. “My favorite.”

Maria had prepared a big plate of
spinach and spicy sausage lasagna. With delicious food and wine in his stomach,
Nicholas felt more relaxed again.

“By the way, Sofia took the return
envelope with the postmark from that town in the Piedmont along. She thought
she could make some inquiries while there.”

Martin stared at him. “Bad idea.
Much too dangerous.”

“She’s going to be careful. She
promised.” Martin’s reaction stirred Nicholas’s own fears again.

His grandfather gave him a stern
look. “Tell her to stop snooping. Let the police handle this.”

“Grandpa told me about the break-in.” Sofia stood by the
open window of her bedroom in Vignaverde, watching the sky color pink and
golden as the sun rose above the horizon.

“Yeah, it was quite a shock.”
Nicholas sighed. He told her that only the hard drive was stolen and that it
looked like someone was searching for something.

“The diary?” Sofia mused.

“That’s what we think,” Nicholas
confirmed. “George Silver and the police are informed.”

Sofia exhaled deeply. “This is
creepy though. I guess I’m glad I wasn’t there. I would’ve gone crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” Nicholas said.
“I could barely sleep the first night. But now, it’s okay. Fortunately, they’d
cleaned up everything and put things back. Matthew and the family had the door locks
changed and window locks installed downstairs. The house is like a fortress
now.”

“Well, good. But be careful,
Nicholas. I hope nothing else happens.”

“I hope not either. Anyway, how
are
you
doing? How is the family? And Julietta?”

“Everybody is fine. Julietta is
getting nervous about going to Cal Poly,” Sofia said. “By the way, I told
Edoardo and Luisa about Angelo. And Edoardo gave me the address of a friend of
the family who happens to live in the Piedmont, a woman by the name of Tina.
She lives in a town called Pavone. It might be a lead.” She didn’t want to tell
Nicholas that she was planning to drive there in a few days. She knew he’d be
worried.

“Be careful, please. We don’t know
what Angelo did. All we know is that he’s hiding from something or someone.”
Nicholas sounded alarmed.

Does he suspect I’m planning
something?
“Well, the danger seems to be at home, not here.” Sofia gazed at
the sky where the sun had now fully risen. “I didn’t get broken into,
you
did. I think I should be worried about you not the other way round. Nobody
knows my plans here.”

“I’ll be careful,” Nicholas
promised. “Are you going to the Piedmont to see that woman … Tina?”

Sofia didn’t want to lie outright.
“I may. It’s not that far from here.”

“But the letter wasn’t from
there,” Nicholas said. “It was from a different town. So why would Tina have
any information about Angelo?”

“Oh, not directly,” Sofia said.
“But knowing the area, she could tell me where the village is and perhaps give
me some advice how I could find out more. I don’t know. Perhaps, it’s a shot in
the dark. But it would be a nice outing anyway. I’ve never been to the
Piedmont. And from what Edoardo told me, Pavone is a lovely town and there is a
famous and beautiful castle there.”

“Okay.” Nicholas hesitated. “If
you go, you should take someone with you.”

“I might,” Sofia said. It was a
white lie. She was hoping for someone to join her, but she knew that everybody
would be busy.

“All right. If you go, please call
me every day, okay?” Nicholas seemed to be resigned to her plan.

“I’ll try to, but don’t forget my
cell might not work in every place. But I’ll definitely call either you or
Vignaverde. And I’ll be very careful not to stir up any mobsters.” Sofia
laughed.

“Okay, I trust you,” Nicholas
said.

“By the way, everybody says
hello,” Sofia said. “They miss you.”

“I miss them, too, and I miss
you.” Nicholas gave a sigh.

“Same here. Lock the house, okay.”

“I will, bye sweetie. Call me.”

After pressing the disconnect button on her phone, Sofia
went down to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. She took it into the living
room, sat on the sofa, and gazed through the window. By now, the fields looked
golden and purple and the sun had filled the hills with light and shadows. She
thought of her upcoming adventure and began to feel excited. Wouldn’t it be
great if she actually found Angelo?

Sofia opened the door to the patio
and stepped outside. Letting her eyes wander over the meadows nearby, she was
overwhelmed by the sight of colorful flowers everywhere. It was the first time
she’d been in Tuscany in spring. Whole fields of red poppies and blue
cornflowers complemented the vineyards with their symmetrical rows of vines.
Even her somewhat dilapidated wooden garden shed, which was partly covered by a
wisteria vine, looked regal with its coat of purple flowers. The sweet scent of
the patch of freesia in her garden brought a smile to her face. She listened to
the sound of birds, greeting the morning. A light breeze kicked up, rustling
the leaves on the trees. Although the days were already pleasantly warm, early
morning and evenings could still be nippy in April.

At lunchtime, Sofia walked over to the house of the Santucci
family. Inside, she was welcomed by a different kind of smell. It was saffron,
which meant her favorite kind of Italian risotto was being prepared. During one
of her earlier visits, Luisa had taught her how to make it, and it had become
one of her staple foods ever since.

“
Risotto ai funghi
?” Sofia
asked Julietta, who was setting the table.

“
Si
,” Julietta said. “
Mamma
knows how much you love it.”

“I sure do.” Sofia opened the door
to the kitchen where Luisa and Donna, Julietta’s grandmother, were cooking.

“Can I help?” Sofia asked.

Luisa shook her head. “No, it’s
almost ready.” She pointed at a large bowl of salad. “You can carry this
inside.”

Sofia grabbed the bowl and set in
on the table. At that moment, Edoardo and Gina, Luisa’s brother and his wife,
joined them. Normally, Edoardo and his wife had their meals at their place on
the estate. However, the two families, Luisa, Donna, Julietta and Edoardo’s
family often ate together.

“Where are the children?” Sofia
asked Gina. Edoardo and Gina had two children, thirteen-year-old Francesco and
ten-year-old Diana.

“They are with friends tonight,”
she said.

“A sleepover, as you Americans
would call it,” Edoardo added with a smile. He opened a bottle of estate wine
and soon everyone was seated, enjoying Luisa and Donna’s excellent meal of risotto
with porcini, fish, and vegetables.

After lunch, Donna, who was tired,
went upstairs. Julietta, who had some studying to do, said goodbye as well. The
rest gathered in the living room, drinking espresso, and talking.

Edoardo took a sip of coffee, then
turned to Sofia. “Tell us more about this mysterious
zio
Angelo.”

Sofia had given them a few details
when she asked them about the town that was mentioned in Angelo’s last letter
of eleven years ago. She took a deep breath. “It’s quite an involved story, but
this is what we know.” She told them about Martin and Angelo’s past, what she and
Nicholas had found out from the Segantino family in New York. She mentioned the
skeleton, the ongoing investigation, and the fact that they were trying to find
Angelo.

Edoardo was quiet for a while. His
sharp-featured face, the piercing dark eyes, and the short neatly trimmed beard
gave him a serious, almost solemn expression.

“I called Tina,” Luisa said,
referring to their friend in the Piedmont. “She knows where Bardonico is but
doesn’t know anybody there.”

“Well, it’s something,” Sofia
said. “I could drive there and perhaps I can find out something from the police
or someone in a store?”

Edoardo was looking doubtful.
“Well, that might be quite difficult. A name of a person from years ago, this
is all you have?”

“I also have a photo of Angelo, of
course an old one from twenty years ago.” Sofia realized how vague this all
sounded. “At least, I can try. Probably nothing will come of it, but I wouldn’t
mind visiting the Piedmont. It must be beautiful, and I’ve never been there.”

“The one thing I don’t understand.
Why did Angelo come to Italy?” Edoardo asked.

“Well, Martin and Angelo’s family
was originally from the Piedmont. Their mother brought them to the United
States when they were still boys. From what the Segantino family in New York
told us, there was an old friend of Angelo and Martin’s father still around.
Besides, Angelo was hiding from someone in the United States. Perhaps he felt
he would be safer in Italy.” Sofia lifted her hands and sighed. “We don’t
really know.”

“And you do not know if Angelo
killed his friend, the one whose bones you found?” Gina asked.

“We don’t believe he did. The
diary his wife wrote showed that he and his friend were working for a man and
it sounded like it was some kind of illegal work. She mentioned that Angelo and
Fred witnessed a crime.”

“Then why didn’t they go to the
police?” Edoardo asked.

“Most likely because the work they
did for their boss was illegal and the killer was a powerful man. The police
wouldn’t have believed them.”

Edoardo shook his head. “This
sounds more like Italy and its problems with corruption.”

“I guess it happens everywhere,”
Sofia said. “Anyway, Martin is convinced that Angelo isn’t a killer.”

Edoardo gave a quick smile. “Your
grandfather may not believe his younger brother killed someone, but he is not
exactly an impartial judge. He is family, after all.”

Sofia nodded. Edoardo had
experienced his own misguided partiality. A few years ago he misjudged a member
of his own family, who brought death and heartache and almost severed the bonds
that held the family together.

“Angelo may be innocent and simply
afraid of someone,” Edoardo continued. “But as long as you do not know for
sure, then whatever you plan to do, be very careful.”