her best not to tremble.
“Thank you for the call, Troy. I’m anxious to keep anything that belonged to my husband.”
“Of course. I’m glad you came when you did, otherwise we’d have sold it. I really am sorry about your husband.”
“So am I,” she muttered in a dull voice.
She’d known nothing about the purchase of this laptop. Jim’s company had supplied him with the one he’d always used to do business.
The only reason for this computer to exist meant he’d had something to hide.
She would have to take it to Europe with her. She didn’t have time to go back home. After she returned to the States, she’d look inside. If she discovered painful secrets, hopefully by then she’d be better able to handle them.
After going out to the cab, she packed the laptop in her suitcase then told the driver to step on it.
As she sat back in the seat, she shuddered to realize that her husband had been working out in a gym for eight months, and she’d had no knowledge of his activities. He must have stopped by either coming or going to Switzerland on business.
It was one thing to recognize that the two of them had drifted apart, but quite another to realize he’d been living a separate and secret life. How humiliating to be confronted by the truth in front of Troy, a total stranger to her.
Oh, Jim. What happened to the man I married? Did I ever really know you?
Ally was beginning to wonder…
With the aid of the staff, Gino helped his grieving Sofia and her father into the limo outside the local parish church. They’d just buried Donata in the adjacent cemetery. It had all been carried out in secret while word of her death had finally been announced by the media.
One day when the furor had died down, he would have her remains removed and buried on the grounds of the Montefalco estate in the family plot.
“I’ll join you at the farm in a few minutes, sweetheart.”
Sofia’s face was ravaged by fresh tears. “Don’t take too long.”
“I promise. I just want to say goodbye to a few people and thank the priest.”
She nodded before the farmhouse caretaker Paolo drove the car away.
Vastly relieved this part was over, he turned swiftly to Carlo whom he’d asked to wait until they could talk in private.
“The onslaught has started in earnest, Carlo.”
“What’s going on?”
“One of the security guards at the palazzo just left a message that a woman claiming to be Mrs. James Parker tried to get in to see Marcello a few minutes ago. It’s another ploy on the part of the paparazzi to ruin my family.”
The other man pursed his lips. “I must say I’m surprised they’d be audacious enough to impersonate the wife of the deceased.”
Gino grimaced. “Nothing surprises me anymore. She came in a taxi. As a precaution, the guard wrote down the license plate number.”
Carlo’s brows lifted. “Want me to track her down and have her vetted?”
Gino was way ahead of him.
“If you could locate her, I’d like to do the interrogating for a change.”
“What’s your plan?”
“How long could she be held at the jail?”
“Only twelve hours. If you can’t make the charges stick, then we’d have to release her.”
Gino’s eyes glittered. “Don’t worry about that. She’s going to wish she’d never ventured into my territory.”
Carlo pulled out his pocket notepad. “Give me the plate number. I’ll alert the desk sergeant at the jail to cooperate with you.”
“As usual, I’m indebted to you.”
“Our families have been close for years. I’m not about to see you and Sofia destroyed.”
Those words meant more to Gino than his friend would ever know.
“Grazie, Carlo.”
There was a jarring knock on the bedroom door.
“Signora Parker?”
Ally had only been in bed an hour and groaned in disbelief. Her long connecting flights from Oregon to Switzerland, then Rome, had been bad enough. But it was the horrendous day she’d spent on a hot, overcrowded train to reach the hilltop town of Montefalco that had done her in.
To compound her troubles, every hotel in the town had been booked months in advance for some festival. If her taxi driver hadn’t taken pity on her and brought her to his sister’s house to sleep, she would have been forced to return to Rome for the night. Perish the thought!
The rapping grew louder.
“Signora!”
Ally couldn’t work out what was happening.
“Just a moment!”
She sat up, unconsciously running a hand through her short, blond curls. They made her look younger than her twenty-eight years.
Grabbing her robe lying across the end of the bed, she slipped it on, then hurried over to the door and opened it.
The elderly woman looked tired. Ally thought she sounded out of breath.
“Quickly! You must get dressed! A car from the Palazzo Di Montefalco has come for you.”
Ally’s green eyes widened. “But that’s impossible!”
Earlier in the day she’d been turned away from the palace gates by armed guards. No one knew where she’d gone after she’d gotten back in the taxi.
“You have to be a very important person for the Duc Di Montefalco himself to send for you. Hurry! You must not keep the driver waiting,”
“I’ll be out as soon as I can. Thank you.”
Unless one of the guards had followed the taxi here, Ally was mystified as to how he’d known where to find her.
But that didn’t matter now. In a few minutes she was finally going to meet with the man she’d flown thousands of miles to see. After her futile attempts to reach him by phone from Rome before boarding the train, and then the fiasco that took place earlier in front of the palace, she’d almost given up hope.
She shut the door and reached for her suitcase. In a few minutes she’d donned fresh jeans and a green print blouse. At one-thirty in the morning she didn’t feel like dressing in the suit she’d brought.
Once she’d put
