Read Online temptation in florence 03 - bankers death by Beate Boeker - Free Book Online
Authors: Beate Boeker
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right, toward the Piazza di Santa Croce. The Piazza was big enough to allow her to survey the approach of any family member, intent on overhearing what she was saying.
“Why are you running?” Stefano's voice was like a whip. “Are you in danger?”
“No. I . . . I just need some distance.”
“Where are you?”
“In the Piazza di Santa Croce.”
“I'll be there in one minute. Don't move, love.” He hung up.
With a sigh of relief, Carlina slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked to one of the stone benches that encircled the piazza. Garini would come. He would know how to deal with it. Then she did a double-take. Had he called her “love” or had she misheard him? He'd never done that before. She took a deep breath. “Calm down. Just calm down. All will be well.”
A German tourist with white socks and sandals and an overstuffed backpack walked past. He looked at her with a curious expression.
I'd better stop talking to myself. She dropped onto the stone bench at the far end of the piazza, hid her head in her hands, and tried to suppress the shudders that still shook her body. It seemed to take ages, but finally, the shivering subsided. She lifted her head and looked at the impressive facade of the cathedral of Santa Croce. It was so beautiful, so balanced with its three arches and the tiny turrets on top. Dusk was falling, and the white marble glowed in the artfully placed spotlights. How many people had stood on this Piazza already, fear in their hearts, afraid of the future? How many people had carried their worries inside the church, looking for reassurance, for help? Sometimes, it was easier to believe - at least you felt you weren't on your own.
Carlina swallowed. She'd never felt like this - so torn in two. On the one hand, she wanted to be with Stefano, wanted to believe that he would help her, but on the other, she wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible, afraid of what might happen. Maybe she should run away, just leave him a text message that he'll find everything he needed to know at the house.
She got up. But where should she turn? Family was out of the question, and even her friends would soon be ferreted out. She knew all about Garini's efficiency.
A hand on her arm made her jump. She whipped around and stared at Garini's lean face. Too late to run.
His gaze searched her face, then he frowned.
How angry he looks. Carlina felt her courage sinking and wanted to take a step back, but for some reason, she was rooted to the ground.
“Come here.” His voice was tender, at odds to the expression on his face. He took her into his arms.
Carlina felt a sob rising inside her. She buried her head in his shoulder and inhaled his familiar scent of leather and soap. Stolen time. The words flashed through her mind. As soon as he hears the truth, he'll fling me out of his arms. He'll never look at me again.
His hands caressed her back with long, soothing strokes.
She clung to him as if she was sinking. Stolen time. “Stefano.” Her voice sounded brittle. “I have to tell you so much, and it's not pretty.” She arched her back so she could see his face.
He shook his head. “I suggest that we call the police station and let a colleague take over. Then I won't have any loyalty conflict.”
They'll ridicule him forever. The thought stabbed her. Imagine, your lover is cheating on you, and every colleague knows. They might even believe that Garini did it out of jealousy. She gasped at the thought.
His gaze searched her face. “What?”
She braced herself. Four sentences. I just have to tell him four sentences. It can't be too hard to do that, can it? “We found Valentino stabbed this evening in . . . “
“Commissario!” Out of nowhere, Fabbiola appeared and threw herself between them. “I'm so glad you came immediately!”
“Mama!” Carlina glared at her mother. “Stefano will not take this case. He's . . . “
“Never mind, never mind.” Her mother grabbed
“Why are you running?” Stefano's voice was like a whip. “Are you in danger?”
“No. I . . . I just need some distance.”
“Where are you?”
“In the Piazza di Santa Croce.”
“I'll be there in one minute. Don't move, love.” He hung up.
With a sigh of relief, Carlina slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked to one of the stone benches that encircled the piazza. Garini would come. He would know how to deal with it. Then she did a double-take. Had he called her “love” or had she misheard him? He'd never done that before. She took a deep breath. “Calm down. Just calm down. All will be well.”
A German tourist with white socks and sandals and an overstuffed backpack walked past. He looked at her with a curious expression.
I'd better stop talking to myself. She dropped onto the stone bench at the far end of the piazza, hid her head in her hands, and tried to suppress the shudders that still shook her body. It seemed to take ages, but finally, the shivering subsided. She lifted her head and looked at the impressive facade of the cathedral of Santa Croce. It was so beautiful, so balanced with its three arches and the tiny turrets on top. Dusk was falling, and the white marble glowed in the artfully placed spotlights. How many people had stood on this Piazza already, fear in their hearts, afraid of the future? How many people had carried their worries inside the church, looking for reassurance, for help? Sometimes, it was easier to believe - at least you felt you weren't on your own.
Carlina swallowed. She'd never felt like this - so torn in two. On the one hand, she wanted to be with Stefano, wanted to believe that he would help her, but on the other, she wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible, afraid of what might happen. Maybe she should run away, just leave him a text message that he'll find everything he needed to know at the house.
She got up. But where should she turn? Family was out of the question, and even her friends would soon be ferreted out. She knew all about Garini's efficiency.
A hand on her arm made her jump. She whipped around and stared at Garini's lean face. Too late to run.
His gaze searched her face, then he frowned.
How angry he looks. Carlina felt her courage sinking and wanted to take a step back, but for some reason, she was rooted to the ground.
“Come here.” His voice was tender, at odds to the expression on his face. He took her into his arms.
Carlina felt a sob rising inside her. She buried her head in his shoulder and inhaled his familiar scent of leather and soap. Stolen time. The words flashed through her mind. As soon as he hears the truth, he'll fling me out of his arms. He'll never look at me again.
His hands caressed her back with long, soothing strokes.
She clung to him as if she was sinking. Stolen time. “Stefano.” Her voice sounded brittle. “I have to tell you so much, and it's not pretty.” She arched her back so she could see his face.
He shook his head. “I suggest that we call the police station and let a colleague take over. Then I won't have any loyalty conflict.”
They'll ridicule him forever. The thought stabbed her. Imagine, your lover is cheating on you, and every colleague knows. They might even believe that Garini did it out of jealousy. She gasped at the thought.
His gaze searched her face. “What?”
She braced herself. Four sentences. I just have to tell him four sentences. It can't be too hard to do that, can it? “We found Valentino stabbed this evening in . . . “
“Commissario!” Out of nowhere, Fabbiola appeared and threw herself between them. “I'm so glad you came immediately!”
“Mama!” Carlina glared at her mother. “Stefano will not take this case. He's . . . “
“Never mind, never mind.” Her mother grabbed
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