Read Online temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death by Beate Boeker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Beate Boeker
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hope in her voice, “Maybe we can make this lawyer fall in love with Annalisa. Then he'll be one of the family, and even Benedetta will believe that he's doing his best.”
Garini shuddered. “You don't know Domenico Rulo. Believe me when I say that you don't want him in the family.”
She took his hand and held it up to her cheek. “Are you sure you're not prejudiced because he works on the other side?”
He enjoyed the feeling of her soft cheek on his skin, but managed to give a snort in response to her words. “His face looks as if he ran into a wall.”
Her eyes widened. “All smashed in?”
“Kind of. It's hard to describe. His nose is pointed and sharp, but it still manages to look as if it wants to retrace its way inside the head. His lips are so thin, they're almost invisible, and the chin is receding a lot, so when you look at him from the side, he's a bit like an egg.”
Carlina stared. “Like an egg?”
“Yep. That's our nickname for him. The egg. The bad egg. The rest of him is tall and bony.”
“He may not be beautiful, but he may have a beautiful soul.”
Stefano sighed. “Bad eggs don't have beautiful souls. This one is out to make money. Trust me.”
Carlina swallowed. “Then why did you call him in?”
“Because he'll reduce that fat good-for-nothing Commissario Pucci to dust. However, he can only get here late tonight, so we'll have to wait.”
“Then let's make the best of it and go down to the beach,” Carlina said.
They spent the day like all the other careless holiday guests, but underneath a sense of foreboding went with them. It sneaked with them into the waves while they were splashing around, it froze a part of them when they had a cool and tangy gelato, and it stayed with them like a stone inside their stomachs while they had lunch and took a pisolino , a nap. The afternoon dragged on while nothing happened at all. Finally, the Mantoni family had their celebratory ferragosto dinner as planned, but their gaiety was forced. When Ernesto excused himself early, saying he wasn't hungry, his mother Benedetta was on the verge of tears, but she let him return to the hotel without insisting on accompanying him.
As one person, the Mantoni family decided to miss the fireworks this year. None of them wanted to see the lights exploding when every bang would make them jump, reminding them of the fatal shot last night.
They returned to the hotel after dinner, dragging their feet. Carlina waited until the family was out of earshot and then asked the receptionist if a lawyer by the name of Domenico Rulo had arrived. “Oh, yes,” the receptionist nodded. “He came a few minutes ago and asked to speak to Ernesto Santorini. I think they went to his room.”
Garini lifted his eyebrows, took Carlina by the arm and led her out of the lobby again, down the path that led around the hotel toward the pool.
The heat of the day still came off the stone walls of the hotel, and in spite of the dark, they could see that the gravel gave up little clouds of dust with every crunching step they took. Garini could feel a trickle of sweat running down between his shoulder blades.
Carlina pulled at his sleeve. “If we step onto the grass, they won't hear us.”
He smiled at her. So she already knew what he was trying to do.
Without another word, they moved away from the path and inched closer to Ernesto's room. Next to the door that led to Ernesto's room, a bougainvillea as large as a tree reached up to the next story. It foamed with its red flowers. Next to it, a rosemary bush went up to Carlina's hips. Still warm from the hot day, it gave out a powerful scent.
Carlina and Garini went as close as they dared, screened by the shrubbery, and leaned against the faded orange wall of the hotel.
With care, Garini stretched and looked through a gap in the flowers.
The glass door stood wide open, but he couldn't see anything. However, they could hear voices.
“I've already told you everything. That's
Garini shuddered. “You don't know Domenico Rulo. Believe me when I say that you don't want him in the family.”
She took his hand and held it up to her cheek. “Are you sure you're not prejudiced because he works on the other side?”
He enjoyed the feeling of her soft cheek on his skin, but managed to give a snort in response to her words. “His face looks as if he ran into a wall.”
Her eyes widened. “All smashed in?”
“Kind of. It's hard to describe. His nose is pointed and sharp, but it still manages to look as if it wants to retrace its way inside the head. His lips are so thin, they're almost invisible, and the chin is receding a lot, so when you look at him from the side, he's a bit like an egg.”
Carlina stared. “Like an egg?”
“Yep. That's our nickname for him. The egg. The bad egg. The rest of him is tall and bony.”
“He may not be beautiful, but he may have a beautiful soul.”
Stefano sighed. “Bad eggs don't have beautiful souls. This one is out to make money. Trust me.”
Carlina swallowed. “Then why did you call him in?”
“Because he'll reduce that fat good-for-nothing Commissario Pucci to dust. However, he can only get here late tonight, so we'll have to wait.”
“Then let's make the best of it and go down to the beach,” Carlina said.
They spent the day like all the other careless holiday guests, but underneath a sense of foreboding went with them. It sneaked with them into the waves while they were splashing around, it froze a part of them when they had a cool and tangy gelato, and it stayed with them like a stone inside their stomachs while they had lunch and took a pisolino , a nap. The afternoon dragged on while nothing happened at all. Finally, the Mantoni family had their celebratory ferragosto dinner as planned, but their gaiety was forced. When Ernesto excused himself early, saying he wasn't hungry, his mother Benedetta was on the verge of tears, but she let him return to the hotel without insisting on accompanying him.
As one person, the Mantoni family decided to miss the fireworks this year. None of them wanted to see the lights exploding when every bang would make them jump, reminding them of the fatal shot last night.
They returned to the hotel after dinner, dragging their feet. Carlina waited until the family was out of earshot and then asked the receptionist if a lawyer by the name of Domenico Rulo had arrived. “Oh, yes,” the receptionist nodded. “He came a few minutes ago and asked to speak to Ernesto Santorini. I think they went to his room.”
Garini lifted his eyebrows, took Carlina by the arm and led her out of the lobby again, down the path that led around the hotel toward the pool.
The heat of the day still came off the stone walls of the hotel, and in spite of the dark, they could see that the gravel gave up little clouds of dust with every crunching step they took. Garini could feel a trickle of sweat running down between his shoulder blades.
Carlina pulled at his sleeve. “If we step onto the grass, they won't hear us.”
He smiled at her. So she already knew what he was trying to do.
Without another word, they moved away from the path and inched closer to Ernesto's room. Next to the door that led to Ernesto's room, a bougainvillea as large as a tree reached up to the next story. It foamed with its red flowers. Next to it, a rosemary bush went up to Carlina's hips. Still warm from the hot day, it gave out a powerful scent.
Carlina and Garini went as close as they dared, screened by the shrubbery, and leaned against the faded orange wall of the hotel.
With care, Garini stretched and looked through a gap in the flowers.
The glass door stood wide open, but he couldn't see anything. However, they could hear voices.
“I've already told you everything. That's
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