Read Online The Disappearance of Grace by Vincent Zandri - Free Book Online

a look at him.”
    â€œYou’re joking, Nick.”
    I turn back, try and focus on her.
    â€œYou think?”
    We sit silent.
    Once more I am helpless and impotent.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she says after a time. “I’m not trying to insult you. This isn’t like yesterday with the ring. But this man is at the same café we’re at two days in a row? This is really starting to creep me out, babe.”
    My pulse begins to pump inside my head. Not rapid, but just enough for me to notice. Two steady drumbeats against my temples. I find myself wanting to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. I take a sip of beer thinking it will help.
    â€œHe’s coming towards us, Nick. I don’t like it.”
    Heartbeat picks up. I feel it pounding inside my head and my chest.
    â€œAre you sure he’s coming towards us, Grace?” I’m trying not to raise my voice, but it’s next to impossible.
    â€œHe’s looking right at me. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his overcoat. And he’s coming.”
    I feel and hear Grace pulling away from the table. She’s standing. That’s when the smell of incense sweeps over me. A rich, organic, incense-like smell.
    There comes the sound of Grace standing. Abruptly standing. I hear her metal chair push out. I hear the sound of her boot heels on the cobbles. I hear the chair legs scraping against the stone slate. I hear the sound of her wine glass spilling.
    â€œGrace, for God’s sakes, be careful.”
    But she doesn’t respond to me. Or is it possible her voice is drowned out by what sounds like a tour group passing by the table? A tour group of Japanese speaking people. But once they pass, there is nothing. No sound at all other than the boats on the basin and the constant murmur of the thousands of tourists that fill this ancient square.
    â€œGrace,” I say. “Grace. Stop it. This isn’t funny. Grace.”
    But there’s still no response.
    The smell of incense is gone now.
    I make out the gulls flying over the tables, the birds shooting in from the basin to pick up scraps of food and then, like thieves in the night, shooting back out over the water. I can hear and feel the sound-wave driven music that reverberates against the stone cathedral.
    â€œGrace,” I repeat, voice louder now. “Grace. Grace…Grace!”
    I’m getting no response.
    It’s like she’s gone. Vanished. But how can she be gone? She was just sitting here with me. She was sitting directly across from me, eating a sandwich and drinking a glass of wine. She was talking with me.
    The waiter approaches.
    â€œThe signora is not liking her food?” he questions.
    I reach out across the table. In the place where she was sitting. She is definitely not there.
    â€œIs there a toilet close by?” I pose. “Did you see my fiancée leave the table and go to the toilet?”
    The waiter pauses for a moment.
    â€œI am sorry. But I did not. I was inside the café.”
    â€œThen maybe somebody else saw her. Maybe you can ask them.”
    â€œSignor, there are many tables in this café and they are all filled with people. And there are many people who walk amongst the tables who can block their view. I am looking at them. No one seems to be concerned about anything. Sometimes there are so many people here, it is easy to get lost. Perhaps she just went to the toilet like you just suggested, and she got lost amongst the people. I will come back in moment and make sure all is well.”
    I listen to the waiter leaving, his footsteps fading against the slate.
    Grace didn’t say anything about going to the toilet or anywhere else. Grace was frightened. She was frightened of a man who was staring at her. A man with sunglasses on and a cropped beard and a long brown overcoat. He was the man from yesterday. The man with black eyes. He was approaching us, this man. He came to our table and he smelled