Oh.
Not good.
Everyone froze.
“Enough evidence to leave a glittery lightning bolt as a calling card?” Tennyson asked, voice tense.
“Possibly.”
“Oh my word, Chiara.” Branwell pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What did you do?” Tennyson’s eyes widened.
“Nothing!” Chiara’s hands exploded into motion. “I didn’t do anything other than record an incriminating conversation and turn it over to the police.”
“You didn’t have to turn it over.”
“There werechildreninvolved. Children who might bemurdered. No way was I going to stand by and let kids be killed by not reporting the crime. The inspector over the case suggested that I leave town, lay low for a while. At least until they can get these guys behind bars.”
Silence.
“How worried should we be?” Tennyson’s voice was quiet. “You woke up to a lightning bolt this morning. Do you think they put the lightning bolt there? Or did it come from . . . elsewhere?”
Chiara shrugged. “It’s not hugely likely that they managed to tie the incriminating evidence back to me . . . but . . .”
“But?”
“But I was spotted at the scene by one of the suspects. So there’s a chance that they connected all the dots. The lightning bolt freaked me out. I need to understand how it got there.”
“Precisely.”
A panicky feeling stole over me. The thought of Chiara being off somewhere alone . . . at the mercy of some hit man . . .
Chiara’s gaze bounced between us all. “Anyone have an idea of where I should go to lie low?”
SEVEN
Chiara
Don’t make me regret this more than I already do.” I pulled around a slow moving car, driving south toward San Gimignano.
“I was merely pointing out that there are numerous speed cameras along this route, and you are displaying a shocking disregard for posted speed limits.” Jack’s tone from behind me was absurdly reasonable.
Why did anything said in an upper-crust English accent have to sound so authoritative?
“Why would you care?” I asked. “If I get a ticket, it doesn’t affect you in any way. Even if I get in a car accident, you won’t be harmed. You just need to let this go.”
“I would prefernotto watch you die.”
“Are all ghosts this melodramatic?”
“A concern for your well-being hardly qualifies as melodrama.”
“Tomayto. Tomahto.”
“I haven’t a clue what that is supposed to mean. Why would you pronounce tomahto as tomayto?”
Yep. Totally regretting this decision.
