Brando shook his head, a slight smirk on his face. He enjoyed being around Romeo, I could tell. There was nothing boyish about his younger brother, but when he was around, the mood seemed to lighten. Brando reclaimed his seat next to me, and regardless of his coldness, I took his hand.
“Perhapsourdark Romeo will find his fair Juliet in Verona!” Aunt Lola said, a romantic note to her voice. “Tale città romantica!”Such a romantic city!
“Perhaps I am destined to die alone, sweet aunt, since I have yet to find a woman worth dying for!” he said dramatically, attempting to sit on her lap. She slapped at his bottom and he let out a noisethat made her laugh.
“Ah, you have found a few,” Donato put in. “You ran right before the poison was served.”
The plane erupted into laughter, jeering remarks, andwhoops!
“What about Collette, nephew?” Uncle Tito adjusted his spectacles before putting down his crossword puzzle. “Is she not the one worth dying for?”
“She is not a damsel in distress, uncle. Sheisthe killer!”
The plane’s passengers laughed even harder, agreeing. Despite the humor, the mention of Collette made a frisson of unease skitter up my back. There was something she was not telling me, and each time I asked her why she came to see me, her answer never deviated: “I needed to disappear.” Then she’d wave a dismissive hand. “You know how I can be.”
Pfff, I did, but for some reason her visit unsettled me. When I attempted to pry even further, she would claim to have a headache, or Romeo would come in and save the day.
The plane shook with the fierce mouth of the wind before settling. I could feel the heat pressing in on the walls, and I was glad that I’d chosen to wear a thin dress and my white Italian-made sneakers.
Brando leaned forward, catching Violet’s attention. “You tell her?” He nodded toward me.
I looked between the two of them.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Tell me what?”
“When you called and asked for some things to be sent over to thecastellofor you and Brando,” Violet said, setting down her magazine, “I found a few items in your room and closet had been messed up.”
“Messed up?”
“Well.” She opened and closed her hands. “You’re meticulous about your things. You have a spot for everything. So does Brando. Or he knows where everything goes.” She grinned at him. “For the most part I know the way of it. A few of your drawers in the room were opened, as well as in the closet, not closed all the way. The cedar chest where you keep all of your favorite things was open and left that way. Whoever had been looking didn’t have enough time to close the top.”
“I close everything,” I said, biting my lip. Brando did too. He knew how particular I was about our things.
Brando’s face was close to unreadable, but I could tell he was irate. Someone in our house had been looking through our things. The plane became quiet, as the pilot announced that we were about to land infiera Verona.
I squeezed Brando’s hand as we made our descent. After we stepped off the plane, welcomed by the blazing sun of Romeo and Juliet’s home, he pulled me to the side while we waited for our ride.
“What is it?” I asked, almost hopping from foot to foot. The three espressos I’d had on the plane were not helping my cause. I drank them to give me a perk, but I was much too hyped, and it fed the curiosity at a maddening rate. Even my words came out at supersonic speed. “Who do you think it is?”
He gave me a look from underneath his Ray-Bans. “Do you have to pee? You move like that when you have to go.”
I realized, with a sudden jolt not related to caffeine, that he was right. Eunice used to call it my “pee pee dance.” What tickled me even further was that in Italian it would have beenfare pipì. “Move like what?” I looked up at him, putting up a hand to shield my eyes from the sharp glare, though my own set of Ray-Bans sat on my nose. “Show me.”
He copied what I was doing, and I laughed so hard that I fell into him, almost whooping. The pressure had thickened, and the cracks were starting to show. “I know you have to go,” he said again, though he grinned a bit.
“Yes.” I held on tight to his waist. “I can wait to we get to Uncle Tito’s though.” I was used to ignoring my bladder and its demands.
“We’re not going to Tito and Lola’s.”
“Oh?” I took a step back. I still held on, but I was able to look up at him again. “Why not?”
He caressed my back for a beat, staring down at me. “We leave the day after your birthday forthosetrips. It’s not far off. I thought…” He shrugged. “Romeo and Juliet is one of your favorites. We could spend a couple of days here.”
“And meet thecalzolaio?” I wouldn’t be deterred. I had to meet the man, and if all went well, have him create a few pair ofscarpe mortalifor me. That’s what Maja had called them in her letter—she said that’s what Matteo had called them.Deadly shoes.
He nodded, though the pulse in his jaw ticked and his entire body went rigid.
