Allie
The terrace was lovely, but a bit chilly. The view faced west toward the sea. The water was choppy and very few boats braved the rough water. But early almond blooms scented the air, and there were fresh roses in the vases gracing the side tables.
Mario placed me nearest the house, with a slightly obstructed view of the water. I didn’t mind. I was watching him. He was moving much easier today. No flinching, no protective covering of the wound site, except when he sat. That was good.
“No fever?”
He smiled and continued spreading a soft cheese on the bread in his hand. “None. No pain, except when I move certain ways, which you’d correct me for, so I don’t. And the site is…guarded well by your little plastic fortress.”
I shook my head. He was such a tough nut. But I was cracking him. His smile was easy. The moments when he’d glance up and his breath caught were my favorite. And this home? I could live here. It was beautiful. Rustic, rural enough to have gardens and grapevines, but strategically set into a steeply terraced hillside that must have been dug out centuries ago.
“How old is that city?” I pointed at the collection of houses below us.
He craned his head to look. “I would guess four centuries. It came with the fish.”
“Do you fish?”
He nodded. A small smile of memory lifted one side higher than the other. “We have a boat… I have a boat.”
Ringo. Every once in a while, Mario would slip up and refer to his friend as a part of him. He must be grieving the loss of friendship and worrying. Much like I was worrying about Ellie.
Perhaps thinking of her made me check my phone. Or maybe it was that odd quirk of twins. No matter the distance, sometimes we thought on the same wavelength. My phone lit up with a strange number. I hesitated to answer it at the breakfast table.
Mario however, didn’t mind. He circled his fingers in the air to let me know I should proceed.
“Allie?” My sister’s voice sounded clearer than I would have expected.
“Ellie, where are you?”
“I’m going to ask you the same damn thing. I went to Venice then Milan, and?—”
“What happened to your phone?”
“Oh, that. It’s long-ass story. I guess you could say I dropped it in the canal, but more like it got knocked out of my hand and… well, that’s not all of it, but enough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Your notes helped a little. Ringo helped more. He’s the one who got me this phone.”
“Ringo?” I asked. My eyes shot to Mario.
Suspiciously, he was not shocked by the news. How many men were named Ringo? My guess would be not many. And certainly not enough to overcome the massive odds against my twin sister hooking up with my husband’s… attempted murderer? Best friend?
Oh hell. That wasn’t coincidental at all. “You knew?”
Mario’s eyebrow lifted slightly. Behind him, Loppa studied the landscape, or at least pretended to in order to avoid my sharp glare.
“I knew what?” Ellie asked.
“Where are you now?” And more importantly, was she with him?
“Oh, I’m on this little hiking trail near some coastal town. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s pretty. We boated over from Portofino this morning.”
“We?”
“Ringo and I. Babe, what are you doing?”
The latter half of her conversation must have been directed at Ringo. I quickly covered the end of my phone with my hand to muffle my voice. “She’s with him, Ringo.”
