She walked him to the door. He’d stepped across the threshold when an idea occurred to her.
“What about Sandro?” she suggested. “From the other night—at the bar? He and my brother Adriano were friends in the carabinieri. Maybe he can find your guy.”
Valerio exhaled, and smiled, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Sure. That’s a good idea. I’ll text you the picture.”
—
Nikki didn’t have a number for Sandro, so she rang her father to see if he did. He answered on the third ring.
“Are you at home?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Great! I’m on my way.”
“Wait!” she said, but he’d already hung up.
—
The coffee in the Moka was hot. Nikki poured herself a cup and, righting the toppled chair, sat and opened her phone.
As usual, there were dozens of messages from Audrey Lake, who seemed undeterred by Nikki’s nonresponse.
There was a video message from Izzy, who thanked her for her visit and said that they loved her.
On Instagram, there were several messages from Sally Tate:
- Teddy is on the war path
- He’s seriously connected
- You’d better watch out
- He says he’ll report you to the police
Her most recent message from only a few minutes ago read:Seriously. Who are you?
Nikki messaged:Can you please send me the link to Claire’s blog?
Sally responded immediately:If I do, will you tell me who you are?
Nikki wrote:I’m an investigator. Trying to find out what happened to Claire. You were her closest friend. I need your help.
Sally wrote:Holy shit. I knew it! Is Teddy a suspect?
Nikki wrote:I can’t talk about that. Would you please share the link?
A few seconds passed. Then, to Nikki’s relief, Sally sent it.
—
Claire Sexton’s blog,Thornfield Manor Secrets, looked like the cover of a novel—white roses on a pale coral background. The page opened on the most recent post, dated the day before Claire vanished off the yacht in Capri.
His eyes, deep and piercing, penetrate my soul. How I long to cast aside this pretense. Why must we play these games? I swear he can read my mind with just a glance. Please, Rochester. I need to talk to you alone.
It went on like this for pages.
