—
They made their way around the harbor, through the labyrinth of restaurants and sailing services, and past the rows of expensive sailboats. Nikki appraised and admired each one—and compared them all unfavorably toCalypso. She thought of Valerio. She should call him again, tell him to carve out time, ignore the bad weather, and sail with her into the grey-and-white waves.
—
Nikki followed Sonia through the glass doors of a restaurant. They scanned the faces in the dining room, then continued outdoors, where guests sat beneath an awning. Grey-haired couples drank coffee. Women with sculpted eyebrows and sunglasses drank Aperol Spritz. A goateed man nursed a Belgian beer, and his girlfriend sipped prosecco.
At another table sat a woman and a child of seven or eight. The woman had long chestnut hair and an eerie beauty that seemed less a gift of nature than of plastic surgeons—full lips, clear skin, and jutting cheekbones. By comparison, the child was awkwardly plain: short and chubby, with splotchy skin, crooked teeth, and a stubbednose. Her eyebrows were bushy, and her straight mousy hair hung in a blunt, unflattering bob.
Sonia sighed. “I don’t see the captain.”
“Have you slept?” Nikki asked, noting the fatigued voice, tired eyes, and grey tinge to her skin.
“After this interview,” Sonia said, then took out her phone and dialed.
Sonia’s tough-mindedness was one of the reasons Nikki liked her, and why she’d accepted Sonia’s gestures of friendship these past few months. They sometimes had coffee, or lifted together at the gym. And once, Nikki and Valerio had taken Sonia and her daughter sailing. Nikki had never been good at making friends—particularly with other women, who seemed to live by strange unspoken rules. But Sonia’s rulebook was straightforward: honest communication and no bullshit. She also respected Nikki’s privacy and need for solitude.
Nikki was about to offer to buy Sonia a coffee while they waited, when the homely child launched off her chair and came towards them.
“Are you the police?”
She spoke confidently with a refined British accent.
“Yes,” said Sonia. “I’m Detective Sonia Dieng, and this is Investigator Nikki Serafino. Who are you?”
“I’m Audrey Lake,” said the girl with an eager smile. She pointed. “That’s my mum. Captain Henry said to watch for you.”
Audrey led them to the table, and spoke loudly to the woman.
“These are the police, Mum.”
Fiona Lake didn’t respond. Clearly far into drinking, she seemed shaky, hand shifting a little late to steady her sloshing martini. She sipped, gazing across the water, where a cruise ship pulled out to sea. Beyond this, the dark form of Vesuvius was cloaked in a cloud.
“Signora Lake?” Sonia said. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”
When the woman still didn’t answer, Sonia continued, “Perhaps inside?”
Fiona set down her drink and, taking out a cigarette, worked a lighter for several tries until the flame held.
“This is perfectly suitable,” she said, gesturing to the nearby tables. “Interrogate me. Share my business with the world.”
“We don’t wish to disturb you,” said Sonia.
Fiona glared, eyes slightly unfocused, and sucked on the cigarette.
“And yet…here you are.”
She drained her glass and gestured for the waiter to bring another.
“We really must talk to you,” said Sonia.
“Do you have business cards?”
Sonia and Nikki took a moment to locate a card each. Fiona didn’t look before tossing them onto the table.
“I’ll instruct Henry to call you…or Jayston. I simply can’t…not today…I just can’t.”
Nikki glanced between the disinterested face of the mother and the cheerful, expectant face of the child—a contrast that made her suddenly uneasy and acutely aware of the missing nanny.
