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“What?”

“Gregory Santini was in touch.”

Instantly, I was tense. “And?”

“His message was brief. ‘The package has been recovered and disposed of.’”

I sat back. “They found Marianne.”

He nodded.

“And they killed her.”

“Tim did, from the little I got from Gregory. He didn’t want to talk over the phone, and I didn’t want to meet him.”

I nodded. “Good plan.” I turned my chair, staring out the window. I wasn’t upset about Marianne’s death. In fact, the dark side of me hoped she suffered. I did have concerns about telling Effie, though. I had to admit, I was worried about my wife.

“Why?” Aldo asked.

I turned back, realizing I had spoken out loud.

“Because she’s her sister? Even after what she did?” he asked.

“That, and she is still, ah, emotional over the wedding and everything.”

“Everything?”

I found myself telling Aldo the whole conversation Effie and I’d had. He furrowed his brow. “You told her you had affection for her?” He looked displeased. “Like one would a pet.”

“No, she knows it is different.”

“Does she?”

“Of course,” I snapped, regretting my decision to confide in him. “I care for her. She is my wife, and I will make her a priority. I’m changing my life, shortening my hours, staying at the house. I even agreed to have a baby with her if that was what she wanted. What more does everyone want?”

Aldo laughed, the sound dry. “Something you are not willing to give, obviously.”

“Something I can’t give. I do not have it to give.”

Aldo stood. “If you say so. I’m going to work on the staff budget. We need to work out the schedule for the next while, so when you’re ready, buzz me.”

He left, and I had the distinct impression he was angry with me.

I didn’t understand why everyone seemed so upset by my honesty. The only one who seemed to accept it was Effie.

I shook my head and dismissed Aldo’s ire. I had to figure out how to tell my wife her sister was dead.

I hoped she wouldn’t get overly emotional. As far as I was concerned, the world was better off without Marianne.

But as pointed out to me by the man who had arranged to kill her, women were softer. And I knew Effie’s capacity for forgiveness.

I had no idea what to expect.

I waited until after dinner. I made a special effort to get home early. I was surprised to realize how often Effie drifted into my thoughts. I wondered what she was doing. If she was feeling all right. If the house felt strange to her. I worried that she would feel overwhelmed. Then I wondered when I had started worrying so much over someone other than Nonna. And I couldn’t figure out the niggling feeling of almost missing Effie. I never missed anyone.

I’d sent Effie flowers that she’d placed on the center hall console. I admired them when I walked in, and I was kissed warmly for my efforts. I enjoyed dinner on the patio with Nonna and Effie. Nonna had made Effie her favorite risotto, and I poured glasses of the white wine she had liked so much at lunch last time.

After dinner, Nonna excused herself and went to bed. I worked a bit in my office then went to our room, not surprised to find Effie reading on the love seat. She enjoyed the quiet pastime.