Tricky Death Page 21

  When the Renault started to drive with a rattle that told her the exhaust tube wasn't going to last much longer, she stared out of the window. Blinded by the rain and her sun-glasses, she didn't see much. A few trees, thin, straggling. Some low houses, with the typical roofs made of four equal triangular pieces, slanted to meet at the tip. Shutters with peeling paint, closed to keep out the sun that was nowhere to be seen and hard to imagine. Where was the Florence her mother had loved?

  Anne shook herself. She had to think positive. She had to take back her life, make it into something good, something clean. She sighed. Would it ever become possible to forget she'd been imprisoned on a murder charge? Would she be able to forget the accusing stare of Alec's friends, and let's face it, her own, who believed she had tampered with his car? Would life ever turn back into something sane, something to have confidence in?

  She'd been innocent. It hadn't helped.

  The houses got higher, and the streets narrowed until Anne wondered if she could open the door of the taxi without hitting it against a wall. It got darker by the minute. The rain pelted onto the roof with angry blows, deafening her. She felt as if she was sitting inside a clammy tin box. Anne hunched up her shoulders and curled her cold toes.

  When the taxi stopped, and her amiable driver indicated with a move of the head that she had reached her destiny, she fumbled out some unfamiliar Euro notes and pressed them into his hands. His fingers were red, like sausages. The sausages disappeared in a black zip-bag and reappeared with some change.

  "Grazie." Anne's voice trembled.

  With a sigh, the taxi driver heaved himself out and went to the back of the car.

  Anne clutched her handbag hard. Now. Her new life was about to begin.

  Get out, she told herself. Don't be a coward.

  But her legs were frozen stiff. She was unable to move.

  Oh, it would be so nice if she could find a mouse hole somewhere. Just a little mouse hole, well hidden; that would do.

  In the historic city center, Peter Grant pulled up the collar of his raincoat and sped past the Dome without a single glance at its marble beauty. He swerved by a Vespa, jumped across a puddle and finally stormed into the Da Marco bar on via de' Tosinghi. After the call from Garibaldi, he had felt the need to leave his office immediately, to get some fresh air and a change of walls, but for once, the familiar smell of coffee and fresh bread failed to charm him. With an effort, he smiled. "Buongiorno, Marco."

  Marco waved his blue checkered dishcloth, finished polishing the glass in his hands and put it down with practiced care. It clinked on the glass top, only audible because the bar was still empty.

  "Peetarrr." He smiled across his gleaming glass counter that allowed a glimpse of crisp panini bread and sweet dolci. "Come vai?"

  Peter's reply came automatic. "Tutto a posto. All is well." Which was a lie. Nothing was well, nothing at all, but he couldn't very well tell Marco so, who had once declared him to be the only cheerful English guy he had ever met.

  Peter shifted on his wooden bar stool and leaned his back against the wall painted in faded orange. The smell of Marco's panini made his mouth water. He ordered an espresso and a panino with prosciutto. "Henry not here yet?"

  Marco shook his head without looking up from the hissing espresso machine. "Enrique will come soon." He slipped the espresso in front of him.

  Peter immediately tossed it back. When he looked up, he spotted Henry through the glass front of the bar. His cream-colored raincoat moved like a swift cloud through the rain. With him, the smell of exhaust came into the bar.

  Marco shivered. "Che tempo brutto!"

  Yes, the weather is awful. Peter sighed. But it'll go away, unlike the news I got this morning.

  Henry smiled at them both, took off his raincoat, shook out its folds one by one, then hung it on the curlicued brass hook Marco had fixed on the wall just for him. He bent across the glass display and gave Marco his order, then came over to Peter. Just as he seated himself, Marco brought Peter's sandwich and served Henry his usual, a salad with bacon strips.

  Henry pushed the plate away until it stood at a neat angle in front of him, patted down his blond hair that didn't need any patting, slanted a glance at Peter and said, "Everything all right?"

  Peter shook his head. "No."

  Henry speared a piece of tomato and lifted his fork. "Is it Maria?"

  Peter stared at him. "Maria? Who's Ma . . .?" He stopped and choked. "Oh. Maria. Why on earth do you think it's Maria?"

  Henry put the tomato into his mouth and chewed. "The last time you looked like that, Maria was the reason."

  Peter laughed without mirth. "It's been ages . . . I believe I've last heard from Maria a year ago." He took a bite off his panino and smiled a bit. "And I sure don't complain." The smoky taste of the prosciutto filled his mouth but failed to give him a feeling of satisfaction.

  Henry nodded and cut the salad into rectangular pieces. "So it's Garibaldi?"

  Peter clenched his teeth. "Lo stronzo." He hissed out the word.

  Henry threw a look at Marco who had moved to the other end of the counter to greet a new customer. "Be careful."

  "Oh, you can trust Marco." Peter bit off another piece of his panino as if he wanted to tear it apart.

  Henry nodded. "Yeah. But still, I wouldn't run around and call my employer an asshole. Particularly not if it's someone like Garibaldi."

  "But he is one." Peter narrowed his eyes.

  "I know. What did he do this time to put you in such a fury?"

  Peter took a deep breath. "You remember Angela? My secretary who worked half time?"

  "I thought she'd left?"

  "Yeah." Peter finished his panino and wiped his fingers on the white paper napkin. "She left a month ago, and I've been badgering Garibaldi ever since to allow me to employ a full-time secretary."

  Henry winced. "Oh, no. Don't tell me you've been going without a secretary for a full month?"

  Peter grinned. "It's pandemonium."

  "I can imagine. Why don't you find a half-time secretary until Garibaldi agrees?"

  "Because as soon as I have one, he'll think it's fine and will stop doing what little he might have done. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to her, would it?"

  Henry took a sip of his coffee and grinned. "And now he said since you seem to manage nicely, you can do without one altogether?"

  "No. Worse."

  "Worse? What can be worse?"

  "He's sending me his niece."

  The hiss of the espresso machine almost drowned his last words.

  Henry stared. "Did you say his niece?"

  "Yeah."

  "Jesus." Henry arranged his knife and fork in perfect parallels on his empty plate and pushed it away.

  Peter looked up. "That all you say?"

  Henry blinked. "You'll have to be darn careful. First of all, you have to stop calling him Stronzo all the time."

  Peter shrugged. "If that was all, I'd be fine."

  Henry waved at Marco. "Un Grappa, per favore, Marco." Then he turned back to Peter. "What do you mean, that's not all?"

  "He doesn't have a niece."

  "What's that?"

  Marco arrived and placed the tiny glass with Grappa in front of Henry who pushed it to Peter.

  Peter eyed it for an instant, then tossed it off. "Thanks."

  Henry frowned. "Now let's start again, please; you've lost me completely. You say Garibaldi foists a niece upon you, a niece he doesn't have?"

  Peter shrugged. "Lo stro... Garibaldi called this morning, said he had wonderful news; he has found a secretary for me. She'll work full time. What's more, she's already on her way and will arrive tonight." He drew his hand through his hair. "And while I'm still collecting my thoughts to ask if she has ever worked in a hotel, if she has any references, not to mention that I would like to have a say in the matter as well, he says she's his niece!" He spat out the word. "When I know perfectly well he has neither brothers nor sisters, so he can't have a niec
e, not in a million years!"

  "So who do you think she is?" Henry opened his eyes wide.

  "She's one of his floozies, of course. Tall, blond, and so stupid you start to eat your desk in desperation if you have to talk to them for five minutes on end. They're all like that." He shrugged. "I guess he got bored with her, for once finds it difficult to shake her off, so he offers her a job in Florence." He changed his voice to a high-pitched sing-song, "Wonderful city, my dear, you'll work in a fabulous four star hotel, oh, so exclusive, a gorgeous historical palazzo," Peter drew his hand through his hair again and returned to his normal voice. "And I don't even know if she speaks Italian, for God's sake!" He beat the top of the bar with his fist.

  Henry shook his head. "He wouldn't send you a secretary who doesn't speak Italian, Peter. Even Garibaldi can't do that."

  Peter lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, wouldn't he?" He grabbed a toothpick from a white porcelain holder next to his elbow and started to turn it around in his fingers. "Those bimbos are barely able to speak their mother language, let alone any other!"

  "Maybe she's Italian," Henry said.

  Peter shook his head. "No way." He twiddled the tooth pick in his fingers. "Not with a name like that." He stared at the glossy table top in front of him.

  "Come on, don't keep me in suspense." Henry nudged his arm. "What's her name?"

  Peter looked at his friend and drew a grimace. "Elizabeth Tiffany Mary Anne Smith." He drew out each word. "Doesn't sound Italian to me." The tooth pick snapped in two between his fingers. "And she's never worked in a hotel in all her life."

  End of Excerpt

  A New Life by Beate Boeker

  also available as paperback

  About the Author

  Beate Boeker is a USA Today bestselling author with a passion for books that brim over with mischief & humor. She writes cozy mysteries and sweet sophisticated romantic fiction, many of them set in beautiful Italy.

  Beate's first novel was published in 2008 by Avalon Books. In the meantime, her work was shortlisted for the Golden Quill Contest, the National Readers' Choice Award, the "Best Indie Books" contest, and the RONE Award.

  She's also a marketing consultant with a degree in International Business Administration. Widely traveled, she speaks German (her mother language), English, French and Italian and lives in Germany together with her husband and daughter. If people came with instructions, hers would say, “Make sure she'll always get enough chocolate and sleep, and she'll be a sunny companion.”

  While “Boeker” means “books” in a German dialect, her first name Beate can be translated as ”Happy” . . . and with a name that reads “Happy Books,” what else could she do but write novels with a happy ending?

  Learn more about Beate at happybooks.de. Here, you can also contact her directly and sign up for her newsletter. Alternatively, you can also get in touch with her on Facebook (Beate Boeker Author) and Twitter (@BeateBoeker).

  She loves to hear from her readers, and if you liked this book, please consider leaving a review.

  Contact Beate

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  Cozy Mysteries by Beate Boeker

  Delayed Death – Temptation in Florence #1

  Have you met the Mantonis? This eccentric Italian family has a fatal tendency to fall over dead bodies, and their unique reactions to murder will keep you giggling all through the night.

  Charmer's Death – Temptation in Florence #2

  A charming but older millionaire desires the most beautiful Mantoni, Annalisa, as his lover for the Christmas season and ends up being strangled by a pair of pantyhose.

  Banker's Death – Temptation in Florence #3

  Carlina’s attractive cousin Valentino is the most unpopular member of the wide-spread Mantoni family. When he is murdered, only commissario Garini is sorry because he has to investigate the Man­toni family once again.

  Expected Death – Temptation in Florence #4

  The family patriarch, Uncle Teo, has fallen in love, and the whole family hates her with good reason. Nobody is surprised when she's killed, but this time, the Mantonis are in for it, and one of them ends up in prison.

  Seaside Death – Temptation in Florence #5

  The Mantoni family is going on vacation, but the holidays at the shores of the Ligurian Sea are anything but relaxing. When the hotel manager is shot, Carlina's young cousin, Ernesto, has to explain more than he wants to reveal.

  Classic Death – Temptation in Florence #6

  Commissario Garini has to investigate the death of an eccentric fountain pen collector while his engagement to Carlina turns out to be a lot more stressful than planned. In the end, only a race against time can prevent another death.

  Elegant Death – Temptation in Florence #7

  Carlina and Stefano's marriage party comes to an abrupt end when her brother's glamorous girlfriend is shot. To clear Enzo of suspicion, Carlina and Stefano will dive deep into the corporate tangles of Milan's fashion industry, where nothing is as it seems …

  Tricky Death – Temptation in Florence #8

  Never before has a case been as tricky as this: The newlywed husband of Carlina’s cousin is found drunk and unconscious in the arms of a dead prostitute. He claims he has no idea how he got there, but even his wife doesn't believe him.

  Contemporary Romances by Beate Boeker

  Sweet Voice

  Surely nobody falls in love with a voice, but Bridget is magnetically drawn to the man who claims that her voice bewitched him. Should she stay engaged to Bobby or trust the charmer, Daniel?

  Venetian Tangle

  Lorena doesn't believe in ghosts, but this Christmas, she's forced to face her past and her feelings while traveling to the beautiful city of Venice.

  Mischief in Italy

  In this hilarious romantic summer comedy a father-son conversation leads to unexpected results and manages to turn both their lives upside-down.

  A New Life

  How often have you wondered if A New Life wouldn’t be fun? Circumstances force Anne to start from scratch in Florence, Italy. Will she learn to love again in spite of another murder?

  Rent a Thief

  Tina can't believe she's falling in love with a thief when all she wanted was to get closer to her grown daughter. Her feelings and a mystery get thoroughly mixed up before she finds what she needs in Seattle.

  Stormy Times

  Joanna is lost in a blizzard on her way home from a difficult foaling. Just one man can save her – but he’s strangely reluctant to come to her help. However, when they find a puppy, everything changes this Christmas.

  A Little Bit of Passion

  Karen loves her life as ski instructor and part-time book store owner, but when she meets John, she has to make a choice. How much independence does she have to give up in return for love?

  Take My Place

  Maren is busy setting up her own business and being a single Mom for her daughter. She doesn't have time to fall in love with a man who's way too charming to be true, but her heart doesn't seem to know the rules.

  Wings to Fly

  Cathy's trip to Seattle catapults her into a series of events that will change her life. Is Mick the right man for her or does she first have to learn to manage on her own?

  It's Raining Men (co-written with Gwen Ellery)

  Four cousins inherit one bedraggled umbrella, and each of them has to keep it for three months. Join them during this magic, amusing, touching and romantic year, and you'll finish this novel with a happy feeling deep inside.

 

 

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