Page 34
Story: Edge of Whispers
Marco
We all stared at each other after Nell stopped reading, eyes wide with shock.
“Wow,” Vivi whispered. “That guy really knew how to lay a guilt trip.”
“I bet that’s why she never married,” Nell said. “She had men chasing her all her life, but she blew them off. She must have still been in love with Marco.”
“And they spent their entire lives apart.” I stared at the photo. The innocent happiness radiating out of the young couple made my stomach hurt. “All because of some horrible thing that happened to the Conte. Between the years of 1966 and 1968.”
“Do you guys think that this horrible thing could possibly be connected to the horrible things happening now?” Vivi’s voice was timid.
I folded the letter delicately back into its original creases. “Well, this Marco had a map,” I said. “And he was looking for some hidden object. In Lucia’s letter, she refers to “this thing,” plus what happened to her father and what it did to her marriage. So, yeah. I can’t imagine how, but yeah. Somehow, they’re all connected.”
“And this is not good news,” Nell said. “Since we are utterly clueless.”
“At least the letter I found in the garbage makes it clear that the ‘thing’ she’s referring to isn’t the trio of necklaces that she gave us,” I said. “The necklaces are the key, she said. So maybe this secret thing is in that safe that the carpenter installed?”
“Yeah, the safe we have no combination for.” Nell held up her pendant. It spun, tiny rubies gleaming in the light of the candles she’d set around her Williamsburg apartment.
“I guess we could count the stones, try the different sequences we come up with as possible combinations to the safe,” I mused. “But that doesn’t use our love of music, literature, or the visual arts. It seems too obvious. Lucia had a more devious personality than that.” I tucked the photograph and the letter carefully back into the picture frame. “She was gearing up to tell us more when she was killed.”
“Killed?” Vivi choked on her pizza, coughing. “God, Nance. You really think ... ?”
“The jeweler and his family get murdered the same night the house is trashed, and before I can talk to him about the necklaces? Hell, yes. I do think that.”
Nell reclasped her pendant around her neck, her dark eyes worried. “I’ve never seen you this way, Nance. You’d say you were fine even if you were bleeding to death. I about dropped my teeth when you asked to come over tonight to stay. Not that you aren’t more than welcome. I’m scared too, and I’m glad to have you both here.”
I fidgeted. “Oh, that’s just because I swore a vow,” I blurted. “I would’ve been perfectly fine at home.”
“Vow?” Vivi straightened up, eyes wide. “What vow? To whom?”
“To Liam.” I picked at the fabric of my jeans, already regretting my incautious words. “The carpenter who was going to do the remodel.”
Nell and Vivi exchanged significant looks. “He made you swear not to stay alone?” Nell asked. “This is the carpenter who flash-memorized Lucia’s letter? My. He certainly is taking a personal interest, isn’t he?”
If they only knew. “I guess you could say that,” I hedged.
“Tell us about this carpenter,” Nell prompted. “I’m picturing a potbellied guy with a bushy beard, a red nose, and twinkling eyes. Like a young Santa. Jeans slipping down over a big, hairy ass crack. Am I close?”
“Nope,” I admitted. “Light-years.”
Her sisters exchanged knowing looks. “So?” Vivi asked. “No potbelly? No hairy ass-crack? Do tell.”
“His belly’s pretty tight,” I hedged. “I can’t speak for his ass, but shape-wise, it was … well, proportional. In his jeans.”
“Proportional, hmm?” Vivi purred. “Height?”
“Maybe six-two,” I admitted. “Maybe a little more.”
“Six-two,” Nell said dreamily. “Nice. Eye color?”
“Very pale green. Dollar bill green.”
Nell and Vivi gave each other a high five. “She remembers his eye color! She has fanciful metaphors for it!” Vivi crowed. “It’s serious!”
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.
“Let’s celebrate.” Nell popped open another beer. “At least this guy isn’t a musician, right? That’s already a big step up.”
We all stared at each other after Nell stopped reading, eyes wide with shock.
“Wow,” Vivi whispered. “That guy really knew how to lay a guilt trip.”
“I bet that’s why she never married,” Nell said. “She had men chasing her all her life, but she blew them off. She must have still been in love with Marco.”
“And they spent their entire lives apart.” I stared at the photo. The innocent happiness radiating out of the young couple made my stomach hurt. “All because of some horrible thing that happened to the Conte. Between the years of 1966 and 1968.”
“Do you guys think that this horrible thing could possibly be connected to the horrible things happening now?” Vivi’s voice was timid.
I folded the letter delicately back into its original creases. “Well, this Marco had a map,” I said. “And he was looking for some hidden object. In Lucia’s letter, she refers to “this thing,” plus what happened to her father and what it did to her marriage. So, yeah. I can’t imagine how, but yeah. Somehow, they’re all connected.”
“And this is not good news,” Nell said. “Since we are utterly clueless.”
“At least the letter I found in the garbage makes it clear that the ‘thing’ she’s referring to isn’t the trio of necklaces that she gave us,” I said. “The necklaces are the key, she said. So maybe this secret thing is in that safe that the carpenter installed?”
“Yeah, the safe we have no combination for.” Nell held up her pendant. It spun, tiny rubies gleaming in the light of the candles she’d set around her Williamsburg apartment.
“I guess we could count the stones, try the different sequences we come up with as possible combinations to the safe,” I mused. “But that doesn’t use our love of music, literature, or the visual arts. It seems too obvious. Lucia had a more devious personality than that.” I tucked the photograph and the letter carefully back into the picture frame. “She was gearing up to tell us more when she was killed.”
“Killed?” Vivi choked on her pizza, coughing. “God, Nance. You really think ... ?”
“The jeweler and his family get murdered the same night the house is trashed, and before I can talk to him about the necklaces? Hell, yes. I do think that.”
Nell reclasped her pendant around her neck, her dark eyes worried. “I’ve never seen you this way, Nance. You’d say you were fine even if you were bleeding to death. I about dropped my teeth when you asked to come over tonight to stay. Not that you aren’t more than welcome. I’m scared too, and I’m glad to have you both here.”
I fidgeted. “Oh, that’s just because I swore a vow,” I blurted. “I would’ve been perfectly fine at home.”
“Vow?” Vivi straightened up, eyes wide. “What vow? To whom?”
“To Liam.” I picked at the fabric of my jeans, already regretting my incautious words. “The carpenter who was going to do the remodel.”
Nell and Vivi exchanged significant looks. “He made you swear not to stay alone?” Nell asked. “This is the carpenter who flash-memorized Lucia’s letter? My. He certainly is taking a personal interest, isn’t he?”
If they only knew. “I guess you could say that,” I hedged.
“Tell us about this carpenter,” Nell prompted. “I’m picturing a potbellied guy with a bushy beard, a red nose, and twinkling eyes. Like a young Santa. Jeans slipping down over a big, hairy ass crack. Am I close?”
“Nope,” I admitted. “Light-years.”
Her sisters exchanged knowing looks. “So?” Vivi asked. “No potbelly? No hairy ass-crack? Do tell.”
“His belly’s pretty tight,” I hedged. “I can’t speak for his ass, but shape-wise, it was … well, proportional. In his jeans.”
“Proportional, hmm?” Vivi purred. “Height?”
“Maybe six-two,” I admitted. “Maybe a little more.”
“Six-two,” Nell said dreamily. “Nice. Eye color?”
“Very pale green. Dollar bill green.”
Nell and Vivi gave each other a high five. “She remembers his eye color! She has fanciful metaphors for it!” Vivi crowed. “It’s serious!”
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.
“Let’s celebrate.” Nell popped open another beer. “At least this guy isn’t a musician, right? That’s already a big step up.”
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