Page 10 of Winter

“Spoilsport.”

Nancy stuck her head around the door. “Ah, daughter mine. Glad to see you’re not dead. Any chance you two can do some work today?”

Tommaso had been waitingfor Raffaelo to say something all day. After meeting Inca, his brother had disappeared into the depths of the mansion to work and Tommaso hadn’t seen him. Now, though, as Tommaso sat chatting with Debbie, their new chef, Raffaelo made an appearance in the large kitchen.

“Good evening.”

Tommaso smiled at his brother and Debbie nodded to him. She was a middle-aged woman, no nonsense and very discreet. Her food, the twins had discovered in a very short time, was out of this world.

“I was just trying to persuade Debbie to let me open a restaurant for her. It’s a crime her food is hidden away from the world.”

Debbie laughed. “Your brother is very generous, but he exaggerates.”

Raffaelo half-smiled at her. “About some things, but not this. Tommaso, may I speak with you outside for a moment? We shan’t be long, Debbie; I promise.”

Tommaso followed his brother outside. The night was cold and cloudy, threatening snow. Raffaelo lit a cigarette and studied his brother. “What the hell were you doing with that girl?”

Tommaso hid a grin. “Debbie?”

“You know damn well who I mean.”

“Oh, Inca. I would have thought it was obvious …”

Raffaelo shook his head in disgust. “That’s not why we came here, Tommaso. We said no complications. No situations that could compromise …”

“What?” Tommaso was irritated now. “I met a beautiful woman; I was attracted to her; I fucked her. I hope to fuck her again. Many, many times. What’s wrong with that?”

Raffaelo sighed. “Just don’t … get too involved. You know we can’t.”

Tommaso was silent. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t promise anything. Inca’s a very sweet woman … and beautiful. I know you noticed that.”

Raffaelo hesitated, then nodded. “Heartbreakingly beautiful. Which concerns me, Tommaso. Women like that …”

“What? What, brother? Women like that are what?”

But Raffaelo didn’t answer him.

Olly Rosenbaum dumpedhis paperwork on the desk and clicked off the light. He’d been working for forty-eight hours straight with the homicide team from the city and he was drained. The horror of finding the two murdered women had finally hit him, and he wanted to go home and forget their faces.

At home, he threw back a scotch and poured another, knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea but to hell with it. Molly was in the city, working on the same case, and Olly toyed with the idea of calling Inca and talking to her, but he talked himself out of it. He couldn’t keep dumping on her; after all, he’d been the one to finish it.

Something else stopped him. Both the women who had been killed were of Asian descent and he kept seeing Inca’s face when he thought about them. Willowbrook had only ever had one murder before—long before his time—but this was a whole new level of terrifying. He hadn’t recognized either of the women, which meant their killer had brought them here to kill and dump them. That was way too close for Olly’s liking.

Don’t be ridiculous,he thought,you don’t even know if their ancestry had anything to do with it.

But he couldn’t stop imagining the killer seeing Inca and deciding she would be next on his list. No, stop it. It wasn’t as if he had any right to be her protector …

You’re the police chief; you have every right.

Dammit.He picked up the phone and called her. She answered after the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Inks, you busy?”

There was a hesitation. “I was going to have an early night. Can it wait?”

Olly couldn’t help but feel stung. “Yeah, sure. You okay?”