Jax might be a pragmatic lawyer, but he was a creative lover. She didn’t know how she’d ever done without him—and that wasn’t just in bed. He was the side of her brain that went missing at birth.
“Lady Katherine was a mere Katherine Gladwell without a hint of Italian in her.”
“Not a lady, gee, who woulda guessed?” Evie mentally smacked herself for being judgmental. Aristocrats might have suspicious auras too. But frauds...yeah, that almost made sense.Not Italian?Her mind spun into overtime.
Accustomed to her spinning wheels, Jax ignored the commentary. “She used to sell cosmetics in one of London’s department stores. Vincent, her father, is a dealer, always looking for investments for his next big thing. He’s been bankrupt a time or two. Their big break came when Lucia Ugazio, Katherine’s half-sister, came to stay with her a few years back. Lucia is the actual Italian in the family.”
“Half-sister, huh. Kit-Kat and Lucia shared a mother, who presumably was not Italian?” Evie tried to form a picture puzzle in her head as she searched for the fraudulent Lady Katherine’s elusive aura.
“Yes, but the mother died. The problem is, no one can find Lucia. Her father was the Italian in the family. He left her the estate where La Bella Gente obtains its olive oil. She’s supposed to be the brains behind the manufacture and sales of their products, but no one ever sees her except in commercials.”
“Do they know when she was last seen? Maybe she lives in Italy.”
“They’re working on tracking her. Her passport hasn’t been used since she went to Italy a few years ago. Her passport address is the house she shared with Katherine. Katherine may have been the last person to see her.”
“Well, if Lucia’s passport hasn’t been used, unless she’s traveling with a fake, she couldn’t have been here to kill her sister. Pris went to Italy because of the olive oil connection. She can check out Lucia’s farm.” Not that her cousin did anything she didn’t want to do, but Pris wasn’t stupid. It was her career being jeopardized by vicious rumor. “Do we know how the other guys are connected?”
“Matthew Gladwell is Katherine’s brother and CFO. Rube hasn’t traced the male models except to learn they were hired in London. The boutique’s products are made in the UK by a company run by Vincent and his investors. Nicolas Gladwell is in charge of marketing, another relation to our victim, a distant cousin from her father’s side.”
Evie frowned. “The man who wept over her? I thought they were lovers.”
“The family tree looks like a banyan, so many divorces that it’s hard to say who’s related to whom. He might only be a cousin-in-law or a step-cousin. Whatever, they’re keeping it all in the family.”
“And Katherine is dead while Lucia is missing. Hiding, maybe? And Lucia and Katherine’s mother is dead also? Not a lucky family.”
“The mother was English, apparently didn’t like Italy, abandoned Lucia to her father and returned to marry Gladwell as far as we’re able to tell. But she died not long after Lucia left Italy for London.”
“Huh, not liking this family. How many more boutiques does the company have or are we the first?” Evie decided she might be more productive if she visited La Bella Gente to see who was in charge.
“They’re opening shops up and down the east coast. They have several in London. Roark and Ariel are looking into their finances. At least those are in English.”
“Any nearby besides the one here?” Keeping her eyes open for flitting colors, Evie aimed for the side door of the plant.
“On this side of the pond, their business model seems to be tourist towns. Myrtle Beach and Hilton Head, I think. I don’t know why they didn’t try Beaufort instead of Afterthought.”
“They had Larraine to back them here. Our new mayor loves their product. I have to go home and fix an after-school snack for Loretta and catch up on the gossip. Will you be home for dinner?” Evie stepped into the parking lot and aimed for her Subaru.
“Unless the brouhaha at city hall gets any worse, I’ll be there. Tell Loretta I’ll help her with her project this evening.” He signed off.
Evie gave a sigh of happiness. She had feared guardianship of a millionaire child would be beyond her abilities, but it was turning out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her. And to Jax. His uptight aura was starting to unfurl in cheerful hues that might actually reflect happiness for a change. And Loretta said Evie’s bubble was bubblier instead of sharp these days.
And a souped-up, cherry-red station wagon was far better than the Miata she’d once dreamed of owning. She settled behind the wheel, turned the ignition...and almost jumped out of her skin.
In the passenger seat glowed a very confused lemon-yellow aura marred by angry tinges of red with hints of muddy blue fear.
Well, she’d wanted to see blue in a ghost for a change.
Eight: Pris
Italy
Pris studied the enormous,draped poster bed in the room to which Emma Rossi led her. The room itself was probably larger than her studio apartment. The bed might be the size of her kitchen. But the draperies were worn chintz and brown water spots stained the fading pink walls.
Still, from the double French doors, the view of the hill bathed in moonlight was spectacular. Once upon a time, she supposed, there had been gardens and terraces. Now, only the kitchen garden remained. Palaces were difficult to maintain without servants. Or very large families.
She’d seen olive trees on her way up here, so she assumed Gladwell’s farm and production plant were nearby. She had no notion of how to approach it. She just resented the heck out of being accused of murder by bigots like Jane Lawson.
Pris hadn’t had a new call for her services since the poisonous lie had hit Lawless Jane’s faux news column. Maybe she shouldn’t have insulted the columnist on election night, but it had been too irresistible. Who knew people actually listened to idiots if they shouted loud enough?
