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I trace the daisy tattoo on his arm with my fingertip.
Does Nero love me?
But I killed his brother, and he can never forgive me for that. The only reason he’s being gentle with me now is because I’m carrying his baby.
I take my hand off his arm and clench it on the sheets. I need to stop fooling myself and focus on what’s important. “How will you find out if Luca had anything to do with Harriet’s disappearance?”
“I’ll look though what messages and papers I can find. His emails and bank statements, though I’m not sure how useful those will be as we were always careful about not leaving a paper trail. His phone would be valuable. Do you know where it is?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what happened to his phone.”
Nero thinks for a moment while staring at the ceiling. “Something Shields said while I was beating him for being a child abuser keeps going through my mind. He said,This kind of thing has never bothered you before. You said it was a good way of making money.What’s a good way of making money?” He rubs his eyes. “I don’t want to know, but I have to find out.” He drops his hand and looks at me. “Who was Luca meeting with during the months you were married to him?”
“I’m not sure. He kept his business away from this house.”
“Any faces that you can describe? Names spoken on the phone?”
I think back to the final weeks with the man I called Nero. The confused, desperate weeks when I followed him around, not knowing what else to do, lost in misery and alcohol. “There were some men he did business with, but I only saw them from a distance.”
“Why only from a distance?”
“I…was following my husband,” I confess.
A slow smile spreads over Nero’s lips. “I thought I was the stalker in this marriage.”
“I’m not a stalker, and stop that. This is not a marriage.”
“What are you talking about, Rieta? We’re married. Don’t you remember what our marriage license says? Rieta Bianchi is married to Nero Lombardi. You watched me sign that marriage license. I watched you sign it. I stood at the altar with you, and we exchanged vows.”
It hurts to look at my handsome husband when there’s so much pain and confusion in my heart. “Let’s not talk about any of this. We need to focus on Harriet.”
“So tell me what you remember about my brother’s colleagues,cara mia.”
His warm arms around me, the endearment, and the way his lips whisper against my brow makes the ache in my heartdouble. “Your brother didn’t bring anyone to the house or even talk on the phone in front of me. I never hosted dinner parties to impress his associates. The only man I ever met was in passing.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
I try to remember the details. “It was the day I found out my sister Mia was pregnant. I was upset because…” Why am I sharing this? I don’t want to be sharing this with him. “I was with Annie and Harriet in a restaurant when Nero came in with one of his associates.”
“Luca,” Nero corrects me. “Lucacame in. I’m Nero, and I always have been.”
“Sorry. Yes. Luca came in with one of his associates. They stood by our table for a moment talking. The man was in his forties, and he had blondish, reddish hair. The kind people call strawberry blond. I think Luca called him Costa. That’s all I remember.”
My face creases with emotion, and I press a hand over my eyes.
“Rieta?”
Swallowing the tears down, I say, “I just realized that was the last time I saw Harriet.”
Nero draws his thumbs beneath my eyes, wiping away the tears. “Thank you for telling me this.”
My husband never treated me so tenderly. I don’t know what to do. I want to start crying again.
“It’s somewhere to start. I’ll be back later.”
Before Nero can get out of bed, I put my hand on his wrist. “Wait. Who was the man who called mecara mia? Him or you?”
He watches me for a moment. “When do you remember being calledcara mia?”
