you haven’t noticed Jack.”
“Not my type.”
They stopped for a moment while Faith demonstrated what her type was and then continued toward the house. She realized she hadn’t told Tom about overhearing Hattie and Sally Culver on the terrace in Rome. The exchange about it being a fine time to get scruples and being paid. It was impossible to tell which woman had been speaking even now after meeting them. She relayed the experience, and Tom thought she was making a mountain out of a molehill.
“Or however you say it in Italian. I’m thinking we should take some conversation classes when we get back. But, Faith, the Culvers are not a mystery. I think you’re right and they’re probably just trying to get around the customs limits. Not right, but not such a big deal. Nothing too criminal.”
He didn’t need to spell it out. It wasn’t murder.
When she didn’t say anything, he stopped and faced her, putting his hands on her shoulders.
“I know you like to believe that there are secrets lurking everywhere, secret secrets and secret crimes. The people here are just your average multinational gathering of folks with stuff. Everyone has stuff, but there’s nothing deep or dark at Cucina della Rossi.”
He slid his hands down and embraced her, saying softly, “I’ve come too close to losing you too often. This last business in New York was the worst. It’s time to stop.” Stepping away, he smiled. “Now let’s pick up the pace a little. They may not have cleared away the breakfast things. I could do with another bite or two.”
Her husband could always do with another bite or two, Faith thought. She was slender now, but she knew that as she got older she’d be jealous of the Fairchild metabolism, watching Tom indulge as she counted her calories. He was right about stuff, though—everybody had it, unwanted baggage. And maybe he was right about stopping—not that she’d sought out any of her previous close calls. But he wasn’t right about secrets. In her experience, a group like this was hiding any number of things. Which reminded her. Goth Girl, a disguise?
“We forgot Olivia,” Faith said. “I think she’s going to grow on me. And no, not like mold, which is what her dark appearance suggests. The girl has to be a cook, really good amateur or pro. She’s the real deal. I can always tell.”
“So that’s everyone,” Tom said. “Our companions in whisks.”
When had he developed this penchant for terrible jokes and puns? Faith wondered. Pretty soon he’d be regaling the group with “A priest, a rabbi, and a minister walk into a trattoria” or the like. She’d have to be vigilant and nip this in the bud.
They could see the roof of the Rossis’ house, shining brightly as the sun hit it, but they were closer to another roof of an even larger place. Was it the neighbor, Jean-Luc’s? Which reminded Faith they’d left him out.
“What about neighbor Luke? He’s part of the class,” Faith said. “You’ve spent more time with him than I have. He certainly seems to know his wines—and grappa.” She’d been asleep but woke up as Tom slipped under the covers last night. When he’d kissed her, there was a faint trace of the strong afterdinner drink on his lips. Grappa was distilled from pomace—the skins, pulp, seeds, and stems left after the grapes had been pressed. Waste not, want not. Faith had had the feeling the men hadn’t put the grappa in their espresso, one of the ways she liked it, but in the small bulb-shaped glasses she’d seen on the sideboard in the dining room with a refill or two.
“Very pleasant guy, and yes, he’s like those Frenchmen who can tell you what side of the hill the grapes were growing on and whether there was too much or too little rain that year just by glancing at the label on the bottle. He really does seem more Italian, though. Hard to say why. Maybe because when he speaks it, he sounds so fluent.”
Faith had noticed his accent, too—that there wasn’t an accent.
“He was telling us,” Tom went on, “about the way everyone around here finds remains of Roman mosaics and other objects when they dig down for foundations, make a new road, or plow up a field. A treasure hunt.”
“And did he do that? Find something?”
“He’s been excavating around an old well at a site on his property and has found some pottery shards and glass he thinks date