The Body in the Piazza - By Katherine Hall Page Page 0,55

realized that Terry Russo was tugging at her elbow. “I know it’s spectacular, but we’re leaving now.”

Faith had been standing stock-still, lost in thought. She focused on the room. They’d been in and out of bedrooms and baths—she’d registered that much—but this was undoubtably the master, and it was spectacular. One of the largest beds she’d ever seen was set against a wall decorated with another trompe l’oeil fresco, this one floor to ceiling. In between Corinthian columns cerulean blue swags hung above a series of vistas, like those in the background of Renaissance paintings—tiny hill towns, misty embankments, shimmering lakes. The bed itself was covered with a white spread so pristine that Faith imagined someone whose only job was to wash and then iron it in situ every day.

“Are you okay? I mean you seem a little out of it,” Terry asked anxiously, steering Faith out of the room and into the adjoining one.

“I’m fine. The heat sometimes gets to me,” she said.

Terry looked skeptical. The temperature inside the house was almost too cool. Possibly central air or just the thick several-hundred-year-old walls. “Oh my God!” Terry said. It was her turn to stop in her tracks.

Faith, now tuned in to her surroundings, was tempted to echo the woman’s words.

They were in the master bath to end all master baths. A master bath easily as big as the First Parish parsonage’s entire downstairs. The fixtures were the most twenty-first century she’d ever seen: the high-tech Japanese toilet that did everything for you except the actual act of elimination; as well as a glass-enclosed shower large enough for two, or even three, with a rain forest showerhead plus jets that she’d read about—they misted parts of the entire body with one’s preferred scents; and then the tub itself, sunken of course, and carved from Romano travertine. She’d seen a photo of a similar one in a suite at the Rome Cavalieri in her wanderings online looking at hotels before Francesca had sent the information on the hotel where they’d stayed. Like the luxury hotel, there was a large picture window in this bath. Instead of St. Peter’s, Luke’s seemed to overlook all of Tuscany. And a Swarovski crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. But it wasn’t the view, the fixtures, the stone, the tile work, not even the fireplace, but the aquarium that wrapped around the bathtub on three sides, extending all the way to the top of the room, that took Faith’s breath away. It was alive with exotic fish and gently swaying aquatic plants, yet what made it so extraordinary was the concave glass. Luxuriating in the tub, you’d feel as if you were immersed in a tropical sea.

“When can I move in?” Terry said.

Luke laughed. “You are welcome anytime. I admit this room is over-the-top, but ever since I was a little boy, I’ve dreamed of being a merman and this is the closest I’ll get.”

The group left quietly to change places with the others, who had progressed to coffee. The bathroom had literally left them speechless.

As usual, Jack and Sky had stayed together. Tom jumped up and walked into the house with them. A threesome. Not a three-way, surely! Suddenly Faith was back at the window in her room. Sky was wearing a sundress now that didn’t cover much more than her bikini had.

But her thoughts quickly went back to the notebook sitting so tantalizingly near, and she wondered whether Tom would notice it, too. Or did he only have eyes for something, or someone, else?

One thing was cheering her up though. Luke had said they were “welcome anytime.” He may have been talking about a soak in his bathtub, but Faith was choosing to interpret it as a more general invitation—and one she intended to take him up on just as soon as she made sure he wasn’t home.

Compartmentalize, Faith told herself. Create some mental storage containers, fill them up, and seal the doors. And do it now. What was that quote, something like “We may pass this way but once”? And who knew when she’d pass the breathtaking scene outside again—it would be a crime to miss it. The van seemed to be climbing to the top of the world and as the road wound ever higher, the view of the valley below became more enchanting. The vineyards and olive groves had begun as well-defined straight lines, lush green with spots of color from the wild yellow broom and red poppies. And now it