Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,28

missed home. And Jorge, she told me, became more distant, more—it would be restrictive. She said he only wished her to present herself as his wife, to attend the social events with him, the business dinners.”

She managed a smile at Eve. “She was so beautiful, you see, so charming and knowledgeable about the business. This made her an asset to him, and I think she felt that’s what she had become. Only that to him. An asset.

“She wished to take Angelo to Tuscany, to show him his mama’s home, but Jorge wouldn’t allow it. He worked very much, and gave her little time. She was lonely, and she missed her family, her home. She had no real friends, as he wished her only to socialize with the wives of clients, to take them to lunch or host parties.”

“Why didn’t she tell me? I’m her mama.”

Tereza turned to Anna Maria. “She didn’t want to disappoint you. You didn’t want her to marry so soon, to marry Jorge without more time. And still when she wanted him, you gave your blessing. You were right, Mama. Galla said to me you were right. But she had married him, and they had a son. She asked for my promise not to tell you or Papa, not even to tell you, mi amore. I’m sorry.”

“Do you think I’d be angry with you for keeping your word to my sister? For giving her comfort when she was unhappy?”

“I told her, come back with me. I would help her bring the baby home, but she wouldn’t. She said she couldn’t take her husband’s son from him. And then …”

She rubbed a hand over her heart. “Is there water, please?”

“I’ll get you some.” Peabody rose, walked to where she’d stacked tubes of water. “She was lucky to have you. To have someone to talk to.”

“Thank you. Thank you. It was weeks later. We kept in closer contact after the visit. I tried to speak to her or write with her every day if I could. She told me she’d met someone, an artist. She bought one of his paintings—one of home. She would go for walks, or for runs—this was an outlet. And she met him when she was walking. They became friendly. They became more. And she was happy. She found love. She knew it was wrong to break her vows.”

Her family said nothing as she stopped to drink some water.

“She thought of divorce, of going back home to see if her heart stayed with the artist. Then she thought, again, of her vows, and the child she had made with her husband. Though she was happy, she knew she couldn’t simply end her marriage, break her family. She had to try to mend it. She tells me all this. Tells me, a week or two ago—two, I think—she ended her love affair. She said her lover wept with her, and so I wept with her.”

Tereza closed her eyes. “I wept with her because I think she makes a mistake, and should have gone with her heart. I don’t say this to her. I think I wish I had.”

She fought back tears, drank water before turning to her father-in-law. She spoke softly in Italian. He shook his head, drew her toward him, kissed her temple.

Then he straightened in his chair, those dark eyes burning into Eve’s. “You think this artist killed her because she ended it?”

“No, sir, I don’t. She went to the park that night to meet him, at his request. But—” she said as the rage came back into his face. “He asked her to meet him to say goodbye with a gift. A painting to be a companion to the one she’d bought when they’d met. He came forward to me, and told me what your daughter-in-law has just confirmed. He had the painting. I believe his grief was as real as yours. More, the evidence we have doesn’t support his involvement in her death.”

“Jorge.” Unlike Antonio’s wife, Anna Maria’s face had gone stark white. “There is coldness in him. Galla couldn’t see it. She was blind to it, but there is coldness in him.”

“We have no evidence that places him in the park at the time of her death. All evidence indicates he was at home, never left the residence that evening. However, we’ll interview him extensively.

“Mr. Modesto?”

“Sì?”

“Your daughter-in-law keeps her word. Do you?”

“If I give my word, I do not break it.”

“I need the word of everyone at this table. Everyone here