Death in the Dolomites by David Wagner (people reading books TXT) 📗

Rick translated he marveled at how Luca was dealing with the situation. There was a combination of patience and empathy in the policeman’s words which Rick tried to convey when he put them into English.

“I’ll start making a list of things to be done. Perhaps it’s best to immerse myself in details, to keep my mind off the reality of his death.” Her eyes moved to the wood beams on the ceiling and back to Rick. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“Whatever works for you, Cat.”

Her hair was not brushed, and she was without makeup. A heavy, wine-colored robe covered most of her body, but below it and at the neck he could see flannel pajamas decorated with tiny brown bears. On her feet were furry slippers that covered her ankles. It was sleepwear a twelve-year-old would wear, Rick thought, but perhaps it gave her comfort. It was also likely that she was not expecting to see Lotti this evening. And she’d hoped not to have this visit.

Luca tapped Rick on the shoulder. “I think I’ve done what I’ve had to,” he whispered. “Perhaps it would be easier for her if I left. I know you can do better at comforting than I.”

Rick nodded. “Sure, Luca. You’ve done well. I’ll do what I can.” They rose to their feet. “Cat, the inspector has to get back to the station. I’ll stay for a while if you’d like.”

“I would, Rick.” She got to her feet and thanked the policeman. Luca shook her hand and made hand gestures to indicate that he could see himself out. When the door shut quietly, Rick and Cat took seats opposite each other.

“I called home, and Maria reminded me that my parents are on their annual cruise in the Caribbean. I forgot it was this week.” She took a sip from a glass next to the sofa. It looked like Scotch, but since he hadn’t been offered anything, it was only a guess. Rick also guessed that Maria was someone on the Taylor homestead staff, but he didn’t ask for clarification. “They won’t be back in port for a week,” she continued. “And it’s not worth getting them off the ship. What can they do at this point?”

Rick wondered how he would have reacted to the news that his sister had been murdered. Both sides of his family, New Mexican and Italian, would be vying with the other to give him support and share his sadness. In that way, his two cultures were not all that different. “Do you have any other family you should be in touch with, Cat? Aunts? Uncles?”

She appeared to find the question strange. “I have an uncle,” she said finally, “but he’s old and lives in a nursing home in Florida. I haven’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even invited to my wedding. There’s nobody else, really.”

Rick silently thanked his good fortune of being born into a large, extended family.

“Inspector Albani told me that someone from the consulate will be here tomorrow to help you. I’ll bring him over when he arrives.” She nodded mechanically. “There’s something else, Cat. As the inspector said, tomorrow morning you’ll have to identify your brother’s body. It’s a formality that has to be done. I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

Her blank look made him wonder if she was understanding anything he’d said. After nodding her head slowly she responded. “Of course. I understand. It’s kind of you to go with me.” She looked down at the glass as if it had just appeared on the table, picked it up, and took a long pull. Rick was now sure it was some kind of whiskey.

He rose to his feet. “Cat, I’d better go. Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

She made no attempt to get up, but looked at him with a weak smile. “Thank you, Rick.”

“You have my cell phone number, if you need anything before that.”

“Yes. Thank you. I’ll be okay.”

Her eyes turned toward the window where the lights of the town gave the darkness a faintly yellow glow. She pulled up her knees, held them together with her arms, and rocked slowly in the chair. Rick silently let himself out.

***

Heavy snow swirled into the hallway when Rick opened the door to step out on the sidewalk in front of Cat’s building. He tightened his hat and pulled up the collar of his coat. It covered only the bottom half of his ears, but was better than leaving them completely exposed. The snow and the hour had pushed people into the warmth of the buildings. Only an occasional car made its way tentatively along the street, its headlights carving a wedge of speckled, moving light through the darkness. Rick kept his head down, watching his cowboy boots scuff through the accumulating snow.

Doubts ran through his mind. Could he have done something more to comfort her? Should he have stayed longer? It was not a situation he had experienced before, giving that kind of news to someone. Even though it was Luca who had delivered the words officially, Rick felt responsible. She had heard it from him. The girl is alone in a foreign country, he thought, and all I did was give her the terrible news, say a few kind words, and leave. He shook his head, stopped and looked back up at the windows of Cat’s apartment, its faint light just visible through the snow. After a few moments of thought he started back toward the door. After taking two steps he heard a muffled cry behind him.

He turned and squinted through the swirling flakes, barely making out two figures. One lay on the sidewalk, the other stood defiantly above him before landing a sharp kick and running in the opposite direction, disappearing almost instantly into the storm. Rick’s first thought was that the two men had taken a bar argument outside to settle, something he was all too familiar with from his time in Albuquerque. Forgetting