Free Luscious by Amanda Usen Page B

still access the contacts in his cell phone. When an operator came on the line, he recited Russo’s number and waited for the call to go through.
    “Mr. Russo, this is Sean Kindred,” he said when Russo picked up.
    “Why haven’t you been answering your cell phone?” Russo sounded harried, as usual.
    “No signal. I’m getting another phone tomorrow, and I’ll text you the number as soon as I can. Do you have any information for me?” He hoped to keep this conversation brief.
    “Marilyn is in Padua. At the Hotel Loggia Antica. Five hundred bucks a night.”
    Sean stifled a smile. Mrs. Russo knew just how to push her husband’s buttons. “I’ll Google it. Maybe I can catch her tomorrow.”
    “Why not tonight?’
    “Jet-lagged. Why don’t you send any new messages or pictures to my email? I’m sure I can find a computer around here somewhere.”
    “I’ll do that. Let me know as soon as you have news.” Russo hung up.
    Sean replaced the phone on the table and left his room. As he descended the stairs, he admired the family photographs that lined the stairwell. He paused to take a look at a photograph of a hawk-faced boy picking grapes, wondering if that was Olivia’s grandfather. The sun-dappled vineyard seemed to stretch for miles alongside him. There was so much peace and contentment in the photo that Sean stared at it for a long time before he continued down the stairs and out the front door, turning left to loop around the side of the villa. He could just see the roof of the building he had spotted from his bedroom window, so he continued along the path until he reached stone steps cut into the hillside.
    The air was warm and smelled sweet. The lush green grass and tall evergreen trees glowed beneath the late afternoon sun. The cloudless blue sky looked full of promise. He checked his cell phone again, as if it would suddenly, magically, get a signal. So much for international roaming. He followed the steps down the escarpment until he reached the front porch of the building set in the hill. Business hours were chalked on a sign out front, so he assumed he didn’t need to knock. A bell tinkled as he opened the door. He stepped inside.
    The room was empty.
    “Hello?” Silence.
    He shut the door and looked around the long, narrow room. The walls held racks of wine bottles. Colorful displays featured all manners of corkscrews, diffusers, decanters, chillers, and everything relating to the enjoyment of wine. A wine list was chalked on the wall behind a small bar that showcased more beautiful rose-colored marble. Padded wooden stools sat at the bar and the atmosphere invited him to take a seat and choose a sample, although there was no one behind the bar to serve him.
    He spotted a door at the back of the room and moved toward it. From the outside, the structure looked larger than could be explained by this shallow room. There must be more to see.
    He knocked once before he turned the knob. Cautiously, he poked his head through the doorway. Still no sign of life, except for a quiet whooshing noise. He stepped into a narrow, dim hallway and peered into the first open door on his left.
    It looked like a laboratory. Beakers, pipettes, and test tubes were scattered over the long counter. Cabinets lined the wall above the workstation. At the back of the room, racks held unfamiliar equipment. To his right, cardboard boxes were stacked to the ceiling and a basket held labels and packing tape. This must be where the wine was tested and later shipped.
    He continued down the hall. The next room held a computer, a desk, a bank of filing cabinets, and a couple of chairs. Perhaps he could find someone to let him use the computer to check his email. He found two more doors at the end of the hall. The one at the very end was locked. He turned to the right and cautiously stepped into the last room.
    A muffled sob broke the silence and he froze, halfway into the small kitchen. A dark-haired woman sat on a small stool next