Free Suspicious (On the Run) by Sara Rosett Page B

tiny, little more than two rows of shelves on each side and a cash register at the back. Zoe immediately recognized the woman who’d entered the store was Harrington’s flustered assistant. The rolling bag she pulled behind her bumped one of the shelves and sent a stack of T-shirts sliding.
    “So sorry—oh.”
    “Amy, isn’t?” Zoe asked as she grabbed the T-shirts before they hit the floor.
    “Yes. Um…” A sales person, a girl in her late teens, came out from behind the cash register, frowning.
    “Zoe. From the exhibit.” They stepped back and the sales girl replaced the shirts.
    “Right. Sorry. I’m just so scattered. With everything that’s happened—I just wanted a shirt. I have to get something before I leave Rome.”
    “You’re leaving?”
    “Yes. I can’t wait to get out of this city. I thought that horrid little detective or inspector, or whatever he is, wasn’t going to let me leave. He actually said we all had to stay.” Her hair slipped over her face and she pushed it behind her ear with fingers that shook. “As if Mrs. Davray would stand for that. Mrs. Davray told him that she is not going to miss her flight this afternoon. And Mr. Goccetto has been gone for hours anyway.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes. He caught some late flight last night after the exhibit so it is completely unreasonable to expect the rest of us to stay. It’s not like we know anything.” She heaved a sigh. “If only Mr. Throckmorton were here, he would have sorted everything out. I’m on holiday today. My mum’s expecting to pick me up at the airport this afternoon. It’s the first holiday I’ve had since going to work for M&P, and if Mr. Throckmorton were here, there wouldn’t even be a question. He’d see that I got to leave. Of course, Mrs. Davray did too,” she added reluctantly, “but with her, it’s more of an accident that it happened. Mr. Throckmorton would remember that I was on holiday and make sure I got it.”
    “And Harrington? Where’s he?”
    “No one knows.” Her eyes widened. “Not like him at all. He’s never rude. He always returns calls and never misses a meeting. People are whispering…” She lowered her voice then suddenly seemed to remember something and flushed. “Never mind. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. We’re not supposed to talk to anyone. About any of it,” she added miserably. “I just forgot. You were at the exhibit and all…” she trailed off.
    The sales girl held up one of the shirts with an Italian flag on it.
    “Um…” Amy pushed her flyaway hair out of her eyes. “No. Do you have one with the Colosseum on it? Yes? Oh, good. Yes. I’ll take it. Small. Little.” Amy held her hands a few inches apart.
    The three of them did a little dance, moving around so that the sales girl and Amy could get to the back of the store where Amy paid.
    “Well, goodbye,” Amy said as she passed Zoe on her way out.
    “Have a good flight.” Zoe browsed the T-shirts then decided she needed to move along. As she turned to leave, she saw Amy had left several papers and an airline ticket on the counter by the cash register.
    Zoe snatched them and sprinted to the sidewalk. Amy was already almost to the piazza where a rank of taxis waited. Zoe jogged up the street and caught her just as she glided into one of the taxis while the driver held the door.
    An expression of alarm chased across Amy’s face as she turned to Zoe, her eyes sharp and wary, but then almost instantly the expression was gone, replaced by a limpid half-questioning gaze. “You forgot this.” Zoe held out the papers and the ticket.
    “Oh, thank you. I would have—I don’t know what I would have done—”
    Zoe cut off her stammering thanks. “You’re welcome. Better get going.” She stepped back and the driver slammed the door then moved to his own seat. The taxi tore down the street and Zoe followed slowly.
    Jack met her coming up the street. “You look contemplative.”
    She recounted her