Secrets Of Bella Terra Read Online Free PDF Page A

comforting delusion of Nonna’s immortality and a home that waited for him forever.
    Rafe was going to make that bastard sorry he had ever been born. He clutched the cup, taking comfort from its warmth. “What haven’t you told me about the attack?”
    “Nothing, damn it. Not a damned thing.” Eli took a sip and shuddered at the flavor.
    “We don’t get that much violence here.” Noah was the director of Bella Terra Resort, in touch with city and state officials. “Drunk tourists, of course, some drugs and shoplifting, but not this kind of random stuff, and the cops haven’t got the personnel and equipment to deal with it.”
    “Get me the police report.” Then, remembering these were his brothers and not someone who worked for him, Rafe said, “Please, can you get me the police report?”
    Eli pulled out his smartphone, punched a few buttons, and said, “I’ve forwarded it. Will you review it right away?”
    “No.” Most definitely no. “I want to make my own observations untainted by what anyone else has decided.”
    “Bryan DuPey was the one who said it was a vagrant,” Noah said, “and he’s the chief of police.”
    “Dopey is the chief of police?” Rafe couldn’t believe it.
    Eli laughed at the reminder of their high school taunts. “Yeah, but we pronounce it DuPey now.”
    “Why? He was always an idiot.” Rafe dismissed DuPey without a second thought.
    “Yeah, but he loves Nonna’s cookies,” Noah said. “He really tried, Rafe, but the thief, or whatever he was, didn’t do anything to the house. They even tried fingerprinting and didn’t get anywhere.”
    “So the perp wore gloves. That’s not your usual drug addict, ‘I’ve got to get enough cash for my next fix’ thief.” Rafe looked at his brothers, who were both slouched against the wall and grimacing about the coffee.
    He took a sip and reflected that it wasn’t so bad. Bitter and grainy, but at least it was hot.
    But what did he know? Kyrgyzstan didn’t boast a lot of Starbucks.
    “What if Bryan is right? What if it was just a vagrant?” Noah sounded relaxed, and looked as if he’d been worried every minute of the last two days.
    “Then Nonna wouldn’t be troubled about us.” Rafe remembered what she’d said:
They have knives. They have guns. Even after all these years, he’s so angry.
“Who’s so angry? The Marinos?”
    “They’re wild men, but even they draw the line at beating up old ladies,” Noah said. “Joseph Bianchin is a mean old bully, but he’s the last of his line, and I don’t know why he’d start a gang now.”
    “Then who’s she talking about?” Rafe insisted.

Chapter 5

    “N onna’s got a concussion. She’s . . . been rambling.” Eli threw his unfinished coffee in the garbage.
    Rafe’s chest grew tight. “She is going to be okay, right?”
    “Yeah. Sure.” But Eli didn’t look at him.
    And Rafe knew about concussions. He’d seen enough of them in combat; he probably knew as much as the doctors. Touchy things. He didn’t even know why he was asking except that he desperately needed reassurance. Desperately needed to know his grandmother would be back in her place on the home ranch, there to welcome him when he came home. “Have there been any other attacks like this one? Any attacks in Bella Valley or Sonoma or Napa?” he asked.
    Both Rafe’s brothers shook their heads.
    “All right.” So it was probably a targeted attack. “What details does Nonna give about the attack?”
    “She isn’t talking much about what happened this week.” Noah sat on one of the plastic chairs. “But she’s crystal clear about what happened fifty-nine years ago.”
    “What happened fifty-nine years ago?” Rafe asked.
    “She got married.” Noah stretched out his legs.
    “Got pregnant on her wedding night. Worse luck,” Rafe said.
    “Nine months later produced our father.” Eli had that look on his face, the one he got when he tasted bad wine.
    “Any other disasters you know of?”