Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2) by Christa Polkinhorn

eleven years ago. She took a deep breath. “It’s quite an involved story, but
this is what we know.” She told them about Martin and Angelo’s past, what she and
Nicholas had found out from the Segantino family in New York. She mentioned the
skeleton, the ongoing investigation, and the fact that they were trying to find
Angelo.
    Edoardo was quiet for a while. His
sharp-featured face, the piercing dark eyes, and the short neatly trimmed beard
gave him a serious, almost solemn expression.
    “I called Tina,” Luisa said,
referring to their friend in the Piedmont. “She knows where Bardonico is but
doesn’t know anybody there.”
    “Well, it’s something,” Sofia
said. “I could drive there and perhaps I can find out something from the police
or someone in a store?”
    Edoardo was looking doubtful.
“Well, that might be quite difficult. A name of a person from years ago, this
is all you have?”
    “I also have a photo of Angelo, of
course an old one from twenty years ago.” Sofia realized how vague this all
sounded. “At least, I can try. Probably nothing will come of it, but I wouldn’t
mind visiting the Piedmont. It must be beautiful, and I’ve never been there.”
    “The one thing I don’t understand.
Why did Angelo come to Italy?” Edoardo asked.
    “Well, Martin and Angelo’s family
was originally from the Piedmont. Their mother brought them to the United
States when they were still boys. From what the Segantino family in New York
told us, there was an old friend of Angelo and Martin’s father still around.
Besides, Angelo was hiding from someone in the United States. Perhaps he felt
he would be safer in Italy.” Sofia lifted her hands and sighed. “We don’t
really know.”
    “And you do not know if Angelo
killed his friend, the one whose bones you found?” Gina asked.
    “We don’t believe he did. The
diary his wife wrote showed that he and his friend were working for a man and
it sounded like it was some kind of illegal work. She mentioned that Angelo and
Fred witnessed a crime.”
    “Then why didn’t they go to the
police?” Edoardo asked.
    “Most likely because the work they
did for their boss was illegal and the killer was a powerful man. The police
wouldn’t have believed them.”
    Edoardo shook his head. “This
sounds more like Italy and its problems with corruption.”
    “I guess it happens everywhere,”
Sofia said. “Anyway, Martin is convinced that Angelo isn’t a killer.”
    Edoardo gave a quick smile. “Your
grandfather may not believe his younger brother killed someone, but he is not
exactly an impartial judge. He is family, after all.”
    Sofia nodded. Edoardo had
experienced his own misguided partiality. A few years ago he misjudged a member
of his own family, who brought death and heartache and almost severed the bonds
that held the family together.
    “Angelo may be innocent and simply
afraid of someone,” Edoardo continued. “But as long as you do not know for
sure, then whatever you plan to do, be very careful.”
     

PART THREE: SLEUTHING IN THE
PIEDMONT
     

Chapter 15
     
    Sofia eased her car onto the freeway from Florence to
Bologna on her journey north toward the Piedmont and the Italian-French border.
She took a deep breath and tried to relax her tense shoulders somewhat. Sofia
was used to the multilane freeways in California, but here she felt insecure in
the jungle of signs, the fast-driving Italian cars, and the seemingly
never-ending construction sites.
    No more gentle hills and fields
with colorful wildflowers. Ugly industrial compounds replaced the farms,
vineyards, and olive groves.
    Another new challenge was the
constant toll stations on the freeways and the numerous gates. The first time
she approached one, she had no idea which gate to drive through and just
followed a line of cars. By accident, it was the right one. There was a
serious-looking but polite woman pointing at a box with a slit. Sofia pushed
her credit card in, hoping it would work.