Page 7 of The Unraveling of Julia

“The villa is in Chianti, and the property is twenty hectares, about forty acres.”

“Fortyacres?” Julia asked, trying to get a grip. “Plus I thought Chianti was a wine.”

“Chianti is a province in Tuscany, outside Florence. Sangiovese grapes are grown in Chianti province. Authentic Chianti can be made only there. My wife is Tuscan.” Lombardi’s voice warmed. “Tuscany is very beautiful, and we go often.”

“I can’t believe this.” Julia shook her head, unable to process it fast enough.

“Should you wish to sell the villa, I can engage a realtor for you. He can ascertain the value of the property better than I.”

“And I get a houseon top ofthe money?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Holy shit!” Julia blurted out, dumbfounded. It was an enormous inheritance, if a total mystery. “But I don’t know Emilia Rossi.”

“I could also assist you to investigate your familial connection to her. I have a family investigator I use. I can include him in our meeting, if you wish.”

“I wish!” Julia felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of learningabout her biological parents made her heart race. She’d wondered about them her whole life.

“Ms. Pritzker, I must go now. Please let me know when you wish to visit. I’m available this week but not the next few.”

“Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure. Good evening.”

“Goodbye.” Julia pressed End in a sort of shock. She found herself rising and looking out the window. Sunlight flooded through the glass, so bright she couldn’t see outside. She stared into the light, trying to get through her head what had just happened. She was inheriting millions of dollars, a villa, and land from a stranger who might be a blood relative.

Her horoscope said her luck would change today, and it was rightagain.

Still, for a lead in Mike’s case, she would’ve given all the money in the world.

6

Courtney, hi!” Julia opened the door in the entrance hall, and Courtney rushed in, bear-hugging her.

“Jules, you’re amillionaire!”

“Can you believe it?” Julia hugged her back, still incredulous. She’d tried for days to absorb the news, but her thoughts kept returning to Mike. How she wished it were a break in his case. How he deserved to share her luck. How happy he would have been, should have been, deserved to be.

“Is this real life?” Courtney released her, alive with animation. Her hair was in its ponytail, and she looked classy in a tan linen pantsuit with a white silk camisole and nice flats. She’d been at a sales conference in New Jersey and had come over to celebrate. “Let’s go out! You’re buying dinner!”

Julia stiffened. They hadn’t talked about going out. She thought they’d eat in. “I made us salads. Arugula, feta, orange slices, and walnuts, like you like.”

“Are you crazy?” Courtney rolled her eyes. “We’redrinkingdinner! Champs!Chianti! Both!”

“But it’s late.”

Courtney snorted. “It’s nine o’clock!”

“I’m not dressed.” Julia had on a white cotton sweater, yoga pants, and Birks.

“You look fine! We’re going out.” Courtney grabbed her arm, but Julia pulled away, eyeing her street through the window in the outer door. It was dark, the only light from a fixture with a dim bulb. Mike had been killed five blocks away. She flashed on that night. The man in the hoodie. The big knife. The blood. Mike’s eyes, staring heavenward.

Julia’s mouth went dry. “Let’s stay in.”

“All right.” Courtney smiled begrudgingly. “But you better have wine.”

Julia sipped the wine, a fruity Vermentino, which relaxed her. They’d finished their salads, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and shared a container of Cherry Garcia. They played Stephen Sondheim’sInto the WoodsandSunday in the Park with George, since they were theater nerds. Night had fallen outside the window.

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