Page 59 of The Unraveling of Julia

“What?”

“I have to go, bye.” Julia hung up and raced to the vineyard.

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Julia hurried to Anna Mattia and Piero, standing with Bianco, in the vineyard. Piero had been digging for some time, and perspiration dotted his lined brow and shirt. His wispy white hair blew in the breeze like filaments on dandelion seeds.

Julia touched Anna Mattia’s arm. “I think he should stop what he’s doing and look around for any bones that might be buried, like a skeleton or a body—”

Anna Mattia recoiled, crossing herself.

“I know, but we have to admit it’s possible.” Julia couldn’t leave a stone unturned, literally. “If we don’t investigate here, no one else will. The police aren’t going to do it, you heard. I want to know and I’m not going to wait.”Caterina wouldn’t, she thought but didn’t say. “This is my villa, and it could be my family. I want to get to the bottom of what went on here. I want the truth.”

Anna Mattia bit her lip. “Okay.”

“Maybe you can start searching for cracks inside. I have to get ready to meet the investigator.”

“When you want Piero take you?”

“He should keep digging. I can drive myself but I need a car.”

“Signora ’ave.” Anna Mattia blinked. “Shelove’er car. She love drive.”

“Really?” Julia asked, surprised. “I thought she never went anywhere.”

“No, she never go intown.”

“So where did she go?”

Anna Mattia shrugged. “She drive at night.”

What?“Was this before she got sick?”

“Yes.”

“Why did she drive around?”

Anna Mattia shrugged again.

“Did she drive around in the daytime?”

“No.”

Whoa.Julia felt her stomach turn over. “Anna Mattia, isn’t it strange that she drove around, only at night? What if she was up to no good?”

Anna Mattia grimaced.

“Show me the car.”

Julia followed Piero and Anna Mattia into an open bay under the carriage house, encompassing much of its ground floor. He flicked on the lights, a line of bare bulbs that illuminated the stone walls and a floor of dirt, stone, and gravel. The wooden frames of two old horse stalls were affixed to the wall by rough-hewn nails, and a stone trough ran along one wall.

Piero and Anna Mattia’s red Fiat Panda was parked on one side, and on the other was a car covered by a beige tarp, which rested on thick rubber mats. He took the cover off with care, revealing a sleek black sedan with two doors. Its side had a yellow plaque with a black prancing horse, which Julia recognized from the racetrack at Imola.

“Is that aFerrari?” she asked, surprised.

Piero’s eyes lit up. “Sì, Ferrari FF.Bellissimo, no?”

“Rossi had a Ferrari? Why?”

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