Page 113 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
Percy placed her coffee down on the table and took a seat. “Then she’s about to be a slut with a dead fiancé. Have some sympathy.”
Taking the cup in hand, she quirked a brow at him. “Any chance you could kill her, too?”
Percy was glad he hadn’t murdered Maria. “No. I don’t hold it against her for having bad taste in men.”
Maria felt the double-bladed comment and gave in with a sigh. “Let me get his photo.”
Another ten minutes was spent on Percy studying theimages she provided, storing away all the places he was most likely to find his new victim, all while making himself as likeable as possible, so she wouldn’t point the finger at him later.
When he was done, and she had kissed him on the cheek and told him what a good man he was, he ran double speed down the stairs.
The whole expedition had taken almost half an hour, and Joe was going to be furious.
Again.
Joe’s descriptions of the daily life of an Italian priest, given to a man who clearly wouldn’t have joined the Church if his life depended on it, soon fell flat, and Joe quickly surmised there had never been any real interest behind Leo’s question. He was running distraction, and he was doing a very poor job of it. He had been doing a very poor job of it for almost half an hour, and the back of Joe’s mind was fully occupied considering the thousands of things Percy might be doing, but it always came back to the same fear.
Giordano.
It must have been Giordano.
But Percy would never do that. Why would he do that? They’d only managed to crawl out of bed from their last tryst a few hours earlier. Surely he was satisfied? But maybe it was different with Giordano. And Percy loved sex. Joe was sure he loved sex more than most people, but then he had no real measure for that. Only that Percy always wanted sex. Only that Percy was basically walking sex. Only that, everywhere they went together, there seemed to be someone Percy had either slept with or was thinking about sleeping with.
And then all that talk at the beach about the possibility of both of them sleeping with Giordano. And, arguably, Percy’s moral compass did spin a little wildly at times. Maybe this sort of thing just wasn’t such a big deal to him? Maybe he didn’t even realise what a big deal it was to Joe that it should be just the two of them together and no Giordano. And no anyone else.
But he thought he had made it clear. But Percy never did answer any questions about the keys. He only made Joe forget about it by talking about sex and books. Was that deliberate?
No. None of it made sense. He would simply ask Percy about it when he returned. There was bound to be a good reason for everything.
And Joe watched the clock as, second by second, a feeling of hurt overtook the feeling of anger. He would have preferred to feel the latter.
“That was some shit, Percy,” Leo said helpfully as the man himself walked in the door.
Percy stopped in the middle of the tiny cafe full of quiet people, and shot a particularly vile look at Leo, who responded with a goading grin. “Feeling better now?”
“So much better,” Percy muttered, lighting a cigarette, ordering an espresso, and sparing a conciliatory half smile for Joe. “Must have been something I ate.”
“I’m pretty sure I ate all the same things you did,” Joe said.
“Not all the same things.” It was quiet and suggestive and might have amused Joe if he hadn’t been thinking obsessively about Giordano.
“Where did you go?”
“Public lavatory. Six blocks away. It was horrible, and I suggest we all go to Mondello in a minute.”
“Let’s do that,” Leo agreed eagerly. Too eagerly, all but jumping off his stool, but unable to answer Althea’s questionsabout what exactly Mondello was or why they needed to go there.
“I’m fine here,” said Joe, a tense challenge in his tone and unmoving frame.
“Yes, but the restaurant…” Percy trailed off into an odd silence, capturing Joe’s attention. He passed a hand to his stomach, with a few creases lining his handsome brow. He held up a finger, as though he needed a moment, then dashed from the cafe, letting the door slam closed behind him. Joe was fast in pursuit, faster than the other two, particularly since Joe didn’t notice Leo stalling Althea, and therefore it was Joe who discovered Percy, doubled over against a wall, throwing up.
“Percy!” He dashed to his side.
“No, I’m fine—” and another foul splatter hit the pavement.
Joe’s immediate and crushing guilt could easily have sent his own half-digested caponata to the ground, but Percy interrupted with, “Don’t let them see.”
Joe ran a hand over Percy’s heaving back. “You need to go home.”
