Under the Sicilian Sky by Alexia Adams

Author:Alexia Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Romance
Published: 2017-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“You sure about this?” Cristo asked as they parked near the dock. “It’s still the same crowd, and to them you’re guilty, evidence or not. I’ve no idea what you hope to gain by coming here.”

“I’m hoping to trigger a memory, anything to help me figure out what happened to me. I remember going to sleep next to Bella on our second wedding anniversary and then waking in a Tunisian hospital. One entire week of my life is a complete mystery.” The band of tension around his chest tightened.

Cristo nodded but pointed at their suits. “We should have come after visiting the questore. We’re going to stand out like a calamari in a boatload of sardines.”

“I know, but I want to give this a shot before we see the police. I won’t be able to refute what they’re saying if I don’t know what happened.” Matteo got out of Cristo’s BMW SUV and took a deep breath of the salty sea air. And coughed. The air smelled so bad he could taste it, like rotting fish served with diesel sauce. But it triggered no memories. As a farmer, he hadn’t spent a lot of time at the local docks. Now he remembered why.

Most of the boats were out fishing; only a few remained in port. As they walked to the end of the battered concrete pier, several men came and stood on their boat decks, fierce scowls on their faces, their arms crossed and legs spread. Definitely not the type of guys you’d ask questions.

Bang! A rifle blast filled the air. Matteo stopped and glanced over at Cristo, who also froze. “You okay?” he asked.

“So far. We done here?”

“Yeah, I got nothing.” Not even the gunshot had triggered a memory. No way in hell would he risk another crack to his skull. The missing week might remain a mystery forever.

He and Cristo slowly turned to find three men blocking their way back to land. One was holding a recently fired shotgun.

Cristo looked significantly at Matteo’s clenched fists. “No fighting. I do not want to get blood on my new Savile Row suit,” he said from the corner of his mouth.

“We’re not here for trouble,” Matteo began. “Just looking for some information.”

“You’re not welcome here, Vanni,” one of the men said. “And if your pretty little wife wants to keep her businesses running, you’d better not come back.”

Matteo opened his mouth, but Cristo grabbed his arm, hard, before he could respond to the threat. “Leave it,” Cristo whispered. “Retaliating is only going to make things worse for you and Bella. That’s the questore’s nephew. You can bet he’ll be on the phone in a second if you make any threats.”

Merda. Backing down went against every fiber of his being, but fine. He wouldn’t punch that asshole into next week—this time.

“I didn’t kill those men.” Matteo caught the leader’s gaze and refused to blink. “They were my friends. I want justice as much as you do.”

The fishermen didn’t look convinced, but one of them moved slightly so he and Cristo could pass.

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