wiggled her fingers. “Want to see me twirl before we leave?”
The man holding the girl’s hand spun her like a jewel-box ballerina. Around and around and around.
Octavia regarded him. “Is she your grandchild, Luigi?”
Luigi nodded. “She’s my youngest daughter’s child.”
If Octavia hadn’t said Luigi’s name, I almost wouldn’t have recognized him. Luigi Bozzuto, the restaurateur who owned La Bella Ristorante and was dating Delilah, was usually devilishly handsome, but he looked worse for wear, as if he had run a hundred miles without drinking a sip of water. Bags folded beneath his aging eyes. His skin sagged with fatigue.
“What a pistol,” Octavia said. “Why haven’t I seen her in here before?”
“They’re visiting from Wellington.”
“One of my favorite libraries is in Wellington.” Octavia bent at the waist to speak directly to the little girl. “Do you go to the library near your home? Do you love to read?”
“Yep. Watch me pirouette by myself.” The girl released Luigi’s hand and did another spin, arms wide, chin upturned.
“Oh, yeah, she’s a pistol.” Octavia rose to her full height and squeezed Luigi’s arm. “Hope you can keep up.”
“I can as long as I don’t drink shots. I feel like somebody slipped me a Mickey Finn.” He chuckled. “I’m getting old.”
That explained his dreary look. I had rarely known Luigi to have more than one glass of wine. His daughter was a flibbertigibbet who could bend an ear. Perhaps entertaining her and her family had driven him to over-imbibe.
As Luigi ushered his granddaughter out, I couldn’t help but wonder what Delilah was thinking by dating him. He was old enough to be her father. Actually, he was older than her father, Pops, who was a prime force at the Country Kitchen. Sure, Luigi was charming and a talented restaurateur, but he was too old for someone as vibrant as Delilah. On the other hand, could I wish her spinsterhood? Since returning to town, defeated by the fickleness of Broadway, Delilah hadn’t found anyone to date in Providence. Urso, the first love of her life, was captivated by Jacky. I didn’t want Delilah moving away because she was forlorn.
“Charlotte, follow me.” Octavia guided me to the added-on sunroom at the rear of the library. Sun had broken through the clouds outside and, despite the cool weather, warmed the room via solar panels.
Octavia indicated a teensy stool beside a squat table. Readers occupied all the comfy chairs nestled beside the windows. I sat first, feeling a bit like Gulliver in the land of Lilliputians.
“What do you want to ask me?” Octavia said.
I told her about Rebecca’s belief that Barton Burrell might have killed Kaitlyn. “She thinks he’s lying about his alibi. She’s certain there’s something more to his business deal with Kaitlyn. Did you broker the sale?”
“I did.”
“Did he want to cancel the deal?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca was on the right track. I said, “And did he?”
“He couldn’t.” Octavia set her turban on the table and took a considerable amount of time twisting it until the feather was flopping away from her.
“Because Kaitlyn had a clause that favored her, is that right?”
Octavia cocked her thumb and forefinger at me like a gun. “Good guess.”
It wasn’t actually a guess. Our contract with the former owner of our building contained a similar clause.
“The contract was rock solid,” Octavia said. “That CFO of Clydesdale Enterprises made us go over it line by line. Everything was in order. All the inspections were done and completed to Clydesdale Enterprises’ satisfaction. Barton could not back out.”
“Not even if he paid a penalty?”
She shook her head. “The only one who could alter the scenario was Kaitlyn.”
“Why did Barton change his mind about selling? I’m guessing that he needs the money. He’s been doing odd jobs at Lavender and Lace.”
Octavia chewed the inside of her lip, obviously reluctant
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