“Aaah!” they both exclaimed, startled by the unexpected rendezvous.

“You scared me,” Janet admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Scusi,” Mario apologized, genuinely shaken. After the series of traumatic incidents he’d experienced months ago, the last thing he expected was to find Janet—or anyone else for that matter—at his front door.

“Whew,” Janet exhaled, catching her breath. “I was just coming over to check if everything was okay with the cottage.”

“Sì. Bella. Uh, yes, good. Would you like to come in for . . .” Mario gestured towards the kitchen. “Err, water, no gas.”

“The gas isn’t working?” Janet’s face fell, embarrassed that the stove wasn’t functioning. “I’ll get it fixed, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Scusi. I mean water, like from sink, with no . . .” He paused, searching for the right word. “No fizzy?”

Mario was struggling to find the term for noncarbonated water. He found it peculiar that in the United States people paid almost a dollar a bottle for something you could get from your tap. Rome boasted some of the finest drinking water in the world, and was fascinated that people would pay so much in the stores for a simple luxury that was readily available.

“Oh. Got it. Water. Yes, please.”

As they stepped inside the cottage, Janet noticed that nothing had really changed from when she had shown Mario the rental the day before.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” She settled herself before looking around the room. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Mario responded, his demeanor shifting into a comfortable mode. As a priest, he had often been the recipient of confessions, a trusted ear for those seeking solace. He found it intriguing that even in his civilian attire, people seemed drawn to him, ready to unburden their secrets. Janet, however, was unaware of his past vocation.

“What do you do?” Janet asked, her curiosity piqued by the wad of money she had seen through the window. Was he involved in the mafia? He seemed too awkward for that.

“I recently am fired from work,” he confessed, zipping his backpack closed. “I hope this will not be problem. I have plenty money to pay rent. Promise.”

“No, no. It’s not a problem. I didn’t mean to pry,” she quickly reassured him, feeling her awkwardness creeping in again. “You just seem . . . interesting. I want to know more about you.”

Mario was at a loss for how to explain his complex situation. His life was in turmoil, and he was not adept at deception—Roberto had reminded him of that fact often enough. Perhaps that was why he’d become a priest—he was incapable of lying and therefore people were drawn to him, eager to share their deepest secrets.

Roberto’s past wisdom came to Mario like a sage speaking from the beyond. She doesn’t want to know about you. She wants to tell you about herself. Trust me. She’s into you, Mario.

After a moment of awkward silence, Janet broke the tension. “I’m making snapper for dinner tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”

Mario felt a surge of validation—Roberto had been right! She was interested in him. “Yes, I would like that. Grazie.”

“Great. Dinner will be ready at eight o’clock. You don’t need to bring anything. I’ll take care of it all.”

“Grazie.” Mario smiled, a warm feeling spreading through him. Janet’s interest in him stirred up emotions he’d never experienced before. As a priest, he had taken a vow of celibacy for life, but the Vatican’s attempt on his life had changed everything.

Feeling this desire for another person made him realize why Roberto had always made such a big fuss about it. Mario had never felt this way before. It felt . . . nice.

Chapter 88

May 10, 2000

Wednesday, 6:35 p.m.

Naples, Florida

Mario found himself nestled in the bustling heart of Kinko’s, a copy center sporting an abundance of technology amidst the otherwise quaint town of Naples. Huddled at a computer station, his fingers danced over the keys, navigating to the search engine Roberto had sworn by. His search on dogpile.com was precise, just a name and a location: “Trevor Muldoon, Naples, Florida.”

Trevor Muldoon, the acclaimed author, will be our honored guest for the AOL Chatroom interview series on the evening of Monday, May 15th, 2000 at 7 p.m. EST.

The interview promises an intimate discussion where Mr. Muldoon will announce his latest World War II thriller. It is set to hit the shelves on June 6th.

The event will also feature a Q&A session with Mr. Muldoon fielding questions from the virtual audience. We encourage you to submit your questions early.

Mark your calendars. You don’t want to miss this exciting event.

A flash of opportunity ignited in Mario’s mind. The AOL Chatroom interview series was the perfect venue to reach out to Trevor. The Muldoons, ensconced in their gated community, were apparently notoriously difficult to access. Their community was a fortress, home to Naples’ wealthy elite who paid a premium to keep uninvited visitors at bay.

This online event, this virtual meeting could be Mario’s golden ticket. It was likely his best chance to persuade Trevor Muldoon to extend him an invitation to his residence for a private discussion.

Chapter 89

May 11, 2000

Thursday, 6:59 p.m.

Naples, Florida

Mario knocked on the back door of Janet’s house. Standing there and waiting, he heard the rhythmic pulse of Mr. Mister’s “Broken Wings” seeping through the door into the night air.

So take,

these broken wings,

and learn to fly again,

learn to live so free.

When we hear,

the voices sing,

the book of love will open up,

and let us in. . . .

“Mario, come in,” Janet beckoned, her voice a warm invitation as she opened the door to her dinner guest. “I was just about to slide the fish into the oven,” she said as she retreated into the kitchen. The mangrove snapper, a local delicacy, had been caught fresh in the Gulf of Mexico by the skilled hands of local fishermen. It would take a mere five minutes in her Breville toaster oven to transform it into a mouthwatering main course.

“Grazie. The smell is delicious.” Mario trailed after Janet into the kitchen. He found himself captivated by her graceful movements as she expertly prepared their meal. Her back to him as she worked the stove, he truly noticed her toned physique for the first time. She was a stunning woman who seemed to harbor a certain fondness for him. Roberto’s wise counsel from beyond echoed in his mind. Dude, she likes you.

“Would you mind uncorking the wine?” She glanced over her shoulder to find Mario appreciating her figure; his eyes were obviously fixed on her firm posterior.