Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.

Chapter 19

Harry the Hammer…

My mouth opened and closed twice, but I couldn't think of one single thing to say. My brain tried to wrap around Seppe's words, but I couldn't make sense of it. I thought of Vinnie and the bonds office, but couldn't think of even a tiny reason for Harry to want to mess with my life. Surely he wouldn't hold a grudge because I didn't report Vinnie's extracurricular activities.

Ranger leaned forward, arms on the table now, and said, "The name Costa should have tipped me off, but I didn't know his first name was Orlando." A heavy admission for Ranger since he knew a lot about everyone.

Seppe waved a hand in the air as if to wave away Ranger's comment. "I am the only one who calls him Orlando. He hates it. I use it to remind him who I am and that I can. The name has been passed down for a few generations. But Harry has always been Harry … except to me."

"Why Harry?" Ranger asked.

Seppe shrugged. "His middle name is Harold."

My brain finally recovered and I asked, "Why would Harry do something like this to me? What did I ever do to him?"

Ranger nodded. "Good question, babe. He was never on my suspect list. Never would have put him there. No apparent motive, no indication of trouble."

My head was shaking 'no' before Seppe had finished speaking. "It doesn't make sense." Then I had a strange thought. "Could he have done this to protect me from something?" I didn't know why Harry would want to protect me, either, but it made more sense than him deliberately ruining my life just for—for what?

Ranger cocked his head to the side, eyes fixed on me. "It doesn't appear to make sense. You know as well as I that people have their own reasoning, it doesn't have to make sense to us." He turned to Seppe. "Any theories?"

Seppe stood and we followed suit. Clearly the meal was over. "I have no answers, but I will give you the story." He walked back to his study and we followed, taking our original positions on the love seat while Seppe leaned against the front of his desk.

"Orlando brought her here. Said she was the daughter of a close friend of his who recently died and she was alone, no famiglia left. Mario and Teo were working on a big research project together, something to do with Mario's work at the University of Tor Vergata here in Rome. The gentlemen had borrowed Orlando's private plane to travel for research."

"How did they know, uh, Orlando?" I asked.

"He was funding the project, apparently. He is very interested in science, always has been." Science? "They were doing genetics research. I don't know much more about it."

"Were they colleagues?" Ranger asked.

"No. Camila told me Teo was his research assistant, and also a student at the university. A couple of years younger than her. For years she'd been afraid to go outside, stayed in the home. Teo was always around working with her father. The romance blossomed from that. Apparently, Mario approved of the match, felt it would help her."

I nodded. "Right, I remember Camila thinking about something terrible that happened to her mother." I tried to recall the details. "She was attacked and killed, but she hadn't thought of the details."

Seppe nodded. "Yes. A robbery gone wrong."

I sat back, thinking. Were these stories invented just for the sake of setting up cover for Camila or had this stuff really happened to someone?

Seppe continued his tale. "When the plane crashed, Orlando felt responsible—it was his plane. He wanted to take care of Camila, but she refused to get on a plane to America. She was Italian, didn't want to leave her country and was afraid of airplanes. Didn't want to leave her home, either, but she had no choice." His eyes grew soft for a second as they traveled over my face. "When he brought her to me, I realized she needed protection. She was broken, afraid … timid. Very jumpy."

It didn't sound like me at all, but it did seem vaguely familiar. The fear. I'd felt it even in my dreams.

"The crash was in the beginning of October, a month before he brought her here. Orlando said she was diagnosed with a brain tumor within days of their deaths and had immediate treatment at his insistence. When she came to me, her hair was gone; shaved from the operation to remove the tumor."

"Brain tumor?" Ranger asked, then looked at me.

I smacked my forehead. "I forgot. Camila thought about it in my first dream, but I woke and didn't remember who you were. By the time I did, I was more concerned with what happened as opposed to all of her thoughts. It completely slipped my mind."

Ranger's brows lowered and looked at Seppe. "Was it cancer? Should she be under a doctor's care?"

Seppe shook his head. "No. Orlando said the tumor was removed because it affected her memories and she had mood swings. She'd forgotten most of her childhood already. As far as I know she was finished with treatment."

I held my hands up, palms out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you saying this brain tumor thing is real? I thought—" Holy shit. All the headaches I kept getting. I'd attributed them to my brain confusion thing. What if the brain confusion thing was because of the tumor? I looked at Ranger and he gave me a slight nod. We'd investigate all possibilities. I wanted to talk to Walker right away.

"It is real. You were very tired from your medical treatment when you came to live here."

My shoulders slumped and I crossed my arms, thinking. Even if I had a tumor, it didn't explain the strange reaction to the beeping in the airport and from Marco's phone, did it? Now I really wished Walker had come with us.

"She came in the beginning of November?" Ranger asked.

Seppe slid his hands into his pockets, a distant look on his face. He was reminiscing. "Yes, the second. I remember the date because I hosted a large family dinner a few days later and she met Adriano at that time." His face twisted into anger. "He is my nephew." Which we had already learned. "I invited him with the express purpose of introducing him to Camila." He looked at me apologetically. "I thought having a friend her age, someone I trusted, would be good for her."

"They began dating after the family dinner?" I asked.

Seppe nodded. "Adriano was quite taken with her. I readily gave him permission. She agreed and I was very happy for both of them."

He shoved himself away from the desk and began to pace in front of the fireplace, an act he most likely did often. "He was unattached and I always thought he was a good boy. Maybe something would come of it, especially with the bambino on the way."

Someone sighed. I realized it was me and shook my head again. "Seppe, can I ask you about that? About Adriano, I mean?"

He nodded with a wary look.

"It was clear in my dreams, and in how you've spoken of her today, that you were quite fond of, uh, Camila." It was starting to feel weird speaking about myself in the third person and at the same time not really speaking about myself at all. I was starting to feel like I had split personalities.

"Yes." He walked over and stood in front of me. "You want to know why I pushed for the relationship with Adriano."

I nodded. "I'm trying to understand why she gave in so easily."

Seppe nodded and crossed his arms. "I cannot express how much I regret my ignorance, Cam—Stephanie. I pushed her toward him. I thought if she did more normal things, it meant she was healing. Getting married, having a family. It is what a woman does. To a man like me, it wasn't right for her to remain single and pregnant. She needed a husband to support her, help her. The marriage felt right and, ashamedly, I did not ask if it was what she wanted. If I had, this never would have happened."

I could see he completely blamed himself for the situation with Adriano. Maybe he had pushed, but Camila hadn't trusted his love enough to be honest. "Seppe, it's my understanding that Camila didn't open up to you and tell you how things really were."

"No, she did not. I think, and I feel I knew her well after spending every day with her for that two months, that she was afraid I would be disappointed." He shook his head and scowled. "It is not a good feeling to know she was more willing to live the way she did than to tell me the truth."

We were both silent for a moment. Ranger, of course, was always silent when he didn't have anything to say. I just had no response because I couldn't understand the things that motivated Camila. Well, most of them. I was beginning to understand her love for Carlo, but I still couldn't relate. She knew him and I didn't.

Seppe smiled sadly. "I should have let her explore the friendship with Luca." Ranger sat back and crossed his arms, body stiff.

"You knew she was close to Luca?"

"Yes. I am not blind." He walked back to his desk and leaned against it. "I also suspected early on that Adriano was jealous of him. He asked often to remove him as her bodyguard, but I couldn't. She felt safe with him and that was important to me."

"Luca was my—her bodyguard?"

"I assigned him there. Do you want to talk to him?"

Ranger answered. "We'll handle that, with your permission."

"Of course," Seppe said and then returned to the story. "Adriano's jealousy prodded him to push for a fast wedding. I agreed. I thought it best to get her settled in with him before the child arrived. If I had asked him to wait, things would have been different. I didn't know Luca or if he could be trusted. Adriano was the safe choice in my mind."

"You wanted to protect her," I said.

Seppe nodded. "Very much so, but it was a serious error in judgment. You cannot know how terrible I felt when I found out how he treated her."

"You put out a hit on him," Ranger said.

Seppe eyed him thoughtfully. "You have done your homework."

Ranger nodded. "But you haven't been able to find him."

Seppe's handsome face twisted into a vicious scowl and he stopped pacing. "That suino. We hunt him every day, every night. He is out there and we will get him."

The conversation had taken a downturn, so I sat straighter and changed course. "Adriano aside," I said. After all, we didn't know if he would bother with me again now that I wasn't Camila. We didn't know anything about his motivations, either. "What bothers me now is what's to stop Harry from doing this again, or worse, if I go home?"

"Me," Seppe said slightly relieved at the change in topic. "He will never bother you again. I owe you that much for all the trouble I caused."

"We still need to know why," Ranger said in a quiet voice. I felt it: his anger. You couldn't tell by looking at his face, but it radiated out from him.

"Of course." Seppe pulled a thin wallet from his breast pocket and opened it, pulling out two business cards. He handed one to each of us. They were plain white, thick linen cards with Seppe's name, Giuseppe Marotta, on the front in large, bold block letters. On the center in the back, a phrase was written in Italian. The script was small and black, bold, yet decorative. It read: Water the flowers.

Immediately I thought of Grandma Mazur. When I was a girl, I always helped her take care of the freesias she grew in the flower beds in front of her house.

"Flowers are like people. They need love and care to flourish. If you see a thirsty plant, Stephanie, water it. Just like you should help out a person in need. All it takes is a little water to make their beauty flourish."

Seppe's card made perfect sense to me, so I smiled when he said, "My people help, no questions asked, if they see this card. All of my people."

Ranger stood and I followed suit. The men shook hands. "Appreciate it," Ranger said. "I'll make sure you know everything we find out."

"Make no mistake, signore Mañoso. I will be involved when it comes to Orlando. Harry. Whatever you want to call him. That is my business." He studied Ranger's hard eyes for a second. "Perhaps our business."

"Agreed," Ranger said.

There was something else I wanted to know. "You were told Camila died?" I asked.

"Adriano tried to kill her, but Luca intervened. She was in a coma for a week." Seppe walked around his desk to sit in his chair looking a little weary. "Orlando said he found a specialist in America who could help her. I didn't question it. He was so protective of her that it never crossed my mind to suspect him of anything. He told me a week later that she died from her injuries." It made sense for him not to have questioned Harry. Why would he suspect foul play? I wouldn't have. I hadn't, not until I found out he was involved, that is.

"We have one more question, if you don't mind?" Ranger asked.

"Of course, what is it?"

"The explosion. Is it possible the baby wasn't inside?"

Seppe looked troubled. "Signore, I am sorry. If I had it in my power to give you hope, I would do it. The bomb was in the nursery, there were no remains to recover. The mailman reported handing his nanny, Maria, a package a few minutes before the explosion so we know they were at home." He looked directly at me and said, "We placed a memorial for Carlo and Camila in the cemetery. Would you like to see them?"

I looked at Ranger and he nodded. "Please," I said. Seppe indicated for us to follow him and we did. I thought it was ironic that I was returning to the first scene I'd dreamed about, only for a different headstone.

As we headed out the back of the house, I said, "In my dream, you had placed memorials out here for my father and fiancé. Is there any way to find out who these two men really were?"

"We ask Orlando. But I do not think it matters." Seppe pressed a loose fist to his chin, the index finger covering his lower lip, then pointed at me. "My gut says everything centers on you and these men were unimportant."

Unless those men were people someone missed. People who had wives or lovers or families who are mourning them. What about those people?

"I agree," Ranger said.

When we got to the correct spot, I looked at the obelisk with Camila's name on it. Her death date was July 22nd. The day before I woke up in Paris. I shook my head. I supposed if I was going to wake up as Stephanie Plum, if that was the plan, then Camila would have to be dead. It made sense in that regard.

Ranger pointed to the date, noting the significance, and I nodded. Then he stepped over to a little obelisk, a duplicate of Camila's only much smaller. I took the three steps necessary to join him and looked at the inscription. His full name was Giancarlo Teodoro Paroni, named after the man Camila had thought was his father. His birthday was April 10th, two days before the photo was taken of me leaving the hospital with him. His date of death was listed as June 12th. Two months old. It wasn't fair.

Pain sliced through my heart and I clutched Ranger's arm. Finding out he was really gone filled me with a despair I couldn't explain. I hadn't realized I'd hoped he was alive until that moment.

Ranger wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight while I wept. When I finally had myself under control, we rejoined Seppe in the house—I hadn't heard him leave, but clearly he'd wanted to give us privacy. We thanked him before returning to the rental car with a promise to contact him when we were ready to leave Italy and return to Trenton.

I finally got myself mopped up from crying after we left and said a husky, "Sorry."

"Why?"

"I lost it."

"So did I." My jaw dropped and I threw him a 'yeah right' look. "Babe, just because my tears aren't visible doesn't mean I don't bleed. It hurts to see a headstone for my son. Just like it hurts to see you in pain."

"Okay," I said. Truthfully, I hadn't expected him to have any type of connection to Carlo. The dreams had given that to me, but it wasn't fair to assume he didn't have feelings for his own kid.

"Ask Marco if he knows who treated Camila, I'll check with a contact to see if he can dig anything up on that."

"Okay."

We were silent for the rest of the trip, the melancholy end to our afternoon hung over our heads like a dark cloud.

…

I paced back and forth in front of the door in Walker's room. "I don't like this."

Ranger and I had returned to the hotel with enough time to kiss goodbye and then I headed straight to Walker's room.

"It'll be okay. He knows what happened now. I think his attitude will be much improved from this morning."

"That's not what I mean. I don't like meeting this way, excluding Ranger."

"He asked for it."

I sighed. "I know, but it still feels … wrong somehow."

Walker came over to stand in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Are you worried he'll want to rekindle a romance with Camila?"

Just thinking about it all made my head hurt. "I don't know what I'm worried about. No, that's not it. I'm not worried. I'm frustrated. I shouldn't have to deal with this."

"It happened and, fair or not, you've got to deal with it." He removed his hands from my shoulders and turned to sit on the couch.

"Stop shrinking me, Walker. Save it for when Marco gets here."

He smiled and leaned forward. "Marco's not going to like me administering the drug to you."

"Not his business." Why would he care anyway?

Walker answered my unspoken question. "He's the type of man who thinks a woman needs to be saved."

I sat down and crossed and uncrossed my ankles. "Do you think I need to be saved?"

Walker leaned back and looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you?" He was shrinking me again, but I let it slide.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Sure, Ranger saves my ass a lot. I get into a lot of trouble, but I'm independent. I certainly don't expect him to do it." I was glad when he did when I got over my head.

"Why do you think he came here?"

"He came because he needed to see me. I was dead, and then suddenly I wasn't."

"And?"

"I asked him to come."

He crossed his arms. "Because you wanted him to save the day?"

"Maybe. Yes—no. Not to save the day. Certainly I wanted him to get my passport issue fixed, but that was a reasonable thing to expect. I just needed him near me."

"You're part of each other. It's not a weakness to need each other."

I thought about it. Okay, yeah, if the big bad monster came to kill me, Ranger's muscles would come in handy. But it wasn't why I wanted him here. I just needed him. The love part. The comfort. The strength he brought to me and accepted from me.

"I think you do a lot of saving yourself. Look at Camila. Even then, you fought."

I snorted. "Right. And I walked my meek ass around his house and did everything he asked. No complaints."

Walker shook his head. "But that's not like Stephanie Plum. Camila did everything she thought was right to protect her child. That's what a mother does."

The knock on the door made me jump. "Damn, I'm not ready for this." I got up and walked slowly to the door, checking the peep hole. On the other side, Marco looked up and down the hallway and then at the peep hole. I opened the door and gave him a tight smile. "Come on in."

He walked, hands in his pockets, looking completely out of place. At least we felt the same in that regard. "Thank you for allowing me to help."

I nodded. I wasn't ready to make nice with him. Not just yet. "Have a seat." I gestured toward the other chair with my hand and he walked over and sat down. I took the other chair and we both looked at Walker. It was show time.