Chapter 2

In which another case is unearthed and a life is ended before even beginning.

Seis Tomatos.

Seis Tomatos.

He'd asked someone on the train back to Paris what they thought it meant, and they said it meant "Six Tomatoes", though the six was in Spanish and the tomatoes were in Italian.

Why six tomatoes? Why not five, or seven? And tomatoes weren't even growing now, it was winter, the ground would be covered in snow, unless it was a hot region.

Maybe it wasn't about the number of tomatoes. Maybe it was just pointing out the number six and tomatoes. They were related, but not together. Tomatoes, tomatoes…

His mind immediately went to the tomato farm his friend Antonio worked at. Ah, yes, but it would be more than working there now, wouldn't it, Antonio? Francis grinned. Ever since that case in Sicily, it was clear that the daughter of the tomato farm's owner and Antonio would be getting much closer than employee and boss…

Funny enough, weren't there six murders in the case in Sicily? Each one a man that had set his sights on the farm's owner's daughter, Romana Vargas. All except Antonio, which became obvious enough with time. Yes, six murders on a tomato farm.

Some had blamed the mafia, but Francis knew better. They weren't the mafia's style, and they were far too randomly spaced. He'd searched for clues in vain until giving up on that and deciding to pursue the young lady while Elisabeta distracted her current suitor.

That was when he learned the truth about the killer. But everything had worked out.

So, the six murders on the tomato farm. Perhaps they were connected with this next clue?

As soon as he arrived back in his beautiful city, he forced himself to leave again, catching a train to Rome, where he could easily find a boat to Sicily.

Well, the boat was easy to find. Easy to travel on, well, that was a little different.

There was a storm that hit the day after Francis boarded, so they were stuck in it for at least a week before they miraculously managed to land on the island Francis needed to be on. He literally ran off the boat and lost his lunch in a nearby bush.

It was time to find that tomato farm.

He still remembered the vague location, but it still took him three and a half days of asking random villagers on the road and people in inns if they'd heard of the Vargas farm. Most hadn't, but he was lucky enough to find a worker—obviously new, since Francis didn't know him—who took him there late at night after drinking in the inn with his friends from town.

"You here to see the daughter?" the man asked when Francis explained his mission. The Frenchman nodded, and the man gave a low whistle. "Man, good luck. That Spanish bastard's been courtin' her for months. It's disgustin', really. Gettin' her flowers and singin' and shit." He shivered. "There's no way you'll top it."

"I don't plan to. She simply has something I need."

The man grinned lecherously as he stumbled through the dark. "She's got somethin' we all need, my friend. But she ain't givin' it up."

Francis smiled serenely. "I think what I have in mind is a little different from you, but I must agree, she is very pretty. In fact, I think she may be the sister of a girl I met not too long ago."

"She has a sister? Damn! She good-lookin' too?"

"Well, she was before she was poisoned."

That made the man shut up.

By the time they got back, the sun had already risen a hand's width above the horizon. The man cursed at the sight of the farm and ran toward the wooden fence posts, where a small yet intimidating figure waited for him, holding a…rolling pin?

"Giuseppe! I didn't think you were going to show up for work today!" they yelled from afar. "Good thing I can always count on you, right?"

The man huffed and puffed up to the small figure while Francis trailed behind, content to observe. "I-I'm sorry, Miss Vargas, it's just I met this guy down at Gabriel's inn and he said he wanted to see you, and I tried to talk him out of it, bein' as you don't like to see strange men like him since they're always askin' for work, but I couldn't shake 'im off so I brought 'im with me. He's comin' up now." The man, apparently named Giuseppe, turned around and pointed at Francis, who was closing in on the fence, Giuseppe, and Romana Vargas.

She smacked Giuseppe on the arm with her rolling pin. "You idiot, that's a friend of mine from France. He solved a problem for us before you even showed up. Go get to work."

"Of course, Miss!" He saluted the young woman and ran off toward the fields.

Romana's glare stayed fixed on her face as she turned her gaze to Francis. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Bonnefois?"

Francis grinned. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

She rolled her eyes. "You look hungry. You haven't been eating enough, obviously. Come in, I'll put some food in you." She grabbed Francis and dragged him to the little house that was only about fifty yards away. "Where's that friend of yours, the pretty one? Eliza, or something?"

"Elisabeta has decided to stay in Austria-Hungary with her husband for the time being," Francis replied. "I'm on a case on my own this time."

"That's too bad. I liked her. She told me lots of things, useful things. Things I'm not repeating, so don't ask," she added sharply.

Once they were in the house, Romana shoved him into a chair and walked to a small stove covered in pots and pans. "You good with pasta with tomato sauce? It's what we've got."

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry—"

"Shut it. You're too skinny. I'm just putting some meat on your bones." She filled a clean plate with hot pasta and tomato sauce with huge chunks of the fruit, then poured a liberal serving of parmesan cheese on top. She handed it to him with a fork. "I expect you to clean that plate. Oh, and since you're obviously going to starve yourself again as soon as you leave, take a bushel of tomatoes. They're by the door. And eat them all."

"Yes, ma'am." He dug in. It was quite good, even though it had been forced on him. "Oh, by the way, do you have a sister?"

She brightened up. "You mean Felicia? You know her?"

Francis swallowed. "Yes, actually, she was working as a maid at Elisabeta's house."

"Really? How's she doing? Is she eating well enough?" Romana asked, firing the questions at him at top speed.

"Well, she was doing well, and it was her eating that actually caused, er…" God, this was the worst part of the job. This was literally the first time he'd seen Romana Vargas smile, ever, and now he was going to tell her that the sister she apparently adored had died because of him.

"Because of what? She's okay, isn't she?" Romana asked anxiously, her smile slipping.

Francis sighed. "She's dead."

Romana stopped. Her whole body seemed to just stop moving altogether, and it went very quiet in the room until she fell to her knees on the kitchen floor. "…Dead? What do you mean, dead? Feli can't die. Feli is Feli! She always runs from the danger, and it never catches her! What do you mean, dead?!" she screamed at Francis, fat tears welling up in her golden eyes.

"She was making pasta, and just before she served it, she took a taste, and someone had slipped a poison into it and she died. If it makes you feel any better, she wasn't supposed to die. It was supposed to be Elisabeta, or me. Not her." Francis looked down at the crushed girl.

"How is that supposed to make me feel better? You bastard! Feli is dead because of you? AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO JUST WALTZ IN HERE AND TELL ME?!"

"I…"

"Get out. Get out of my house." She pointed at the door. "Now."

"I understand that you're upset, but—"

"Upset? That is the understatement of the fucking year! Get out of my house before I call all my workers in to make you!"

Francis stood up. "Okay. I will leave. But there is something I need from you first."

"You aren't getting shit, you bastard." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Did you receive an orange hairpin recently? With a note?" Francis asked desperately.

Romana suddenly went very quiet. "How do you know about that?"

"I need that pin. I need it to save Elisabeta's life. Without it, she could get killed, gruesomely by what the person after her has done before."

"I…did get a pin. Yes. It came with a note on my name on it, and whoever wrote it…knew."

"Knew what?"

"None of your business!" she replied quickly. "I'll go get the damn thing." She left the kitchen for a moment, then reemerged holding the orange hairpin in both hands. "Here. Take it and go." She flung it at Francis, who caught it before it hit the ground.

It was exactly the same as the one that Lars Peeters had, except the flowers were a darker shade of orange. In fact, they were nearly red when you looked at them in a certain light…

Mesmerized as he was with the pin, Francis failed to notice the crazed blonde woman enter the kitchen until she was nearly upon him with a knife.

He helped and dodged her thrust just before it hit his heart. It glanced off his shoulder, ripping open his shirt but luckily not breaking any skin, and she spun back around to go at him again, but brave, angry, upset, stupid Romana had to shout, "Hey! Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my house?"

The woman turned to Romana slowly and smiled sweetly at her. "Oh, I'm Bella Peeters, and I'm here to kill everyone until I get my black pin. And that includes you, sweetheart." With a feral cry, she launched herself at Romana.

The girl barely blocked the knife with the rolling pin she had been carrying early. Barely. Bella just grinned maniacally and kicked Romana between the legs, causing her to wince and loosen her grip on the rolling pin. The Belgian woman laughed and knocked it away. Romana backed away quickly, but Bella lunged at her again, aiming for the stomach.

This time, she didn't miss.

The knife held fast in Romana's belly as the Sicilian girl sunk to the floor numbly. By then, Francis had gathered his wits and grabbed Bella in a headlock. She twisted and struggled, but Francis' adrenaline was pumping and he wouldn't let her go.

Suddenly, the door to the kitchen burst open. A sweaty and shirtless Antonio was holding it open, panting slightly. "What's going on? Romana?" He surveyed the scene and ran to the young girl immediately. "Romana!"

"I'm…fine, Antonio," she said slowly, panting at each ellipsis. "It's not even that deep, see?" She tugged the knife out slowly, wincing. "It…only went in an inch or two."

Antonio's large green eyes were full of worry. "No! We must get you to a doctor, or who knows what might happen?"

"Yes, that's all very well and good, but you'll have to get through me and this horrible woman here first," Francis said. Antonio spun around and caught sight of Francis.

"Francis? What are you doing here? Who is that?"

"She attacked Romana. Tell me, you wouldn't happen to have a black hairpin on you, would you?"

Antonio's eyes went dark, and it seemed he ignored everything after She attacked Romana. "She did this?"

"She's a serial killer from Belgium, out for Elisabeta's life. You remember Elisabeta. Brown hair, slept with the Portuguese man, you know Elisabeta."

"I'll kill the bitch!" Bella said cheerfully from the headlock. "You mark my words, I will! Don't try and stop me just 'cause you've got me, the Rose will get you for it and she'll make you pay!"

Antonio was very confused at this point. "And what was that about a hairpin?" he said finally.

"Give it to her, and then let her go. If we keep her she'll just cause more trouble. She'll go if she gets what she wants."

Bella nodded, or tried to at least.

Antonio fished around in his pockets until he produced a small black hairpin with a piece of paper stuck in it. Francis released Bella, who grabbed the hairpin greedily and ran off.

Romana gave a soft sigh from the other end of the tiny kitchen, and Francis and Antonio were both next to her in an instant. "What's wrong, querida?" Antonio whispered. He stroked her hair. "I know it hurts, but we will get you to a doctor—"

Francis was cursing himself for never asking Elisabeta how to take care of wounds when Romana said, "It hurts, yes, but…I'm sorry!" She burst into tears.

Antonio started to panic. "No no no, do not apologize, you have done nothing wrong! Romana!"

"I never told you, I'm sorry, Antonio, and now it is too late…"

"Never told me what?" Antonio asked frantically. He planted soft kisses all over her sweaty face to calm her down. "What is it?"

"I was…with child," Romana said quietly. "And I did not tell you because I did not know what to do about it, but she has stabbed me and I fear for the child now. And for my ability to have children in the future." Tears started to slip down her face.

"Oh, my Romana, it is not so bad! As long as you are okay, we can worry about that later. I would rather have a safe Romana than hurting Romana. Let's take you to the doctor." She nodded.

Francis realized the situation was in good hands and stood awkwardly. "Well, I've, er, got to go now, Elisabeta's life is in more danger by the second and I really wish I could stay and help but I can't so I've got to go." He gave a small bow. "Thank you, and I'm sorry once again." He walked slowly to the door, remembered that Romana had wanted him to take some tomatoes (she might not still, but hey, free tomatoes), then dashed out to the road before anyone could see him or his shame.

Within a week he had caught a boat back to Rome. Down in his cabin, he finally looked at the note that had come with the hairpin.

It said, The Drunken Baker's Bastard.

Romana and Antonio did go see a doctor as seen as they were able to bind up the wound properly. Unfortunately, the closest thing to a doctor for miles was an elderly woman who had an herb garden. She told them Romana would likely be fine, maybe even able to have children years down the road, as long as she let the wound heal properly and didn't strain herself, but the baby was lost.

Romana cried for the rest of the day. Antonio wanted to stay and comfort her, but she ordered him to go back to work or he might be fired.

She finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, not being able to thanks to the tears. When she woke up, there was a cloth bag on the table next to her bed. With it came a note.

Use these in your tea until they run out, and you'll be able to have a baby again soon. I sincerely apologize for the injuries sustained thanks to me. This is the best I can do for now.

-The Rose

The bag was full of herbs. Romana's lips quirked up into a tiny grin, and she went downstairs with the herbs to make herself a cup of tea.

AN: Don't ask me what the mystical herbs the Rose gave Romana were. I don't know. We'll just say it was Chemical X. The next time Romana gives birth it will be to the Powerpuff Girls. Except instead Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, they'll call them Felicia (after, well, Felicia), Francesca (after Francis), and Flovina (which is like Lovina, Romana's nonna, but with an F). Which I don't think is a name but it started with an F!

I feel like battles involving cooking implements is becoming sort of a theme. I'll have to remember that for the next story.

The whole thing with Francis telling Romana about Felicia's death wasn't in the original plans. I just put that in because it was three in the morning and I was tired and stupid.

I hope you enjoyed! :D