Page 18 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

Bastian smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The woman resumed knitting. The needles were as long as her forearm and seemed to be fashioned from wood, apart from the tips, which were capped in either steel or silver. He wouldn’t know unless he touched them. There was something hypnotic about the way they worked—clickity-clackity, clickity-clackity—and Bastian found his vision zeroing in on those silver tips as they flashed, almost like teeth in the sunlight.

He shook himself to regain focus.

“You knew the dead girl,” he said.

“Luna,” De Luca grunted.

The sparkle dimmed in Aunt Agata’s eyes. “Since she was a child. Terrible what happened.”

“Do you have any idea who would want to hurt her?”

“I have a fair idea. In fact, I saw her leave work yesterday. I’m probably one of the last people to see her alive.”

The shopkeeper jabbed a knitting needle, using it to point down the street to a building with windows that were illustrated with smiling feline faces. It must be the cat café that De Luca had mentioned.

“She was accosted as she crossed the street,” Aunt Agata said.

“Accosted?” De Luca asked. “By who?”

“Whom,” Whitby said.

“Salvador Silvestri,” Aunt Agata said, her top lip tugging up in a show of displeasure.

Bastian looked between her and De Luca. “Who’s Salvador?”

“A local,” De Luca said, while at the same time, Aunt Agata said, “A nuisance.”

“A local nuisance,” Bastian concluded. “A nuisance how?”

Aunt Agata blew air through her lips. The needles worked faster, flashing and clacking.

“Always scamming tourists, pretending he can read their fortune,” she said. “He peddles phony tarot readings and tells people they’re going to win the lotto. He is a disgrace to this town. We would be better off without him.”

The sudden darkness in her tone took Bastian by surprise. The shopkeeper’s initial friendliness had thinned into a sneer.

“What happened between him and Luna?” De Luca asked.

“He spoke to her,” Aunt Agata said, needles chewing the wool hungrily. “I couldn’t hear what was being said, but Luna looked upset. He took hold of her, and she pushed him away and hurried off.”

“What time was this?” Bastian asked. De Luca glared at him,and Bastian raised his hands to show he understood that this was De Luca’s territory. But Bastian had his own questions, too. It washisunlife at stake.

“Around seven p.m.,” Aunt Agata said.

“She was found dead just an hour later.” Bastian looked at De Luca, who appeared deep in thought.

“You are certain of the time?” the inspector asked.

“Sì.”

“Grazie,” Bastian said. He was struck by what the shopkeeper’s statement appeared to suggest. Was the girl’s death nothing to do with vampires or allies, but everything to do with a dangerous human?

Aunt Agata’s needles were moving almost on their own now. Weaving around and stabbing at the wool.Clickity-clackity, clickity—

Bastian looked closer at them, noting the violence in their motion. They were easily large enough to weaponize—perhaps even to open a throat.

He saw that Aunt Agata had noticed his attention and offered an innocent smile to mask the suspicion.