Page 54 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

“Are you receiving treatment from Kerstin Grönberg?” De Luca asked, voice gruff. He was stiff as a mannequin again, his shoulders high, adorable jaw tense, those beautiful eyes fixed on Arianna, glinting like slivers of ice. Whatwasit with them? Bastian was desperate to know, but they had more pressing concerns.

At mention of treatment, understanding dawned on Arianna’s face.

“Oh, that. If you must know, I’ve been suffering from insomnia, and she gave me an aromatherapy treatment. It’s helped. It’s why I sell her olive oil, to send more business her way.”

Bastian studied her, trying to figure out if she was lying. If shewasa liar, she was a good one. Her explanation was delivered with brusque clarity. He could attempt to extract the truth from her the way he had with Emilio, but that would require her to trust him, and, honestly, Bastian was more likely to sprout wings and fly circles around the moon than suddenly gain the trust of the gelato girl.

Then he heard it. Her pulse. Just a regular human pulse, steady as the slow beat of a drum. Frustration thudded in his temples.

“She has a heartbeat,” he said, massaging his forehead. “She’s not a vampire.”

“Of course I’m not,” Arianna snapped. Her hand went to the cross necklace that glinted against her breastbone. “What’s this about?”

“We’re trying to catch the killer, dear,” Bastian said.

“And you thought I…” Arianna didn’t finish the thought,instead shooting an angry glare at De Luca. She said something in Italian that Bastian didn’t understand. De Luca replied, and the sound of him speaking his language did something funny to Bastian’s legs.

He felt lightheaded again. Giddy.

“I’ve been working the case all day,” De Luca told Arianna in English.

Her chin jerked at Bastian. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Listen, if you know something—” Bastian began, but De Luca cut him off.

“We should talk inside,” he told Arianna. “Alone.”

She shrugged and went into the shop.

“De Luca,” Bastian said, but the inspector spoke over him again.

“Per favore, let me handle this.”

Bastian was taken aback by his pleading tone. And damn him for wielding the Italian language like that. He felt warmth at his arm and realized De Luca’s hand rested there. Whatever was going on with the inspector and the gelateria owner, De Luca wanted it to remain private. Bastian supposed he should respect that. He nodded and took hold of De Luca’s arm.

“If the killer isn’t Arianna, and it’s not Kerstin,” he said, “I think we should seriously consider the mayor. She has a stash of human blood in her office, she’s involved with L.O.V.E., and now we find out she’s a fan of some dubious olive grove remedy. It doesn’t feel right.”

De Luca frowned, appearing torn. “I hear you, but she’s been so good for this town. I just can’t see her doing anything to jeopardize the safety of Vernazza, or her position as mayor, let alone kill anybody.”

He seemed so certain and, damn, he was cute when he was earnest.

“Nevertheless,” Bastian said, “we can’t ignore the big red flags waving above her head.”

Not to mention that goblet full of blood.

“What about the commissario?” Whitby suggested.

“What?” De Luca asked, shock in his eyes.

“He wrote a false witness statement that purposefully twisted the facts,” the cat said. “Maybe he did it because he hates vampires and wants to remove any doubt of Bastian’s guilt, or maybe he did it to protect Matteo, his son.”

“Or he could have done it to cover hisowntracks,” Bastian added. “Let’s not forget he was on the beach last night, too, when we found Luna’s body.”

“Merda,” De Luca breathed. “But why? Why would he kill them?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.”

“Going after the commissario would be just as dangerous as going after the mayor, though,” Whitby said. “He already hates us. And we’re supposed to be—”