Death in Florence Read online

  D E A T H

  I N

  F L O R E N C E

  (A Year in Europe—Book 2)

  B L A K E P I E R C E

  Blake Pierce

  Blake Pierce is the USA Today bestselling author of the RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes seventeen books. Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising fourteen books; of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; of the KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising five books; of the MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE mystery series, comprising six books; of the KATE WISE mystery series, comprising seven books; of the CHLOE FINE psychological suspense mystery, comprising six books; of the JESSE HUNT psychological suspense thriller series, comprising fifteen books (and counting); of the AU PAIR psychological suspense thriller series, comprising three books; of the ZOE PRIME mystery series, comprising six books; of the ADELE SHARP mystery series, comprising ten books (and counting); of the EUROPEAN VOYAGE cozy mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the new LAURA FROST FBI suspense thriller, comprising three books (and counting); of the new ELLA DARK FBI suspense thriller, comprising six books (and counting); of the A YEAR IN EUROPE cozy mystery series, comprising three books (and counting); of the AVA GOLD mystery series, comprising three books (and counting); and of the RACHEL GIFT mystery series, comprising three books (and counting).

  ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1), WATCHING (The Making of Riley Paige—Book 1), NEXT DOOR (A Chloe Fine Psychological Suspense Mystery—Book 1), THE PERFECT WIFE (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book One), IF SHE KNEW (A Kate Wise Mystery—Book 1), and MURDER (AND BAKLAVA) (A European Voyage Cozy Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Amazon!

  An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

  Copyright © 2021 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Catarina Belova, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE

  RACHEL GIFT MYSTERY SERIES

  HER LAST WISH (Book #1)

  HER LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

  HER LAST HOPE (Book #3)

  AVA GOLD MYSTERY SERIES

  CITY OF PREY (Book #1)

  CITY OF FEAR (Book #2)

  CITY OF BONES (Book #3)

  A YEAR IN EUROPE

  A MURDER IN PARIS (Book #1)

  DEATH IN FLORENCE (Book #2)

  VENGEANCE IN VIENNA (Book #3)

  ELLA DARK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

  GIRL, ALONE (Book #1)

  GIRL, TAKEN (Book #2)

  GIRL, HUNTED (Book #3)

  GIRL, SILENCED (Book #4)

  GIRL, VANISHED (Book 5)

  GIRL ERASED (Book #6)

  LAURA FROST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

  ALREADY GONE (Book #1)

  ALREADY SEEN (Book #2)

  ALREADY TRAPPED (Book #3)

  EUROPEAN VOYAGE COZY MYSTERY SERIES

  MURDER (AND BAKLAVA) (Book #1)

  DEATH (AND APPLE STRUDEL) (Book #2)

  CRIME (AND LAGER) (Book #3)

  MISFORTUNE (AND GOUDA) (Book #4)

  CALAMITY (AND A DANISH) (Book #5)

  MAYHEM (AND HERRING) (Book #6)

  ADELE SHARP MYSTERY SERIES

  LEFT TO DIE (Book #1)

  LEFT TO RUN (Book #2)

  LEFT TO HIDE (Book #3)

  LEFT TO KILL (Book #4)

  LEFT TO MURDER (Book #5)

  LEFT TO ENVY (Book #6)

  LEFT TO LAPSE (Book #7)

  LEFT TO VANISH (Book #8)

  LEFT TO HUNT (Book #9)

  LEFT TO FEAR (Book #10)

  THE AU PAIR SERIES

  ALMOST GONE (Book#1)

  ALMOST LOST (Book #2)

  ALMOST DEAD (Book #3)

  ZOE PRIME MYSTERY SERIES

  FACE OF DEATH (Book#1)

  FACE OF MURDER (Book #2)

  FACE OF FEAR (Book #3)

  FACE OF MADNESS (Book #4)

  FACE OF FURY (Book #5)

  FACE OF DARKNESS (Book #6)

  A JESSIE HUNT PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES

  THE PERFECT WIFE (Book #1)

  THE PERFECT BLOCK (Book #2)

  THE PERFECT HOUSE (Book #3)

  THE PERFECT SMILE (Book #4)

  THE PERFECT LIE (Book #5)

  THE PERFECT LOOK (Book #6)

  THE PERFECT AFFAIR (Book #7)

  THE PERFECT ALIBI (Book #8)

  THE PERFECT NEIGHBOR (Book #9)

  THE PERFECT DISGUISE (Book #10)

  THE PERFECT SECRET (Book #11)

  THE PERFECT FAÇADE (Book #12)

  THE PERFECT IMPRESSION (Book #13)

  THE PERFECT DECEIT (Book #14)

  THE PERFECT MISTRESS (Book #15)

  CHLOE FINE PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES

  NEXT DOOR (Book #1)

  A NEIGHBOR’S LIE (Book #2)

  CUL DE SAC (Book #3)

  SILENT NEIGHBOR (Book #4)

  HOMECOMING (Book #5)

  TINTED WINDOWS (Book #6)

  KATE WISE MYSTERY SERIES

  IF SHE KNEW (Book #1)

  IF SHE SAW (Book #2)

  IF SHE RAN (Book #3)

  IF SHE HID (Book #4)

  IF SHE FLED (Book #5)

  IF SHE FEARED (Book #6)

  IF SHE HEARD (Book #7)

  THE MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE SERIES

  WATCHING (Book #1)

  WAITING (Book #2)

  LURING (Book #3)

  TAKING (Book #4)

  STALKING (Book #5)

  KILLING (Book #6)

  RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES

  ONCE GONE (Book #1)

  ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)

  ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)

  ONCE LURED (Book #4)

  ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)

  ONCE PINED (Book #6)

  ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)

  ONCE COLD (Book #8)

  ONCE STALKED (Book #9)

  ONCE LOST (Book #10)

  ONCE BURIED (Book #11)

  ONCE BOUND (Book #12)

  ONCE TRAPPED (Book #13)

  ONCE DORMANT (Book #14)

  ONCE SHUNNED (Book #15)

  ONCE MISSED (Book #16)

  ONCE CHOSEN (Book #17)

  MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES

  BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)

  BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)

  BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)

  BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)

  BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)

  BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

  BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)

  BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)

  BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)

  BEFORE HE LONGS (Book #10)

 
BEFORE HE LAPSES (Book #11)

  BEFORE HE ENVIES (Book #12)

  BEFORE HE STALKS (Book #13)

  BEFORE HE HARMS (Book #14)

  AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

  CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

  CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

  CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

  CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

  CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

  CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)

  KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

  A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

  A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)

  A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

  A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

  A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Florence.

  Even when Diana was a little girl, the name of the Italian town had inspired thoughts of lush landscapes, cobblestone streets, flowery breezes, and romance.

  Lots of romance.

  So it was ironic that Diana was here, in Italy, on her whirlwind European trip—completely alone.

  Diana had always been a planner, detailing things almost down to the minute. But when she’d left Paris, she’d made a decision. She’d spent the ten-hour high-speed bullet train ride (with a transfer in Milan) transforming her itinerary, which was once full of sites and excursions every tourist wanted to see, to something else.

  A bucket list, of sorts, personalized to her.

  The first item on the list? Fall in love in Italy.

  A tall order, considering she couldn’t speak the language, was newly divorced and had been hurt before, and wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.

  But as she stepped off the train at Firenze Santa Maria Novella railway station early that morning, she dragged in a bracing breath of chilly air and smiled, excited by the challenge. She looked around at the many tourists scurrying about like mice, energized and thrilling over the possibilities.

  I can do this. And it’s going to be great.

  Smiling from ear to ear, she retrieved her luggage and walked along the concourse, listening to the musical sound of the Italian language wafting up from the intercom and from people around her. In the background, Andrea Bocelli crooned. The rich scent of roast coffee and vanilla coming from a tiny pasticceria tantalized her. The station was modern and nondescript, a boxy warehouse by American standards, but a little shiver went through her as she stepped outside into the warm light of morning and gazed up at the Italian flag flapping in the breeze, and the tile-roofed Florence buildings scattered about the hillside.

  She stepped around a rack, brimming with bicycles, and stood in front of the McDonald’s (a reminder that she could never fully escape America, no matter how hard she tried), waiting for a taxi. She decided to wait to check her phone for messages, which she was sure would all be from Lily and Bea, her adult children in vastly different time zones, and all of them versions of Are you okay?

  They hadn’t believed she could do this. Didn’t think she’d make it. Thought she’d come back after the first week.

  But she’d muddled through. Paris had been an adventure, what with nearly being arrested and murdered. No, it hadn’t been everything she was hoping for. Far from it. But in a lot of ways, it’d been more.

  And she already couldn’t wait to see what kind of adventure she’d find in Italy.

  A taxi pulled up at the curb, and an old man popped out, smiling at her as he tipped his flat cap and took her luggage. “Buongiorno.”

  “Buongiorno!” she replied, scrolling through the translation app on her phone. “Um . . . Per favore portami a questo indirizzo . . . Castello Di Gabbiano?” Could you please take me to this address?

  “Ah. Si,” he said, opening the door for her and helping her in. Then he slipped into the driver’s seat, and they took off into the wondrous historic city nestled in the heart of Tuscany.

  The city proper was full of small, winding streets that it seemed the small cab would barely fit through. Though much of it was like any ordinary city, with streets full of busy, fashionable people, tightly packed modern buildings, and traffic, everywhere around were signs of the rich history of this part of the world. She kept her eyes peeled for the unique sights that made Florence Florence, looking for things that had been on her old list, the Cathedral of Santa Maria, the Galleria, and more. She still planned to see them, but since all her plans in Paris had been thrown into the air and she’d still had an amazing time, she’d decided to be more flexible about it.

  Not exactly an easy thing. After fifty-two years of rigid scheduling, this leopard wasn’t going to change its spots overnight. Still, she was determined, and as a former successful businesswoman who’d clawed her way up the corporate ladder, she was used to facing adversity head-on, and adapting, if necessary.

  She gazed in awe as they swung around a corner and the brick-red dome of the massive Cathedral of Santa Maria appeared in the window, framed by a gorgeous pink sunrise. Slowly, the pink and green façade of the architectural marvel came into view, the sunlight gleaming off of its many intricate windows, its white, green, and red marble surface, and the bronze ball atop the cupola, which, she’d read, had been soldered by none other than Leonardo DaVinci himself. She shivered a bit at the thought, at the feeling of being in the presence of such a magnificent piece of history.

  The taxi sailed on past the cathedral, past many other buildings, spaced farther and farther apart, most with stucco facades and burnt orange terracotta roofs. They came out to a valley, with rolling hills and a vineyard stretching below, with rows and rows of grapevines baking in the sun. The driver pointed at a large stone building in the distance with an impressive tower and a medieval turret, just like the kind a princess would gaze out from.

  Her hotel. A castle.

  She’d planned to play it by ear, but on the train ride, she’d stumbled upon this place on her phone and couldn’t resist. An old castle amidst a vineyard, full of rooms with canopy beds and stone floors and views of the rolling green countryside? Yes, please! After seeing it, she’d added it to her itinerary. Stay in a medieval castle.

  Now, she was really glad she’d booked in for three nights. The place was even better than the pictures she’d seen on TripAdvisor.

  The cab pulled up a brick drive and drove through stone arches climbing with vines before stopping under a rustic wooden portico. By then, it was far too warm for a jacket, so she slipped it off and tied it around her waist. As she stepped out, two handsome young valets rushed to her service, fussing to help her with her one bag. They spoke in rapid-fire Italian, ushering her on into the lobby. Though stone-walled, it was by no means a cold space. In fact, with the sun pouring in the open windows and a large ceiling made entirely of stained glass, it was warm and inviting. There were wine kegs stacked in a corner, and rustic bottles placed on almost every surface. The home of Chianti. That’s what the website had said.

  As she stood there, fumbling with her wallet for her credit card, she heard someone giggle. She looked up to see a young blonde woman pulling her considerably older lover along with her, toward a light-filled patio. He had a stupid grin under his salt-and-pepper moustache.

  Of course, Diana
thought of Evan, her ex, who’d traded Diana in for his own younger, blonder model, whom Diana and her girls referred to, not-so-affectionately, as Vidal, since all of her substance was in her hair.

  Shoving those thoughts away, she pulled out her MasterCard and was just about to approach the reception desk when the elevator doors opened, and out stepped a young, starry-eyed couple, arms wrapped tightly around each other. They kissed as they walked, nearly bumping into Diana as she stood there.

  “Oh. Um, sorry,” the young, goateed guy said in an American accent, confused to find her there. Before she could respond, he was locking lips again with his companion and heading out the doors.

  “No problem,” Diana murmured. As she turned to head to the desk, a couple jumped in line in front of her, speaking German and throwing their massive backpacks on the ground. They were scruffy, the man with an unkempt beard and the woman with bits of dried leaves in her hair, both in hiking boots and shorts. Diana wondered if they’d just hiked over the Alps to arrive here.

  They retrieved their key and, hand in hand, headed toward the elevator.

  Diana watched them go, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  Italy was for lovers. She knew that.

  But still . . . why did it seem like the Universe was rubbing it in her face?

  Who cared if it was morning? She needed a glass of Chianti, stat. Like the girls in the office used to say, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

  Shrugging it off, she stepped up to the counter, patted her chest, and said, “St. James. Prenotazione,” which she’d been practicing in her head while on the train. St. James. Reservation.

  The pert, fairy-like woman behind the counter smiled. “Ah, Signora St. James. We are very happy to welcome you to our place. I trust you have had a good trip here?”

  English. Thank goodness, Diana thought as the woman typed something into her computer. “Yes. Thank you. Is there a place I can go for breakfast?”

  The clerk nodded and pointed to some double doors, from where the faint sound of conversation and clinking silverware and dishes emanated. “We’re serving right now.”