Death in the Dolomites David Wagner (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📖

about to blow off. “Yes, Signor Sindaco. I was on my way to his office.”

“Get in,” he shouted through the howling wind. “I can’t hear you.”

Rick opened the door and slipped in next to Grandi. The warmth from the heater hit him in the face and felt good. He returned to a normal voice. “It’s getting rough out there. Yes, I’m on my way to Signor Melograno’s office.”

“He’s not there, but I know where he is.” He shifted into first gear and the Land Rover started to move up the hill. “I’m heading in that direction.”

“But Signor Grandi, I—”

“Nonsense, it’s not out of the way.” He jerked his thumb toward the back of the SUV. “I was on my way to make some deliveries.”

Rick looked back and saw that the rear seat had been laid flat, and the space was covered with carved figures on the same blanket he’d seen that morning. The wooden bears lay shoulder to shoulder, staring at the roof of the vehicle. “I hope you’ll find good homes for all of them.”

Grandi chuckled. The Land Rover moved steadily up the main street and out of the center of town where the space between the houses began to widen. After they passed under the gondola cables the trees began to line the road, now curving slowly left and right as it climbed. Rick thought about taking out his cell phone and calling Luca, but since it would be impossible to keep Grandi from hearing both sides of any conversation, rejected the idea. Melograno was likely at one of his rental properties, perhaps showing it to a potential client. When Grandi dropped him he could call Luca to tell him where he was. He would wait there until the policeman arrived.

They were approaching a stack of single-story vacation apartments. The mayor told Rick how they had been built during the term of his predecessor, but he was hoping to get more built in the space next to them. Every plot needed to be developed, he said, to help the local economy grow, though the available space was limited by government restrictions. It was a delicate balance between maintaining the mountain’s integrity and allowing more construction, but Rick sensed which way Grandi leaned on the issue. They passed under the footbridge that connected mountain trails and ski lifts on the two sides of the road, and climbed past a hotel on the right. Rick remained silent as the mayor talked, thinking that they were on the same road Rick had taken with Luca to visit the old man. He hoped they weren’t going all the way to Folgarida now.

They were not. Grandi downshifted, slowing the Land Rover before turning off the road to the right. He engaged the vehicle’s four-wheel drive and started through the deep snow, which was getting deeper every minute as the wind swirled the flakes. Rick could make out ahead a Toyota parked in a wide field, facing toward them. Its red color was obscured by the snow accumulating on its roof. A man stood next to it holding down a large roll of paper spread on the hood. As they got closer he saw that it was Melograno. He wore a heavy coat but his head was uncovered, its thick hair flecked with white flakes. He looked up, and upon recognizing Grandi’s car, smiled and waved a greeting. As Grandi slowed to a stop, Rick’s phone rang.

“Please, take your call,” the mayor said as he opened his door. “I have some business to take care of with Umberto.” He closed the door and walked to Melograno.

Rick recognized the number. “Luca, I’m very glad you called.”

“Where are you, Riccardo? I’m here at Melograno’s office and didn’t find either of you.”

Rick quickly explained what had happened.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Luca said. “Be careful.”

Rick slipped the phone back into his coat and got out of the car. Melograno glared at him through hollow eyes. Rick was not smiling either. He now found himself in the middle of a deserted field with a man who could be involved in a crime. Bruno had, by his attempt on Rick’s life, revealed himself as the murderer, but Melograno had to be involved. And having Grandi present, did that help or did it make it worse? There could be three men involved, and two of them were here in the snow with him. He hoped Luca would hurry.

“As I was saying, Umberto, Signor Montoya was looking for you, but I remembered you saying you were coming up here, so I gave him a ride.” Grandi looked at the heavy paper Melograno was now rolling up. “Plans for the building?”

Melograno’s eyes darted from one man to the other, but eventually rested on Rick. “Yes, the plans. This will finally be built. Nothing will stop it now.”

“Your loan request has been approved, Signor Melograno?”

“What difference does it make to you?”

“It could have some bearing on the investigation.”

“Investigation?” He spit the word out. “If it hadn’t been for you, Mister Montoya, there would be no investigation. That buffoon from Trento could not investigate his way out of his own bathroom.”

“Umberto,” said Grandi in an overly soothing voice, “Signor Montoya has been doing his best to help.”

Melograno slammed the roll down on the hood of the Toyota, causing snow to fly into the air and get picked up by the gusting wind. “Signor Montoya has been nothing but trouble. And he continues to be trouble.” He walked to the rear door of the Toyota, opened it, and pulled out a long object from the seat. Rick took in a quick breath, but let it out slowly when he saw that it was a cardboard tube. Melograno pushed the rolled paper into the tube and tossed it on the seat. He left the door open and walked back to the front of the car, still staring at Rick, who was now positioned between the two men.

“Are you going to continue meddling, Montoya?”

Rick