Page 51 of The Unraveling of Julia

Julia shuddered, wondering if he was right.

“I can’t remember the last kidnapping we had out here.” Marshal Torti lifted an eyebrow, turning to Julia. “If I may ask, how much money did you inherit?”

“About three million euros.”

Marshal Torti’s eyes flew open. “That’s quite a sum!”

“That’s our point. That’s why I think you need to talk to the Fiat driver.”

Marshal Torti pursed his lips. “No, we cannot. He would need to take a further step for us to intervene—”

“What does he have to do?” Julia flashed on the night of Mike’s murder. “Iknowstalking can turn deadly. My husband was killed about six months ago, in Philadelphia.”

Marshal Torti grimaced, recoiling. “You have my condolences.”

“Thank you, but that’s why I think this is dangerous.”

“The question is who created the danger.” Marshal Torti turned to Gianluca. “Signore Moretti, why did you chase the Fiat driver? Driving between lanes and on the shoulder is unlawful. You know better. The danger was created by you.”

“That ignores whathedid,” Gianluca shot back.

“It was my idea,” Julia interjected. “I wanted to see where he went. Now you can look him up from his license plate.”

“Ms. Pritzker, how long is your visit here?”

“It’s open-ended.”

“Perhaps you should consider finishing your business and leaving.”

“That’syour advice?” Julia asked, taken aback. Gianluca frowned.

“Yes.” Marshal Torti nodded. “There is little we can do for you at this juncture. Self-help is always in order. As I said, the man has committed no illegality, and we do not harass our citizens. In addition, we don’t have the manpower.”

“You’rehere. You could make a phone call.”

Marshal Torti rose, his expression grim. “Our interview is over. I have your report. If there are any developments, you have my card. Thank you for your time.”

Not so fast.“Can you tell me who the license plate belongs to?”

“No, such information is confidential. Now, please, I have matters to attend to.” Marshal Torti gestured to the door, and Julia and Gianluca left the office frustrated. They hustled down the steps and outside to the sidewalk, where she threw up her hands.

“I mean, what was that? Useless!”

“Typical small-town cop.” Gianluca shook his head. “Wait. What about the family investigator? Tancredi? Maybe he can investigate and search the license plate. Or he might know someone who can.”

“Great idea, but he hasn’t called me back yet.”

“Let me try.” Gianluca slid his phone from his pocket, made a call, and started speaking rapid Italian, then ended the call with a satisfied grin. “Okay, Tancredi was supposed to call you but he got busy. There’s another family investigator in his office, a British woman named Poppy Whitcomb. She can see you tomorrow at four o’clock.”

“I’ll take it, thank you.” Julia felt a twinge of hope. “What did they say about the license plate?”

“She can’t run down the license plate. They don’t really do that, but she might be able to give you a referral.” Gianluca paused. “I didn’t realize the size of your inheritance. That’s a lot of money. Do you think you should leave, instead?”

“No, I want to meet the family investigator. Did you mean what you said about them wanting to kidnap me?”

“Yes, what you said to the cop convinced me. I can’t explain the Fiat driver’s actions in an innocent way.” Gianluca shook his head, his expression grim. “I admit, I wasn’t worried by him when we left Imola. I wasn’t sure that you were being followed or if his intent was harmful. But when we pulled up beside him and he took off, that sealed it. If he weren’t up to no good, he would have cursed me out.That’sItalian.”

Julia smiled.

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