Page 61 of The Unraveling of Julia

“No, not so much,” Anna Mattia answered.

“So in two years, she put fifty-six thousand kilometers on it? That’s a lot of driving for somebody who never goes anywhere.” Julia didn’t understand. “Does Piero drive it, other than for servicing?”

Anna Mattia shook her head, and so did Piero.

“How far is the trip to Florence? It’s not that far, is it?”

“About forty kilometers.”

“Do you think she drove every week?”

Anna Mattia shrugged. “More.”

“How many times a week?”

“Many. She go late, I don’ see sometimes.”

“But your apartment is above. Wouldn’t you hear?”

“No, she park at villa.”

Julia put it together. Rossi went driving at night, but why? For company? For protection? For alure? Was Rossi driving routinely, hunting for victims to kidnap? Julia had no answers, only suspicions.

“Well, I better get ready for my appointment.” Julia got out of the car, left the garage, and hurried up to the villa. She entered the kitchen, found two plastic baggies in a drawer, and hurried with them into the living room. She made her way through the debris to the coffee table and picked up the strands of hair she’d taken from the comb.

Whoa.Julia felt the tingling again. She pulled apart the strands, divided them into two clumps, and put half in one bag and half in the other. She sealed them and left the room to shower and get ready for the investigator.

Time for answers.

35

Julia drove with an eye on the rearview mirror, worried about being followed. She kept track of the cars around her but didn’t see the white Fiat. She felt edgy and preoccupied, trying to figure out why Rossi drove around at night. The awful image of the underground cell kept coming back to her, and so did the spectral vision of Caterina.

Meanwhile the Ferrari drew admiring glances, making her wonder again if Rossi bought the car for a lure. The thought disturbed her to her core. She’d imagined her biological family for so long, but never suspected they were insane, criminal, child abusers, or worse. She’d gone from hoping Rossi was her grandmother to fearing Rossi was her grandmother.

The cityscape of Florence came into view, and Julia’s thoughts turned to her meeting with the family investigator. She planned to bring up the underground cell, but she didn’t know if she’d mention that Caterina showed it to her.

She was tired of people thinking she was crazy.

She was starting to believe she was anything but.

Poppy Whitcomb turned out to be tall, Black, and about fifty-something, with dark eyes, a longish nose, and a chicly glossy mouth. Her hair was short and silvering at the temples, setting off hammered silver earrings. She had on a beige linen pantsuit with a melon-hued camisole, and she welcomed Julia into a sunny, tasteful office, which had a cozy sitting area of upholstered chairs and a coffee table with a tissue box, like a therapist’s office.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” Julia got comfy in the cushy chair. “It’s nice sitting here instead of the desk.”

“Thanks.” Poppy smiled. “I love my job, and doing genealogical searches for adoptees is as personal as it gets, so I prefer an informal office, too. Are you sure you wouldn’t like water or coffee?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

“To begin, I’d like to get to tell you what I can and cannot do, then see if that matches your goals. This is a consultation, and there’s no charge for today.”

“Okay, great.” Julia liked her manner, which was warmly professional.

“All I know about you is that you are a United States citizen and were adopted in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you have a Pennsylvania birth certificate?”

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