Page 64 of The Unraveling of Julia

“Okay.” Julia felt a frisson of excitement.

“With your permission, I’ll touch base with Marshal Torti and ask him to keep me apprised of any developments.” Poppy rose, and Julia stood up, too, gathering her phone and the photos.

“Yes, thanks.”

“If I turn up anything, you’ll be the first to know.” Poppy walked Julia to the door, where she paused. “Before we conclude, I have another referral for you.”

“About the white Fiat’s license plate, or the historian for Caterina?”

“No, a different referral. It’s unconventional, but I recommend it in your case.”

“What?” Julia asked, intrigued.

“I know an excellent medium.”

36

Julia and Gianluca had an outside table at the restaurant, which was small, chic, and overlooking the Arno. It had a magnificent view, and they watched the sun dip below the Florentine skyline, painting the clouds gold and orange. Round amber lights glowed on both banks of the river, and the water was a liquid mirror reflecting the graceful arches of its ancient bridges and buildings. The setting was romantic, or would have been if they were in a romance.

“Amedium?” Gianluca asked, his dark eyes flaring in surprise. His curls moved in the gentle breeze, and he had on another cool patterned scarf over a gray shirt and black blazer. Candlelight danced across his handsome features, and Julia noticed women at the other tables glancing over.

“Yes. She communicates with the dead. She’s even been used by Scotland Yard. Poppy’s going to see if she has time for me.”

Gianluca sipped his Chianti. “So how does a medium help you find your family? Assuming Rossi was your biological grandmother?”

“I think the idea is that she can help me communicate with Caterina and Rossi.”

“Well, I’d go see her, totally. I’d try anything.”

“Agree,” Julia answered, though her first thought had been of Mike.

“Oops, I said the wrong thing again.”

Busted.“No, you didn’t, but why did you say that?”

“I can tell I did,” Gianluca answered softly, and Julia didn’t know what to say. She felt touched that he could read her so well, but guilty that she was with him, rejoining a world that didn’t include Mike.

“By the way, I buried the lede.” Julia wanted to get back on track. “I found hair in the underground cell, and Poppy’s going to get it tested for DNA, so we can see if I have any in common.”

“Incredible!” Gianluca’s eyes rounded behind his glasses. “That’s, like, the answer. Where did you find the hair?”

Julia caught him up, telling him about how Caterina showed her the underground cell, and they hashed it out over a tasty appetizer ofgnocchiwith pesto and fresh mint. She opened up to him, grateful to have him to talk with, and he listened to her in an encouraging way, saving his questions until they shared an entrée of seabream with olive oil, roasted fennel, garlic, capers, and olives.

“Julia, let me get this straight. YousawCaterina in your living room? Like, a blue shape?”

“Yes.” Julia braced for skepticism, but Gianluca leaned forward, clearly intrigued.

“I don’t doubt you. History is full of reports of visions and connections with the spirit world, even with God. Think of Mary seeing the Angel Gabriel, who tells her she will bear Christ. And Julian of Norwich, an English mystic who saw Christ. There were others, too. Locally, Gemma of Lucca spoke with her guardian angels, Jesus and Mary. Nobody says she was crazy. She was beatified.”

“But I’m no saint.”

“They weren’t, either. They were normal women.” Gianluca warmedto his subject. “My favorite account is of Saint Lutgardis of Aywières. She had a vision of Jesus, and He asked her, ‘What, then, do you want?’ And she answered, ‘I want Thy Heart.’ Jesus responded, ‘I, too, want Your Heart.’”

“It’s beautiful.” Julia felt surprisingly validated.

“Historians read it as an expression of divine love, but I read it to mean thatalllove is divine. It elevates the notion of love itself.”

Julia listened, liking the way his mind worked. He made sense, but his rationality was bound up with emotionality.

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