Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(106)

It took time to make it to the second floor and then to Lydia’s apartment. Lydia had her own ritual before Aldo came over. She’d told Aldo and once, when Aldo had been drinking, he’d told Luigi. He thought it was sweet that she always spent half an hour soaking in strawberry-scented water because he loved the fragrance on her and in her hair. She sipped her glass of wine and relaxed in the hot, steamy water, her gel mask covering her eyes and music playing. Aldo had even recorded a list of love songs and given them to her. She told him she played them over and over, and he believed her.



Lissa believed her as well. Lydia showed every sign of being in love with Aldo. She had pictures of the two of them framed and hung in every room. She dressed carefully for him, always made herself available, and she never threatened him, not once, according to Luigi. Luigi, having married Angeline, had managed to insert himself into Aldo’s life and confidence.

Aldo had told Luigi time and again that Lydia was content to be his mistress as long as she got to see him and stay in his life. There was no evidence that Lydia had ever cheated on him. Aldo once had arranged for a friend to ask her out. A very handsome, wealthy friend. She had refused and later, told Aldo of the incident.



Lissa scooted down the shaft until she came to the grate covering the opening in the ceiling just over the toilet. At least the setup of the master bath was conducive to her entry. The door to the toilet area was kept closed, at least it had been the two times Lissa had made her dry run. It was now and Lissa could hear the occasional splash of water as Lydia moved in the bathtub.

Opening the grate carefully, she lowered herself to the toilet seat and then stepped off to the floor. Her crepe-soled slippers didn’t make a sound as she crossed to the door and inched it open. Lydia lay in the deep tub, head back, mask covering her eyes, earbuds in her ears, one arm stretched out, fingers closed around the stem of a nearly full wineglass. One finger kept time to the music. Lydia sighed contentedly, lifted the glass to her lips without removing the mask and replaced it, unerringly. Clearly she’d done this ritual many, many times and didn’t need sight to place her glass.



Lissa didn’t hesitate, but moved across the floor to the edge of the tub as Lydia lifted the wineglass to her mouth and took a small sip. The moment she replaced it, Lissa dumped the small vial of liquid into the wine and was already back across the room and behind the door again before Lydia took another sip.

It was a little more difficult to get back up into the shaft than to get down out of it. Still, she made it on the first try. Phase one complete, she reported to Casimir as she replaced the grate. I’m making my way to the bedroom to make certain she lies down. It should only be another ten minutes or so.



So far, no sign of the target. I’m in place.

He shouldn’t be here for another twenty minutes. I’ll need that time to get to the alcove just outside her apartment. That was the number one thing they had no control over that could mess up their plan. Aldo couldn’t arrive early. Any number of other factors could make the job difficult, but if he came early, she wouldn’t have a chance to get to him. What mattered to her more than killing Aldo Porcelli was making certain Lydia wasn’t a witness to anything that might get her harmed.



Lissa took several deep breaths and waited while the minutes ticked by. Sounds came from the bathroom, water draining from the tub, Lydia standing, walking across the floor, the bedroom door opening. Lissa saw her then, wrapped in a large, fluffy towel the color of peaches, her hair still up on her head, mostly finished wine in her hand as she made her way, yawning, to the bed. She drank the last gulp of wine, set the glass on the stand and lay down.

“Just for a minute,” she murmured softly to herself.



Lissa scooted back. There was no turning around, so she had to carefully, without making a sound, ease herself back down the shaft to the next branch that led to the alcove. She’s lying down to rest. Should be out in another minute or so. I’m on the move.

All right, malyshka, still no sign of him.



She appreciated that Casimir’s voice was confident and matter-of-fact now that their plan – her plan – was under way. He didn’t like it, but once her mind was made up, he’d stopped fighting her and instantly went into work mode. Taking her back. In all the years she’d worked with her uncle, even when she was only fifteen and sixteen, Luigi had never once taken her back. For that matter, neither had Arturo. Luigi had pretended to be ill, disappearing into his wing of the house. Arturo had needed to be seen in a public place. She’d taken buses. That had been when Patrice was born.