“Do you know what set him off?” Alberto was known for his hysterics. He crooned to his flowers, swore at his workers, and occasionally had complete meltdowns that required pulling him back from the edge. Luigi had told many stories of taking knives and other sharp objects away from Alberto when he was having one of his fits. He had been with Luigi for as long as she remembered, always working in the gardens and only caring about his precious plants.
“I have no idea, but he’s got long shears and he’s threatening to stab himself through the heart with them. I don’t want to get near him. He came at me once and I nearly took out a gun and shot him.”
Lissa laughed. That was Alberto. Some things never changed. “Don’t worry, Raimondo, I’ll handle it. Where is he?”
“All the way in the back, Miss Piner. In the plot where those really tall bushes with the pink flowers are. The ones that grow over the arches.”
She knew where it was. Alberto didn’t allow his young gardeners to ever work that particular piece of the property. He did it himself. The plants growing there were very rare and difficult to grow, but under Alberto’s care, they grew thick and wild and very tall. There was a small jungle of pure beauty, and the head gardener was extremely proud of it. She couldn’t imagine if one of the others had touched his precious plants just what he’d do.
“That’s not good,” she murmured aloud. “I’ll go.”
“You don’t need me, do you?” He sounded more nervous than ever.
She burst out laughing again. Seriously, he was one of Luigi’s soldiers and he was afraid of an older gardener. “I can handle it,” she assured him.
He waved and his head disappeared again. Lissa followed him out of the library, making certain the man had ascended the stairs. She couldn’t imagine if her uncle was going to send an assassin after her that it would be Raimondo. He was too green, but she wasn’t going to take chances. She heard the door to his quarters close and she found her vest and jacket, shrugging into them, fitting weapons into the specially concealed pockets.
Being cautious had kept her alive throughout her childhood, her teenage years and now into adulthood. She hadn’t informed Luigi of Aldo’s death, so she doubted if he’d put a hit out on her that soon. Still, Angeline was Aldo’s sister. It stood to reason if his wife was informed of his death, she would call his sister. They were good friends. Luigi might know. Again, he always liked to hear details, and it would be awfully fast for him to set someone after her, but there was no sense in not taking precautions.
She wrote a note to Casimir, explaining where she was and that Alberto often had these little meltdowns. She’d join him the minute she managed to get the gardener calm again. Having dealt with Alberto on more than one occasion, Lissa took her time walking through the labyrinth of plants, exotic grasses, bushes and trees, hoping he’d calm down a little on his own.
The grounds were beautiful, thanks mostly to the head gardener. He was a master when it came to getting things to grow. She wound her way through the many plants and flowers until she heard the old man muttering to himself in Italian, threatening to cut the heart out of someone named Tito. She rounded a particularly spectacular flowering bush that was taller than she was and found the head gardener with his head in his hands.
“Alberto? What is it?” She spoke softly. Gently. His plants were like his beloved children, and she could see the hack job someone, presumably the absent Tito, had done to a rather exotic-looking plant. Three others lay on the ground, drooping, roots exposed. There was a gaping hole in the ground where the plants had been. The dirt was wet and a hose still spouted water, so that the ground was nothing but mud.
Her breath caught in her throat, one hand went up to cover the sound of distress at the sight. Someone had made a terrible mess of things. Alberto gestured wildly, flinging his arms around and pointing to the bare roots, mud and hole. He lifted one of the plants on the ground and threw it, his Italian so fast it sounded like automatic gunfire. He told her Tito had tried to transplant some flowers overgrown in another area to this sacred patch of the garden and in doing so had destroyed a rare plant that Alberto had been coaxing along for years.
Lissa had to admit, the mess was terrible. She couldn’t imagine that Tito would be keeping his job after making such a horrible mistake. Not only did Alberto look like he was angry, he looked close to tears. She had no idea what she could say to make this better. She stepped closer to the dying plants in an effort to buy some time to figure out the best way of handling the matter. Crouching down to inspect the ones strewn around, roots showing, she caught sight of the hole. Standing, she’d only seen a small corner of it. The rest was covered by the tall bushes around it. The hole was very deep and wide, like a grave…