Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(52)
“By the sea?” The bus traveled along the coastline, so it was a good guess.
Patrice smiled and nodded. “I’m taking pictures of homes. I want as many examples of places I could live as possible. I was in a cappuccino bar a few days ago and someone told me about the homes along this section of coast. Supposedly the homes are quite beautiful.”
The young mother nodded. “Costoso.” She floundered for a moment.
“Expensive?” Patrice guessed.
The young mother nodded vigorously. “Very expensive, but beautiful.”
The bus pulled to the side of the road, and Patrice flashed another smile. “Nice talking to you. This is my stop.” She waved at the little boy and, clutching her camera, hurried to get off. It was her experience that bus drivers started up just as fast as they pulled over.
As she snapped several pictures of the nearest home, she glanced at her watch. Luigi’s information was very detailed, as usual. Now she knew how he got that information – he was friends with those he targeted. He walked right into their homes, inserted himself into their daily lives. He knew their routines just as well as he knew his own.
Luigi had become ill a few days earlier while she was out doing recon of Cosmos Agosto’s home. Feigning embarrassment because he was walking unsteadily, Luigi had retreated, as he always did, into his wing of the house. That damned him in her eyes more than anything else. Thinking back, she realized every time she had gone after a target, he had retreated on the pretense of being ill. Before, she had accepted his chronic illness; after all, she’d known even before her parents had been killed that he was ill. Now, knowing it was a ruse, she was infuriated.
Lissa was grateful for the discipline she’d developed over the years, the practice of tamping down the fire always burning deep inside. For the first time in her life, she was glad Luigi had retreated into his wing, although she was tempted to come up with an excuse to have to crash into his empty apartment to see for herself that he was truly gone.
Patrice snapped more pictures. In fifteen minutes, Cosmos’s beautiful young wife, Carlotta, would go to her weekly beauty appointment. She was a former up-and-coming model, and Cosmos apparently dictated that she work out, stay a certain weight and always look gorgeous. She complied. According to Luigi’s information, Cosmos didn’t want children and had also insisted that his wife – not him – permanently make certain a pregnancy didn’t happen. She was young, but she had, again, complied.
Patrice continued her natural progression along the street. The manicured estates were large and set well back from the road. She took pictures of gardens, going so far as to balance on a fence to get a close-up shot of a certain flower in bloom. She took her time, out in the open, making certain she wasn’t followed, the way she always did. She didn’t deviate in the least from her norm.
Arturo remained behind in the house, supposedly to take care of Luigi. He slipped in and out of the wing, the only one permitted. She knew it was to help preserve her uncle’s subterfuge. That hurt as well. She’d come to love Arturo. She worried about him almost as much as she did her uncle. He was part of the entire betrayal. He’d been with Luigi long before the death of her parents. She’d known him all of her life.
He had never followed her on a job, but always, just in case, she made certain she was entirely alone. Luigi had taught her that. He had said to make certain there were no witnesses, not even someone she trusted. Arturo hadn’t followed her. None of Luigi’s men had.
She moved farther down the street, ambling slowly, snapping pictures as she went. There was little activity in the quiet neighborhood – few cars and no foot traffic, exactly the way she liked it. Since most of the larger homes were set back so far, she doubted if too many people witnessed her camera-happy persona, but if they did, it was Patrice they saw, no one else.
The Agosto estate was one of the largest along that particular road. The grounds were covered with flowers and shrubs. Wrought-iron gates stood at the entrance to the long, winding drive, a drive that snaked through the property to come up on the three-story mansion, swung around to the guest home and then farther back, to the cliffs lining the property above the sea.
The estate was the crowning jewel of the area. A low wrought-iron fence surrounded the gardens on three sides. There was no fence along the cliffs, and the ornamental fencing was just that – for looks. It was known that Cosmos Agosto kept dogs and guns. No one entered his property without permission, not even children – and he spread it far and wide that he didn’t like children. His reasoning for no fence along the cliffs was that he wanted an unobstructed view and he had no children to protect.