“Did you try reaching him at his apartment in London?” she asked, keeping her gaze now firmly away from Rico’s.
“Si, si. Of course we tried. Paulo is traveling, trying to run Gianni to ground.” He sounded completely disgusted with the whole situation. “Paulo is in Monaco right now. If he finds Gianni there, he will call me immediately. I am going to Gstaad. He had a woman there last year and perhaps…”
That was the trouble with having a wandering family. They all had connections all over the world. Gianni could be anywhere. But the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone had Teresa more than a little worried. What if he had been arrested somewhere? What if he was right now sitting in a jail cell and couldn’t call?
She chewed at her bottom lip as she considered the possibilities. Then she realized that if one of the Coretti family had been arrested, it would have made all of the news programs. So clearly Gianni wasn’t in jail. So where, exactly, was he?
“Papa, if you can’t find him in Switzerland,” she said, “call Simone in Paris. She might know where he is.”
“Ah, of course!” Her father sounded joyful at the suggestion. “Simone and Gianni…” And off he went again in fluent, musical Italian.
Teresa stole a glance at Rico and was sorry she had. He didn’t look happy. His blue eyes were almost cobalt and a muscle in his tightly clenched jaw twitched with his effort to control his anger.
“You will be well, bellissima,” her father said when he had wound down. “All will be taken care of. But we might need a little more time…”
Oh, no. “Hold on, Papa.”
Taking a breath, she covered the phone with her hand and spoke to the man glowering beside her. “Paulo and my father are having a hard time finding Gianni,” she explained.
“He’s the one who took my dagger?”
“Yes,” she said shortly. “And it seems he’s disappeared, at least temporarily. They’re looking for him, but Papa says they might need a little more time and—”
Shaking his head, he snatched his phone from her and said tightly, “Signore Coretti. You have no more time. There are two weeks left. If my dagger is not returned, the evidence I hold goes to Interpol.”
She could hear her father’s loud blustering and his shouted demand, “And what of Teresa? What happens to my little girl?”
She held her breath, waiting for the answer to that question. Rico’s gaze met hers and she saw no softening in those cold blue depths. No warmth on his features when he said, “She will no longer be your concern. As she is my wife, I decide what will happen.”
He shut off the phone and dropped it into his shirt pocket. Looking down at her, he repeated, “Two weeks, Teresa.”
“And then?”
“We will see when the time comes.” He took her hand in his, but it wasn’t a comforting grip. More like a jailer’s hold on a flight risk. “For now, let us go to the chocolatier for Melinda’s gift.”
She followed after him because she had no choice. But the truth was, she’d have followed him anyway.
There were only two weeks left. And whatever his plan for Teresa entailed, she knew it didn’t include staying with him.