Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight)

something akin to a sense offamiliarity.
“Thank you, Agent…”
“Adele. You can call me Adele.”
“Yes. Well, thank you. I’d belying if I told you I was very close with my mother. She was a hard woman.Brave, but hard.” Anita sighed again, glancing off at the bookcase withreflective glass doors.
“I see. And did she have anyenemies you can think of? Anyone who might…”
“Want to strangle her to death? Mymother wasn’t a soft woman, Agent Adele.”
“Just Adele is fine.”
“All right, Adele. My mother had areputation of being ruthless in the board room. She was cutthroat to get there.”Anita shrugged.
“So you’re saying there were manywho might have a motive?”
“Yes. I guess I am saying that.”
“Anyone in particular you canthink of?”
Anita chewed the bottom of herlip, glancing off for a moment and sighing to herself. Her short-cut, dark hairshifted as her eyes fixated once more on Adele. “I suppose the man she replacedon the board of directors didn’t think too fondly of her.”
“She took someone’s job?”
“The exact words he used, I believe,before security escorted him out was, ‘you stupid, ugly bitch, I’ll make youpay.’” Anita bobbed her head once, showing no emotional reaction to the harshwords.
“He said that?” Adele didn’t lether own thoughts show. Clearly, however, the victim was a woman who knew how toraise tempers.
“Ask anyone at that meeting. Hewasn’t happy when they voted him out and my mother in. She was behind it, ofcourse. Like I said, cutthroat.”
“You sound impressed.”
Anita sighed again, smiling softlyand staring at the back of her soft fingers. “Impressed? Maybe a bit. Angry… thattoo. My mother wasn’t a very understanding woman either.”
“Anyone else you can think of?”Adele asked, wincing sympathetically, but pressing the line of questioning.”
“My father, I suppose.”
Adele blinked, but before shecould continue, Agent Paige returned, carrying a glass of water and placing itin front of the young woman. Anita accepted with a grateful nod and sipped fromthe glass, sighing in contentment before placing it on the table next to acoaster.
She stared at where the cool glassmet the old antique before looking up again. “Will that be all?” she said. “I’mquite tired.”
“One last thing,” Adele said,grateful Paige allowed her to continue without interruption. “Your father had agrudge against your mother. Any reason in particular?”
“They’re divorced now,” Anitasaid, following another sip. She swallowed. “I guess passion was often a markof their relationship. Never did one hear such loud altercations when they wereangry, nor such emotional reunions when they made up.”
“But it did end?”
“Yes. Divorced, like I said.Probably for the best…” Anita trailed off, frowning against what seemed arehearsed line. “Maybe not the best anymore. But my father didn’t love my mother.Spoke harshly of her since…” She trailed off again, blinking as if suddenlyrealizing what she was saying. She stammered, looking quickly from Adele toSophie, “Not that I think he did anything. No, sorry. I was just processing.Both of them were quite angry with each other. But I never felt like they might…”She swallowed. “Harm anyone.”
“Right,” said Adele. To hersurprise, facing across the table and watching Anita, she felt some of theunease from earlier had melted like ice in sunshine. She knew what it was tolose a mother at that age. But it didn’t sound like Signora Calvetti wasanything like Elise Romei. Adele’s own mother had been her best friend. A kind,compassionate woman. Not cutthroat in any way.
She wondered if it was easier orharder to have lost someone she loved, rather than someone she’d only respected.
Adele listened as Agent Paigeasked another question, but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She justwatched, not quite seeing. Listened, not quite hearing, her own mind plaguedwith memories, images… Bleeding, bleeding…
And now, Robert gone too.
Paige patted Anita on the back ofthe hand, and Adele blinked, focusing once more and realizing she was beingaddressed.
“Pardon?” Adele said, looking atPaige.
The older Frenchwoman frownedslightly but said, “I think we best go, yes? Ms. Calvetti has been through alot.”
Adele released a breath but noddedquickly. “Right. Yes. Thank you, Anita, for your time.”
The two agents pushed slowly up.Adele felt a sense of disappointment they hadn’t managed to exact any furtherinformation. She supposed the next stop would be the coroner. Hopefully thatway—
“How dare you!” a voice suddenlyerupted from behind them.
All three figures in the diningroom spun around, eyes widened instinctively and fixating on the man standingin the door. He had a thick finger jutting into the room and his eyes blazedwith fury. “You have no right! None!” he yelled. He stamped his foot hardagainst the floor, his face reddening even further, and for a moment, Adelethought he might very well explode.

CHAPTER SIX
Adele watched as Agent Paige’shand darted to her sidearm, but she didn’t draw, her eyes narrowed on the manin the doorway. Continuing in broken English, the man made himself heard withincreasing gusto. “No right! How dare speak me daughter without me? How dare!”Spittle actually flung from his lips, speckling the magnificent oak table. Hewagged a finger around, nearly as round as a polish sausage.
Anita winced as the man screamed,trying—it seemed to Adele—to sink further into her chair and hide beneath thetable.
At last, though, she groanedsoftly and got to her feet, interrupting the diatribe.
“It’s fine, Dad,” she said,raising her voice. Then hurriedly she rattled off something in Italian.
The man paused long enough to drawa deep, gulping breath, his cheeks reddened and his chest protruding like somestrutting hen. He wore muttonchops of silver and gray, and had a wobbly chinthat moved when he spoke.
He turned to his daughter, shakinghis red face adamantly, and replying in a burst of Italian himself.
The daughter replied again, then,with an apologetic wince, switched back to English. “I am sorry, Agent Adele,but this is my father. He is not pleased you have spoken with me.”
Adele frowned at the man in thedoorway. “I’d gathered as much,” she said. “Excuse me, Mr. Calvetti,” shebegan, but she didn’t make it far.
“Signore Herrera,” he snapped,returning to English. “You little French girl, why speak to me daughter?”
Adele blinked, her eyes narrowingslightly. She’d long grown accustomed to blustering men throwing her genderback in her face as some sort of cudgel. Normally, she knew how