Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

their new place, particularly the added space.
    It was a rustic home with hardwood
floors and wooden beams, a so-called half-timbered house, a style that was well
known in northern areas of Europe, Germany and Switzerland, for instance. It
had been built by an architect who was a relative of Maria’s. Nicholas’s
grandmother was of German background and had always wanted a house in that
style. As a child, she had spent many of her vacations with her German relatives
on a farm in the Black Forest region and had fallen in love with the farmhouses
there.
    Sofia was admiring a colorful
ceramic cake plate when a gust of wind rattled the window. It had rained off
and on the past couple of days. The rain during the winter and early spring was
only making a dent in the drought that had plagued California for several
years. It wasn’t enough to fill the diminishing reservoirs, but it was a good
beginning.
    The drought worried not just the
government officials who tried to get control of the water shortage by means of
a few controversial restrictions. Farmers, winemakers, and the tourist industry
all agreed that something had to be done but had different opinions as to how
the problem was going to be solved. There had been some acrimonious exchanges
between the different factions of the otherwise peaceful communities in the
drought-stricken Central Coast of California. Some people blamed the
proliferation of vineyards in the area for the water shortage. Members of the
wine industry, however, felt the blame was one-sided and unfair. According to
the vintners, vines and grapes needed little water during the growing season,
much less than for instance alfalfa and almonds, and they needed almost nothing
when the grapes were ripening. Sofia agreed with the vintners but also felt
that the increasing number of huge vineyards added to the problem.
    Sofia carried a box downstairs,
unpacked the dishes and towels, and put them away. She and Nicholas wanted to
convert the den upstairs into an office. Adjacent to it was a storage room with
a few pieces of old furniture that belonged to Martin and Maria as well as a
collection of boxes of items left by several members of the family who had
lived in the house over the years. Sofia wanted to pull out the lighter boxes
and put them downstairs, so the owners could pick them up or discard them. A
few of the boxes were labeled and some were unmarked. She went upstairs again
and opened one without a label to find out who it belonged to.
    On top in the box was a framed
photograph of a man, perhaps in his thirties or early forties. Sofia thought
first that it was Martin. At closer examination, however, she saw that it
wasn’t him. The man in the picture had piercing dark eyes while Martin’s eyes
were a soft honey-brown just like Nicholas’s. Sofia gave a quick gasp and her
heartbeat increased as she realized that it must be Angelo, the lost brother,
and that the box belonged to him or to his wife Elvira.
    Sofia stared at the photo for a
while. “Where are you, Uncle Angelo?” she whispered. “What have you done? Are
you still alive? Are you guilty? Or just afraid?” Sofia knew from experience
how a dark secret can hurt and even ruin a family.
    She put the photo aside and began
to browse through the rest of the stuff. There wasn’t much, a pile of envelopes
held together with a rubber band, a blouse, jacket, and a skirt, things that
belonged to a woman. At the very bottom, hidden under a blanket, was a notebook
or diary. It reminded Sofia of the diary she’d had as a child, but this looked
more as if it belonged to an adult. It was of dark-blue leather and had a
golden lock. Sofia checked to see if there was a key somewhere but couldn’t
find one.
    Outside, the wind picked up again.
A slamming door downstairs startled Sofia. Then she heard Nicholas’s voice.
    “Darn it. It sure blows, knocked
the door right out of my hand. Where are you?”
    “Up here,” Sofia called back.
“Come and