Sheila Connolly - Reunion with Death Read Online Free Page A

barn—that’s why the brickwork outside the windows is open, to let the air move through so the hay won’t rot or explode. The smaller building next door, where several of you are staying, was where the animals were kept. So, yes, some of you lucky ladies are living in a stable for the next few days. Barb has spent years fixing the place up. Now they take guests and some educational groups—and people like us. Let’s give them a round of applause for making us feel so welcome!”
    Everybody in the room, fueled by wine and good food, clapped enthusiastically.
    Jane took over. “Just a few details and we’ll let you go for the evening. Rest up, because tomorrow will be a busy day! If you recall your schedule, we’re planning to visit several Medici villas in the area—we thought we’d give you an easy day before we took you to Florence and all its wonderful museums. But first thing in the morning we’ll be visiting a small monastery that was supported by the Medici. And don’t forget—tomorrow night is our murder mystery dinner! Several of our members have been working hard to put this together, and we hope you’ll have a good time!”
    I’d seen the description of the evening’s entertainment on the earlier schedules and I’d carefully avoided volunteering for any part of it. I’m a lousy actress—too self-conscious. Once I thought I would outgrow that, but now I just accepted it as who I was. Let others strut their stuff; I’d watch and applaud.
    “Oh, and one last-minute addition that we’re very excited about,” Jean hurried to add before we all scattered. “Wellesley College Professor Emeritus Anthony Gilbert, who retired to Italy several years ago after more than forty years teaching Italian literature at the college, has agreed to join us on Friday evening and present a lecture on the Renaissance poets of Tuscany.” She beamed at the group as if she had just handed us a Christmas present with bows on it.
    Maybe it was the wine, or maybe the fatigue, but I wondered if there was just the tiniest moment of silence when Professor Gilbert’s presence was announced. I remembered the name vaguely, although I’d never taken a course with him. I had a fuzzy picture of a young man (young—hah! He must have been in his thirties at the time we were on campus) with long legs, who dressed in open-collared shirts and blue jeans, in a day when that was the exception rather than the rule among faculty members. Maybe I was wrong about that lull, for the murmur of conversation resumed immediately.
    “We have a lot to look forward to,” Jean said, or maybe it was Jane this time, “so I suggest you all get some rest. Breakfast will be served in this building starting at eight o’clock, and the vans will be leaving at nine, from the main house at the top of the hill. Buona notte!”
    Most people took the suggestion, standing up and drifting toward the front door. There would be plenty of time for talk later, with the luxury of days spreading before us. I looked at Cynthia. “You ready to go? Have you seen the room yet?”
    She smiled. “No, I came straight here—just dumped my suitcase outside the door. I didn’t want to miss anything. Where did they put us?”
    “Just up the hill. I’ve got a flashlight.”
    “Ah, Laura—always prepared. Then I’m ready to go crash. Pam, Ginny, Connie—great to see you, and I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”
    We followed the crowd out into the dark. For once I could lead Cynthia, and I guided her through the dark to our temporary home.

Chapter 3
     
    The flashlight app on my phone got us up the hill without mishap. Even from a distance in the dark I could tell that Cynthia’s suitcase was another one that was smaller than mine. What was wrong with me? Why did I need to carry half my wardrobe around with me? I comforted myself by reminding myself that those people who had brought only shorts and T-shirts were going to freeze. Maybe I could rent out my