The Florentine Cypher: Kate Benedict Paranormal Mystery #3 (The Kate Benedict Series) by Carrie Bedford Read Free Book Online Page A

for me at the gate. “No luggage?” he asked, giving me a tight hug.
    “It’s a long story.”
    He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “Leo rang an hour ago. He can’t come after all. It’s too bad about the breakdown. That Land Rover of his is rubbish. It’s time for him to get a new car, I told him.”
    “I’ll bet I know what he said to that. Professors don’t make enough money to buy petrol, let alone a new vehicle.”
    Leo only had the senescent Land Rover because Dad had offered it to him before moving to Italy. Before that, he’d driven an equally antiquated Volvo he’d won in a bet just before he graduated.
    We crossed the paved driveway to the front door and Dad put his hand on my arm.
    “Brace yourself.”
    I heard a clatter on the hall tiles and, seconds later, an eighty-pound chocolate-colored projectile flew towards me.
    “This is Bianca,” Dad said. “I adopted her a couple of weeks ago. She’d been abandoned.”
    Bianca licked my hand and then sat down in front of me, panting with a wide-open mouth that looked like a smile.
    “She’s gorgeous.” I patted her on the head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “I wanted to make sure she settled in and that she’d be happy here. So it was best not to say anything prematurely. She’s a labrador mix.”
    “She certainly looks happy.”
    Dad looked happy too, I realized. The slump in his shoulders was less pronounced, and I thought that maybe he’d put on some of the weight he’d lost after my mum died. He’d let his greying hair grow a little longer than usual. His denim blue eyes, the same color as mine, sparkled.
    With Bianca at our heels, we went into the living room where the sun laid slabs of warm yellow on the pale limestone floor. The room looked as it always had. Dark antique furniture stood against creamy walls that held framed pictures of my family. I’d taken some of them myself. Open French windows led to a terrace overlooking the garden. It wasn’t warm, but the air was clear and, after the constant rain in London, it felt positively balmy. Standing out in the sunlight, I surveyed the garden, which was ready to burst into bloom.
    “It rained all week,” Dad said. “The sun came out specially for you. Take a seat, and I’ll bring us some tea.”
    Bianca lay under the coffee table and was asleep within seconds. If only I could fall asleep that easily. Still unsettled by the assault in the taxi, I stood up and wandered round the room, coming to rest in front of the photos on the wall. In the middle was a picture of my family. I don’t know who took it, because we were all in it. Mum and Dad, Leo and me— and Toby. I felt my throat close up. Little Toby was holding my hand and grinning that goofy grin of his. I must have been about ten. He’d have been two, and this would be just a few months before the accident. I flinched as my stomach contracted. How could something that happened twenty years ago still have the power to inflict so much pain? I took several deep breaths. It was a managing tool I’d taught myself to use whenever the memories bubbled up. Today, it didn’t seem to be working. Perhaps the stress of yesterday evening and the theft of the duffle and the book had weakened my usual defenses.
    Dad brought in tea and biscotti. He paused, still holding the tray, when he saw me looking at the pictures.
    “Are you okay, pet?”
    I blinked tears away before turning to face him. “Yes.” I managed a smile. “I’m fine.”
    “So what happened with the luggage?” he asked as he put the tray on the coffee table. “Did the airline lose it?”
    “No. It was stolen.”
    He looked up at me. “Stolen? Where?”
    I related the story of the man who’d tricked us into leaving the main road. “He took my duffle bag, but my laptop wasn’t in it, thank goodness. This is such a short trip, I decided to manage without it. Just as well, as it turns out.”
    “Goodness, Kate. That’s terrifying. Are you all