Lucy finally spoke. “Okay, well, I don’t think there’s anything in here. We’ve gone over every inch of the racks, and there’s no other place in the wine cellar to hide anything,” she admitted.

  “I agree,” Ally said with a sigh. “What else was here when your grandfather was in charge?” she asked, leaning against the rack. There was a sudden smash as a bottle crashed to the floor, and Ally jumped back.

  “Oh shoot, Lucy, I’m sorry!” Ally apologized as both women watched the red wine running across the flagstone floor. “I’ll go get some rags and a trash bag—be right back!” she cried out as she took a large step over the spilled wine and jogged across the cellar. The room was quickly filled with the bright, fruity smell of the wine.

  “It’s fine—get the broom too!” Lucy called after her. While she waited for Ally to return, she carefully turned over the shards until she found the one she was looking for. The label revealed that the bottle was the house red wine, nothing expensive.

  Phew, Lucy thought to herself. They didn’t carry any truly absurdly priced wine, but there were still a few bottles that would hurt to lose.

  Ally came back down, arms loaded with supplies. “Here, let me clean up the puddle of wine,” she said, carefully kneeling down.

  “I’ll start getting the big pieces,” Lucy offered, grabbing the garbage bag. In a few moments, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Ally grabbed the garbage bag and hurried upstairs, depositing it in the trash before heading back down.

  “You know, an award-winning chef would never drop a bottle of wine,” Lucy said as she arrived, trying to joke.

  “And if they gave awards to restaurant owners, you would never win with such wobbly wine racks,” Ally retorted. Both women eyed each other for a moment before breaking into cautious smiles.

  “Alright, now where were we?” Ally asked.

  “Trying to figure out where else to look,” Lucy replied. “Not the lockers—those weren’t installed until after my grandfather died. I don’t know about the bathroom. That could be original, I suppose,” Lucy continued, shrugging.

  “Let’s go take a look,” Ally suggested, checking her watch. “But it is almost three. We have to get upstairs soon,” she added.

  “The bathroom isn’t very big—let’s take a quick look. Maybe behind the toilet or the mirror?” Lucy wondered as they crossed the cellar to the tiny bathroom, tucked underneath the stairs. Lucy pulled open the door, stepping inside.

  Lucy carefully examined the mirror and the sink, looking for anything that seemed out of place. There was nothing; it was just an only vanity. She turned around, crouching down to check behind the toilet. Carefully, Lucy lifted up the lid on the back of the toilet, covering the tank. “You always see people hide things in here on TV,” she explained to her friend. “But unfortunately, it looks like Nonno didn’t think of that,” she added in a dejected tone after finding nothing.

  “We really need to make sure that the toilet gets cleaned more often,” Ally commented, wrinkling her nose. “One of us should really come down here and inspect everything once a week,” she added.

  “I’ll let you have that honor,” Lucy said, replacing the lid to the toilet tank. “I don’t see anything,” she added. “Is there anywhere else you can think of to check in here?” she asked, glancing around the tiny room.

  “Nope,” Ally replied in a disappointed tone. “The floor seems normal, right?”

  “Completely,” Lucy replied with a sigh. “I was really hoping it would be in there. I don’t know where else to look,” she admitted, exiting the tiny room and closing the door.

  “Could it have been in some piece of furniture that’s been moved?” Ally wondered.

  “I have no idea,” Lucy replied dejectedly. “I wish at least one of the people involved in this was still alive. It would be so much easier if I could just call up my Nonno or Nonna, or even Elena,” she added with a sigh.

  “You really miss them, don’t you,” Ally said, leaning against the wall.

  “I really do,” Lucy admitted. “After they retired and my parents took over Alba, my grandparents took care of me every day. Nonno died when I was still pretty young, but my nonna was around for a while, and she’d walk me to school and pick me up every day,” she added, a smile on her lips. “Oh well,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was lucky to have as much time with them as I did.”

  “Anyway,” Lucy said, going back to the subject at hand, “As far as I know, there was never anything else down here,” Lucy continued, rubbing her hand down the rough brick wall. “My grandfather finished the basement himself—there was no one else who could have taken anything, except for all the employees we’ve had over the years.”

  “You really think one of them could have found something, and stolen it?” Ally asked in surprise.

  “No, not really,” Lucy admitted. “For the most part, they’ve all been good people, even going back to the beginning. My nonno prided himself on not hiring just anyone, and he taught that to me and my dad. I know if one of them had found something that looked important, they would have given it to us,” Lucy added as they both headed up the stairs back to the kitchen.

  “We’ll look again,” Ally promised. “We’ll come down tomorrow morning, and all day Monday if we have to. We’ll find it, if it’s still here.”

  “Oh! I have to tell you something!” Lucy exclaimed, suddenly remembering her big news. “Guess who I ran into this morning? Literally, I mean.”

  “Literally? Like, you actually ran into someone?" Ally asked, laughing. “Who on earth did you run into?” she continued.

  “Charlie Fitz! The police officer who…” Lucy trailed off as Ally interrupted.

  “Who investigated Donovan’s murder! And asked you out on a date, and never called afterwards!” Ally exclaimed. “You saw him? Where? What did he have to say for himself?” Ally peppered Lucy with questions as they stepped into the small office and sat down. “Shut the door and tell me everything!” Ally demanded.

  “I went to a pet store, to get some stuff for the cat. On the way, I bumped into him. He apologized for never calling, said he was nervous,” Lucy told her friend excitedly. “We actually made plans for Monday night. He’s going to come over and we’ll make dinner together. I thought that seemed a lot more relaxed than going out again,” she explained.

  “Good idea,” Ally said, nodding approvingly. “What are you going to make? Do you need a recipe?” she asked eagerly.

  “I was thinking pasta carbonara—what do you think? It’s easy, but delicious,” Lucy replied. “I can prep everything beforehand and just have to boil the water once he arrives,” she added.

  “I think the carbonara is a great idea!” Ally exclaimed. “And what about the wine—a nice dry Zinfandel, maybe?” she continued excitedly. “And dessert! You need dessert! I’ll whip something up,” she declared.

  “Ally, stop! You don’t need to make us dessert. I can go to the bakery across the street for cannoli,” Lucy protested.

  “Absolutely not! I’ll make a nice little fruit tart, something light after the heavy pasta,” Ally continued, cutting her friend off. “And you need a salad to start too. What about a nice, simple, mixed-green salad? With peach slices and walnuts and a raspberry vinaigrette? Don’t worry, I’ll make that too.” She paused for a second. “Do you think you should take up some of the nice plates from the restaurant?”

  “Ally, no! My plates are perfectly fine. We’re going to have a low-key evening, not a catered meal. But, if you want to make dessert, I will graciously accept your offer of a fruit tart,” Lucy conceded, laughing.

  “Oh fine! But it’ll be the best damn fruit tart you’ve ever had,” Ally retorted, a smile lighting up her pretty face.

  “Trust me, I know!” Lucy replied. “But for now, let’s get out front. Who knows what the employees have been up to while we’ve been playing detective?” The two women rose out of their chairs and exited the office, Ally turning left and heading deeper into the kitchen, while Lucy turned right and headed past the cellar door, out into the dining room.

  “Hey, Lucy!” a voice called out. It was Alex, one of the restaurant hosts. “Someone left this for you,” he said, hurrying over. He handed Lucy a business card. “One of the customers last night. She said you were great and told me it was really important that you get this,” he continued.

  “Thanks, Alex,” Lucy said, looking at the card. “Do you remember who it was?” she asked curiously.

  “Yeah, actually, it was the lady who was here with the old guy who was so upset about the window last night,” Alex responded. “I don’t know what she wanted,” he said over his shoulder as he returned to the host stand.

  Lucy read the card. “Andrea Anders” was the name printed on it, followed by the words “Lead Consultant—Anders Restaurant Group”. A restaurant group? Lucy thought to herself. It must be another offer to buy the building. Lucy had gotten several offers over the years from people who wanted to buy the building the restaurant was located in. It was prime North End real estate, and big restaurant groups were constantly looking for properties to open new, seemingly independent restaurants—which inevitably pushed small, actually independent restaurants, like Alba, out of business.

  She tucked the card into her pocket and headed over to check on the rest of the front-of-house employees. Some were working hard, preparing for the evening ahead, and some were taking things a little more slowly.

  “Come on, folks!” she called out, clapping her hands. “Let’s get ready to go—it’s almost time to open!”

  Chapter 9

  Lucy awoke with a start. She had only been in bed for a short while; she had been stuck downstairs in the restaurant until two in the morning. There had been a couple that lingered over their bottle of wine before leaving hand in hand around midnight.

  She blinked in the darkness, trying to remember the dream she had been having. She had been dreaming about her nonno. Slowly, it was coming back to her.

  What a bizarre dream, she thought to herself. In it, she had been small again, a child. In the dream she had been looking up at her nonno, laughing, because he was being silly. They had been playing a game together, but he kept insisting that it was important, that she needed to listen.

  Lucy sat up in bed, replaying the dream over and over again. Was that real? she thought. Slowly, a memory began to form in her head, from when she had been very young. She could remember standing on the stairs leading down to the cellar, with Nonno standing over her, insisting that she pay attention.

  “Lucy, this is very important!” Lucy could hear his booming voice in her head, with a trace of his Italian accent, even so many years after departing his home country. “Lucy, my girl, you have to pay attention!” the memory continued. Nonno had picked her up and had used his hand to guide hers to a spot on the brick wall along the stairs. She could remember the way his short white beard had brushed against her cheek. “Remember this, Lucy,” he had said solemnly. “This is important.”

  Lucy shook her head, still sitting up in bed. That can’t be real, she thought. Can it? Absentmindedly, she stroked her hand over the head of the kitten sleeping next to her, curled up on her bed, totally ignoring the new, cat-sized one she had purchased for him earlier that day. He twitched, as if having a dream of his own.

  Lucy rolled out of bed and made her way to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and leaning against the counter as she sipped. The kitten came padding out of the bedroom, letting out a short mew before sitting at her feet.

  Lucy stared out the window above her sink, overlooking Salem Street. The bakery across the street had its van parked out front, and two very unhappy-looking teenagers were slowly loading it with freshly baked bread.

  I can almost smell that fresh bread from here, Lucy thought. All of a sudden, she remembered she had never had dinner the night before. I wonder if that’s the reason for the weird dream, she thought to herself.

  “Just to be safe, better have a snack,” she told the kitten, shrugging. She opened the cabinet and pulled out a loaf of the same bread that was being loaded into the truck across the street. Popping a slice into the toaster, she bent down to pet the kitten while she waited. She heard the truck across the street rumble to life and pull away. Poor kids, Lucy thought to herself as she straightened up. The toaster popped and Lucy pulled out the bread, spreading butter over it and eating so quickly she burnt her fingers.

  “Mmm,” Lucy said out loud. “Sorry I can’t share, little guy. That was delicious,” she told the kitten as she washed her hands. As she dried them, she finally checked the time and was surprised to discover it was almost five in the morning.

  “Come on, kitty,” she said out loud as she emptied her glass into the sink. “Time to go back to bed.”

  Chapter 10

  Lucy awoke around eight the next morning, remembering her dream from the middle of the night. That couldn’t have been real, could it? she wondered.

  She slowly climbed out of bed, stretching. The memory she had uncovered stayed at the front of her mind as she showered and made her coffee, until finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She quickly got dressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt and black yoga pants, calling Ally as she did.

  “Hey, Ally, I’m sorry to call you so early,” she said to her friend. “I had this crazy dream last night, and I have another idea of where to search, down in the cellar. Do you think maybe you could come over?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Ally replied, muffling a yawn. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Have coffee waiting.”

  “You got it,” Lucy replied with a laugh. “I’ll meet you in the cellar,” she added.

  While she waited for more coffee to brew, Lucy paced impatiently around the apartment, tidying up. It was tough to keep the mess under control in such a small apartment, especially when you spent nearly every waking moment at work like she did. Having the kitten staying with her certainly hadn’t helped either.

  When the machine beeped, Lucy quickly prepared a mug for her friend—just a splash of milk, the way Ally liked it. Carefully carrying both mugs, her own now half-empty, Lucy made her way down the back stairs and into the restaurant, fumbling to unlock the doors with her hands full. She finally made it over to the cellar steps, where she flicked on the light and sat down to wait for Ally.

  Just a moment later, she heard the back door creak open, and Ally’s voice calling her name. “Over here!” she called back. Ally came down the steps and sat down on the same tread as Lucy. “Scootch over,” she said, bumping Lucy with her hip as she reached over to take her mug of coffee. She took a long sip.

  “Okay, now I can talk,” she said, before taking another. “What’s going on? You had a dream?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, but I had a dream about Nonno, and that triggered this memory,” Lucy told her friend, both hands wrapped tightly around the warm mug she was holding. “It wasn’t a lot, but I remember him telling me, over and over again, that it was important,” Lucy replied. “We were standing right here on these stairs, and he picked me up and made me touch the wall. He kept saying how important it was that I remember.”

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Ally said thoughtfully. “Do you know which part of the wall?” she asked before taking another sip.

  “No, I don’t. It was definitely this wall, though. We were standing on the stairs, and I remember all the bricks. This is the only staircase inside the building. Even the staircase outside, to the apartment, has a stucco wall, not brick,” Lucy pointed out.

  “Well, then, I guess we’d better start looking!” Ally said, heaving herself up. She reached out a hand to pull Lucy up to standing position. “Do you want to start at the top of the stairs, and I’ll start at the bottom?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Lucy replied. “Shout if you see anything weird,” she continued, climbing back up to the top of the staircase, while Ally headed down to the bottom.

  Lucy started to inspect the wall, feeling a little silly as she did so. “Does this make you feel kind of crazy?” she called down the stairs to Ally.

  “Yeah, I mean, I don’t think a lot of sane people spend time inspecting brick walls. But hey, we work in a restaurant! We already knew we were crazy,” Ally joked.

  “Fair enough,” Lucy replied, laughing as she went back to her task. “Do you see anything yet?” she asked.

  “Nothing yet,” Ally replied. “Anything up there?” she asked hopefully.

  “Actually, yes,” Lucy said slowly. “There’s a brick here, with no mortar,” she said excitedly, running her fingers over the brick in question. She set her cup of coffee down on the stairs, using both hands to try and move the brick.

  “That sounds promising!” Ally called back excitedly. She abandoned her section of the wall and hurried up the stairs to meet Lucy.

  “I can’t quite get a grip on it,” Lucy said, struggling to grasp the very edge of the brick. “Here, help me,” she continued, making room for Ally to fit in next to her. Together, they managed to wiggle the brick out of the wall. Behind it, carefully folded to fit the space, was a piece of paper.

  “Oh my gosh,” Lucy said in disbelief. She reached into the hole left by the brick and was just able to grab the paper with her fingertips.

  “What is it?” Ally asked eagerly, peering over Lucy’s shoulder.

  “Let’s find out,” Lucy replied, gingerly unfolding the paper. A second, smaller piece of paper fluttered out as she did so. Ally bent down to pick it up.

  “This is…a bill of sale,” Lucy said in astonishment, “dated September 19th, 1941. For our half of the building—211 Salem Street. Purchased by Angelo Moretti, from Elena Ricci, for $7,150,” she read from the piece of the paper. “Can you believe it? This is it!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement.

  “And this is a letter,” Ally said, reading from the paper she was holding. “From the same date. It’s addressed to Angelo, from Elena, and it thanks him for helping her to keep Bella Luna operating after her husband ‘was killed by that evil man’?” she read, quoting the letter. “Killed by that evil man?” she asked Lucy, raising an eyebrow.

 

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