Stella noticed a small smile flick across Salvo’s face, but the captain stared at her, his eyes like weathered stone. She went on, “I mean, you’re probably right, it was probably luck the first time around, and I know you smart and savvy policemen no doubt have it all figured out . . . but . . . it’s kind of a plot hole, isn’t it? Are you sure about his starting a pastry shop?”
An image of the single key on the ring leapt into her mind. Could it be true that Jacopo was going to open a pastry shop? If so, it upped the possibility of Aldo being the murderer and decreased the possibility of it being Antonio.
The men still had said nothing. Stella widened her stance. “While you’re mulling that, you might be interested to know that Jacopo was having an affair with Aldo’s wife.”
“How do you k
