Read Murphy's Law for Free Online

number. His name is Dante, and he’s cute and fun and he’s not married and I want you to call him, now.” Lou’s eyes had narrowed. “Wait. Knowing you, you won’t, so I’ll call him and have him call you. You’ll like him.”
    Well, Faith hadn’t had to call him after all. He’d come all on his own.
    Ain’t life grand?
    Faith sat down in one of the spindly chairs and expected Commissario Rossi to take a seat behind the desk and play power politics, but he surprised her by grabbing one of the uncomfortable chairs and sitting next to her. He took out a notepad and pen.
    “So, Miss Murphy,” he began, “I understand you found a body this morning.”
    “A dead one.” Faith nodded. “And please call me Faith. I know your cousin Lou very well.”
    “Lucrezia.” He smiled faintly. Dear God, he looked so much like Nick it was scary. “And you must call me Dante.”
    He was tall and well-built without giving the impression of being a mountain like Nick, but he had the same bright blue eyes, dark hair and the same olive skin and strong features. No wonder she’d mistaken him for Nick.
    “Lucrezia called me yesterday to say you were coming and to look you up. As I said, I was going to call today. I didn’t imagine I’d be meeting you this way.”
    “No.” Faith smiled faintly. “Not even Lou could think up this much excitement.”
    “I see you do know her well.” He even had the Rossi charm. His English was excellent, with only a faint hint of an accent. He leaned forward. “So, Faith, what happened?”
    It was smooth and friendly, but Faith was under no illusion that this was anything but a police interrogation.
    “Nothing actually happened, in the sense of action. The man was dead after all.” She spoke slowly. Dear God, she was so tired. “I knocked on Professor Kane’s door at eight a.m. this morning.”
    Reflexively, Faith looked down at her wristwatch. God. Only an hour ago . It felt like a century. “I needed to ask for some information. His door was ajar so when I didn’t get an answer, I pushed it open slightly. Then I saw him stretched out on the floor.” Her lips tightened. “I thought he was drunk.”
    “Hmm.” He looked down at his notepad. “You must have known him well to make such an assumption.”
    “Well, I’ve worked under Professor Kane for a year now, so I was aware of…of his habits.”
    Dante Rossi wrote quickly in his notepad with bold, certain strokes, unlike Nick who wrote painstakingly slowly, a letter at a time.
    A bird chirruped loudly outside, interrupting the silence. Faith swayed in her chair with exhaustion. Part of it was hunger—she hadn’t eaten much last night and hadn’t had breakfast yet—part of it was sleep deprivation, but a goodly portion of it was emotional burnout.
    Too many things happening all at once, none of them good.
    The luck of the Murphys, holding true.
    Dante looked up, pen hovering.
    Faith took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Pinwheels danced across her eyes and she shut them for a moment. Which wasn’t good, because she saw Roland Kane’s ill-tempered features right there, on the inside of her lids. Her eyes snapped open. Seeing Dante Rossi instead of Kane was a distinct improvement.
    “And?” he prodded
    “So, I walked in and, um, coughed.”
    “To get his attention?”
    Faith looked at him, startled. “That’s right.”
    He smiled. “You look surprised that I understand. I see you’re used to Nick. He’s a little slow.”
    That was Faith’s cue to defend Nick. He was often the butt of family jokes and she’d heard them all—that he played hockey with a warped stick, that his think tank leaked, that he’d played too often without a helmet. Nick wasn’t dumb, just a little clueless at times.
    Faith opened her mouth then closed it. Let Nick defend himself, the rat.
    “And you didn’t get his attention, right?”
    Faith blinked. “Nick’s?”
    He sighed. “No. Professor Kane’s.”
    “No.” Faith frowned.