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    The Lake Como Girls: The Case of the Missing Gladiator: Lake Como Girls Mystery Series
    The Lake Como Girls: The Case of the Missing Gladiator: Lake Como Girls Mystery Series
    The Lake Como Girls: The Case of the Missing Gladiator: Lake Como Girls Mystery Series
    Ebook174 pages1 hour

    The Lake Como Girls: The Case of the Missing Gladiator: Lake Como Girls Mystery Series

    By e.y.chypchar

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    About this ebook

    Summer and Francesca shed their scuba gear and pull on ancient robes. This time they're working as translators at the Coliseum in Rome. The girls soon learn that translating is not all about pointing to the bathrooms or checking ticket lines. The job gets a little rough when a drunk and disorderly tourist leaves them with bruised arms. Fortunately a handsome gladiator comes to their rescue. But when that gladiator doesn't show up for work one morning, the girls find themselves in far more danger that leaves them racing through the streets of Rome pursued by loan sharks. Who says you need to scuba dive to meet a shark!

    LanguageEnglish
    Publishere.y.chypchar
    Release dateJan 13, 2017
    ISBN9781386507789
    The Lake Como Girls: The Case of the Missing Gladiator: Lake Como Girls Mystery Series
    Author

    e.y.chypchar

    Canadian author.

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      Book preview

      The Lake Como Girls - e.y.chypchar

      Chapter 1

      Francesca stood up in the boat and pointed to the pier.

      There’s a man waving at us, she said.

      Summer scanned the dock. It’s my dad! she said, leaping out of the boat. Summer ran down the pier, weaving through a rabble of knapsack-laden tourists. She left her cousin Francesca and their friend Arabella lounging in Francesca’s wooden lakeboat near the Lake Como ferry terminal.

      Summer stopped short of the bench her father was standing behind. She wanted to read the expression on his face. Her dad was standing tall in his white polo shirt, smiling. Summer took a deep breath and ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

      I knew you’d come back to us, she said, whispering into his sleeve. She loosened her hold and looked up into her father’s sunglasses, seeing her own reflection. She scanned the crowded pier. Where’s Mom? she said.

      I asked her to give us some time alone. Summer didn’t like the sound of this but maybe her dad wanted to apologize to them individually. I wanted to say I’m sorry, he said, as if reading her mind.

      Summer sighed and hugged her father tighter. I accept your apology, Dad, she said. The main thing is that you’re with us now.

      Summer’s father pried himself from his daughter’s hold. He removed his sunglasses and cleaned the lenses on his white polo shirt. Summer looked at her father, wondering what was going on.

      Dad, we should have a special dinner. You could cook it, she said. Her father pointed to the empty bench on the dock.

      Let’s sit down here, he said. Tourists were boarding a ferryboat and the bench was now free. Summer’s father sat down and folded his hands together and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Summer, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but I’m not staying, he said.

      A loud hum poured into Summer’s ears, drowning out her father’s words. A storm took her stomach, rushing in grief and pain. Summer stood up. Why was everything blurry? She took one step forward and bolted, leaving her father on the pier. Francesca and Arabella had watched the whole scene from the boat. They jumped onto the dock and ran after Summer. Summer’s dad slowly rose. Francesca skimmed his arm as she darted past.

      Summer, wait! Francesca yelled.

      Summer didn't wait. She ran past the Saturday morning market stands of vegetable and fruit vendors. She toppled a cart of onions, spilling them onto the road. Francesca and Arabella danced around the rolling onions. The market vendor yelled at the girls. Francesca apologized, promising they'd be back to pay. The vendor waved his hand in disbelief, Sure they'd be back.

      Summer raced up the hill to her home, jumping two stairs at a time to the second floor of the house she and her mother rented. Francesca and Arabella had caught up and were at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the railing, trying to catch their breath. Summer didn’t even see them. She burst through the front door, shot past her startled mother, and fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She fell over the toilet and vomited.

      A small car pulled up to the house and parked. Summer’s dad got out of the vehicle and walked up the steps past Francesca and Arabella. Summer’s mother emerged from the house and met him on the veranda. She could imagine what had transpired.

      Nice work, Philip, she said. And you just walked by our niece Francesca, Matteo's daughter.

      Summer’s father turned to Francesca. I’m sorry, I didn't recognize you, he said looking at his niece.

      Girls, please wait outside, said Summer’s mother in Italian to Francesca and Arabella. They nodded and sat down on the steps.

      Summer was still in the bathroom but could hear her father’s voice outside. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to calm down. She placed her ear against the bathroom door, wanting to hear what her parents were saying. Her father spoke first.

      I’m sorry, her father said. There was a long pause. Summer heard her father sigh. Do you think I should say goodbye now?

      She’s sick in the bathroom. Not the best time, said Summer’s mother.

      Will she be ok?

      She has to be. We all do.

      My plane leaves this afternoon. I’ve got to go, he said.

      Summer heard her father walk down the steps outside their house and then the car engine start. He pulled away, leaving Lake Como. The door handle to the bathroom turned. Summer was still on the floor. She shuffled away from the toilet.

      Summer, it’s me, said her mother. Please, let me in. Summer turned her back to the door and wrapped her arms around her knees. She didn't want to look at anyone and she didn't want anyone to see her face. Summer’s mother entered and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. She stroked Summer’s hair.

      Dad’s gone now, but he’ll call later. It’s going to be ok.

      Summer turned and looked at her mom. What did you do to chase Dad away?

      What do you mean?

      Dad wouldn’t have just gone to this other woman and left us. Summer was referring to the news she had received before about her dad having fallen in love with an old girlfriend of his.

      Summer’s mother shook her head. Summer, he did leave us.

      But it takes two people to have a relationship problem.

      Yes, it does, but sometimes it weighs heavily on one side.

      I’m not going to make that mistake when I grow up.

      What mistake?

      Picking a guy who’s in love with someone else. Summer cupped her hand to her mouth. She had done it again. She had blurted something hurtful without thinking, just like the time she had hurt her cousin Francesca. In anger, Summer had accused Francesca of gloating over the divorce. This was especially hurtful to Francesca whose mother had died two years ago. Francesca wouldn’t wish any kind of loss on Summer. And now Summer had done it again, blurting out insensitive words at a person she loved, this time, her own mother. Summer knew this about herself. Whenever she was in pain she would lash out, not thinking of the consequences. It was hard to control this anger.

      Do you need to spend the rest of the day with Francesca and Arabella? said her mother, her eyes welling with tears. We can have a break from each other. Summer didn’t want a break from her mother. Her mother was the only one she had. Summer burst into tears again.

      Mom, I’m so sorry, she said, grabbing her mother. Summer could count on her mom. They would always talk out their problems. And Summer’s mom would never give her the cold shoulder. Sure, it was natural to want to get away from your parents sometimes, but it was the worst kind of isolation having your parents ignore you as a punishment.

      Chapter 2

      Summer and her mother emerged from the bathroom. Francesca and Arabella were sitting on the couch in the living room. When they saw Summer’s father leave, they ran back up the stairs. Francesca was the first to speak.

      Are you ok? she said.

      Summer nodded. She blew her nose in a tissue and rubbed her eyes.

      Arabella stood up and hugged Summer. I am very sad for you, she said in English. Summer closed her eyes tight. She didn’t want to cry any more. She could hardly breathe.

      I’m going to make some tea, said Summer’s mother. She entered their kitchenette and placed a pot of water on the stove. She had a stash of dried chamomile flowers in a glass jar on the counter. When the pot came to a boil, she took a tiny dry bouquet and immersed it in the water.

      I’m making a chamomile tea from the flowers, she said. It will help calm our nerves and stomachs.

      I want some too, please, said Arabella.

      Me too, said Francesca. Summer smiled. She knew that Francesca and Arabella were trying to make her feel better by taking the remedy with her. Summer’s mother took four teacups out of the cupboard. The girls each pulled a bar stool up to the counter and watched Summer’s mother carefully pour the fragrant water into the teacups.

      For a change, said Summer’s mother, I have some good news.

      Summer blew her nose. I could use some good news right now.

      Remember Dr. Agostina from the museum in Como? She showed you the artifacts from Pompeii. Summer nodded. She remembered how an ancient city in southern Italy was preserved in lava from a volcanic eruption 2000 years ago. Summer suddenly felt very sad for everyone who had died that day. All those families, friends, and pets. Summer had been so preoccupied with her own life that she hadn’t paid attention to the exhibit from Pompeii. It was funny how you could remember something and feel sadness you hadn’t felt before.

      Yes, I remember, said Summer, trying not to cry again.

      Dr. Agostina wants me to do some work for her in Rome this week.

      Rome? Where will I stay? said Summer.

      Sweetie, I’m taking you, Francesca, and Arabella with me. I already spoke with Francesca’s father.

      You asked him before you even told me? said Summer.

      Hey, what about me? said Francesca. I didn’t know and he’s my dad.

      I wanted to know how many tickets to arrange.

      Tickets for what? said Summer.

      The high-speed train, said Summer’s mother. She looked at Arabella and spoke in Italian. "I realize that

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