Elle Joyner

Moop.
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
Online Availability
8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
Writing Levels
  1. Prestige
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
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Paris...

Everyone called it the City of Love, but as far as Elodie Summers was concerned, Paris had nothing on Venice. The city was enrapturing, bright and shining, a paragon of culture and art, romanticism apparent in every corner. It was like being transported to a different time, a simpler time. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of her head, Elodie looked out across the teal-green canal, at the Gondola making lazy progress beneath the arch of the Ponte del Vin. The couple within the boat sat side by side, staring with loving concentration to their cellphones in their laps.

Maybe not every corner, then.

Shaking her head, Elodie plucked up her suitcase and turned down the narrow alley towards the Hotel Danieli. It was better than she’d expected, certainly better than the google search would have her believing. It possessed an old world charm in the red facade building, elements of an almost middle-eastern nature in the white pointed archways over the windows and doors. Outside in the square, several carts were set up, boisterous merchants calling out in Italian, peddling everything from tourist t-shirts and caps, to authentic Venetian pottery, to sweet fritters or spiced Moleche. She was entranced by the sights, the smells, the sophisticated resonance of the language.

Heart pounding with anticipation, she approached the hotel doors, but as she stepped through and into the magnificent lobby, pale pink and white marble glistening beneath the gold framed skylights overhead, she was met with an impressive force, knocking her to the ground with a solid thud.

“Vincenzio! Quante volte ti ho detto di non scappare da me? Le mie scuse, signorina. Il ragazzo sembra aver dimenticato come comportarsi.” As rapid Italian poured forth from the woman, making swift work of the red carpeted steps, Elodie looked to the source of her unfortunate collision. He appeared about nine or ten, a bean-pole of a thing, with a thick head of jet black hair and brows to match, set comically high over deep, proturbant, espresso brown eyes. There were freckles over just about ever inch of his round, Cherub face and along his long, gangly arms. He wore a cable-knit sweater, the sleeves rolled up to his bony elbows and tan slacks, shiny black shoes enclosed around feet too big for his scrawny, elf like body- the sort of thing her mother would dress her brother in… the sort of outfit no child belonged in.

His expression was sheepish, his speckled cheeks flushed red, and toeing the marble floor uncomfortably, he looked down at his shoes. Elodie smiled faintly and pushed herself upright, just as the woman made her way to the foyer

“Mie scuse…” She repeated, and Elodie shook her head, waving her off.

“It’s fine… Really. I should have--”

“English?” The woman interjected, and Elodie nodded politely.

“Oh, thank God.” Breathing out, raking her fingers through her hair, she smiled. She was a wisp of a thing, too, like the boy, but fair where he was dark, with long blond hair pulled back in a tight braid and cool blue eyes. Her skintone cried for sunlight, a frigid pallor that made her look ill and she was dressed in a mousy blue dress that attributed little to her frame. Her voice was sharp and snappish, but her smile was warm enough, “It’s been ages since I talked to anyone from back home! I’m supposed to speak ‘only Italian’ about Vincenzio, but I know I’m butchering the syntax.”

Chuckling, Elodie shrugged, “It sounded alright to me, but I took eight years of French and still can’t do much more than ask someone to pass the butter. You’re his nanny?” She asked, gesturing to the boy.

“I am. He’s a pain in the ass, but don’t tell him I said that.” Ruffling the boy’s hair, the woman smiled, “Course I’m pretty sure he understands me, anyway, right Vinny?”

Turning bright eyes up at the woman, Vincenzio shrugged, but a glint in his eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely wrong in her assumptions. Elodie chuckled and bent down to pick up her suitcase, “Well, no worries about our little crash. Honestly, I’m fine. Knocked me out of my stupor, anyway…”

“Long trip?”

“And gorgeous… I’m transfixed, really.”

“Eh. It wears on you, all this.” Waving her arm, the woman shrugged, “See enough marble tiles and naked statues and eventually they all look the same. Listen… I hate to ask you this, but would you… Would you mind keeping an eye on Vinny for a second? I just remembered my purse is upstairs and I’d rather take the elevator. He’s scared of them… small spaces or something. I’ll be quicker if he stays here.”

Blinking, Elodie looked to the boy, who only stared at her, but apprehensively, she gave a nod, “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

“Great! Thanks… I’ll be down quick as possible.” And with the same swiftness she’d exhibited coming down the stairs, she made a dash for the elevators. Elodie turned her eyes back down to Vincenzio and flashed a smile as she crouched down to meet his gaze.

“I’m Elodie. Do you speak any English?”

“Yeah. But… but I’m not supposed to.” The eloquency threw her for a moment, and laughing softly, Elodie nodded.

“I think I understand. Your parents don’t approve?”

“My dad.” He muttered, shuffling his foot back and forth on the floor, “My mom’s gone.”

“Oh.” Frowning softly, Elodie straightened up, “I’m sorry.”

“...It’s okay. I don’t really remember her much. Are you staying her?” He asked, gesturing to her suitcase.

“I am.” Smiling, she nodded, “I’ll be here all week.”

Looking suddenly pensive… too pensive for a kid his age, Vincenzio shifted foot to foot, “We… we’re leaving soon. Dad’s on buisness, down in Delphi. Once he gets back, we’ll go home.”

“Where are you--”

“You shouldn’t ask too many questions.” He said, rather suddenly, “Lots of people around here… they’re nosy. Can’t talk about stuff you want to...” His eyes danced past Elodie, and looking over her shoulder, she noticed the pair behind the check in counter, watching them. Turning her eyes back to Vincenzio, she frowned.

“...Are you alright, Vinny?” Because when she looked at him again, she noticed in the wideness of his eyes a certain trace of fear, but as she spoke he blinked and it was gone, his expression falling even again.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Ginny’s back…” He pointed and Elodie glanced around to see the nanny leaving the elevator. She approached, looking slightly haggard, but smiled pleasantly enough and reached to take Vinny’s hand. Rolling his eyes, Vinny tugged it free again, jamming it into the pocket of his pants.

“Thanks so much.” Ginny said, “We’ve got to head out. But maybe we’ll see you at dinner! Caio.”

“Caio…” Elodie gave a wave as the pair left the lobby and chuckling, shook her head before moving to the check-in desk.

The Terrazza Danieli was lauded to be one of the best restaurants in Venice, and in truth, the rumors were not unfounded. That evening, the chef had prepared a tortelli filled with rabbit and cabbage in a sage butter sauce that Elodie was almost certain had forever ruined her on pasta. She had eaten every bite of the luxurious, glamorous plate and she was working her way through an earth shattering millefeuille when a small hand looped around her wrist, interrupting the shear bliss.

Looking down, she was a little surprised to find Vinny staring up at her, “Hey.” She started, but frowned at the expression he wore, all too reminiscent of that fear she had briefly glimpsed that morning “...What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.” Looking over his shoulder, he stepped closer, his voice lowering, “You can’t tell anyone, though.”

“...Sure, sweetie. What is it?”

“...I think… I think I’m in trouble.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing… yet. But I think--”

“Vincenzio!” Ginny’s familiar voice erupted over the younger boy, and he trailed off as he spun around to face his nanny’s irritated expression, “I am so sorry, Miss. I swear, he’s never like this!”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind. Is… is he okay? He said he was in trouble?”

“He’s fine.” Her hand came down on Vinny’s shoulder and the boy glared up at the woman, “Just likes attention. Let's go, Vinny.”

They wandered off, and as she watched them go, Elodie shook her head. It wasn't a far stretch, the idea that he needed attention.

“Poor kid…” She sighed, returning to her dessert.

Later that evening, following a long walk around the city, Elodie found herself back in the lobby of the hotel, at an ethical standstill. Something about Vinny’s words had stuck with her through the remainder of her meal, and throughout her trek through town and clung now to her thoughts with avengeance.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she made her way to check-in, but at the late hour, found it abandoned. It seemed, in fact, that most of the hotel was elsewhere and with a frown, she leaned over the desk, to see if anyone was lingering in the back office.

“Hello? Anyone back there??”

She called again, but with no reply, decided instead to head to her room. Upon arriving, she pushed open the door and slid out of her jacket, hanging it behind the door. She was somehow not entirely surprised to find the folded letter lying on the ground by her feet and bending to retrieve it, read the two words, scrawled in small, rounded handwriting.

Ask Rossi

A brow lifted and shaking her head, Elodie folded the note and stuck it into her jacket pocket, then moved to the restroom to change.

Elodie had not slept well. She had been tired enough, but inexplicably, found herself tossing and turning throughout the night. Eventually, around eight in the morning, exhaustion won out and she drifted off, but not fifteen minutes after her eyes closed, a scream pierced through the silence of the hotel and Elodie shot upright in bed.

Not ten minutes later, in a robe and bare feet, Elodie found herself standing outside of Ginevra Sirico’s room, watching the Polizia de Stato roll the body towards the elevator. Ginny was found that morning by a maid, delivering room service. She had been strangled, her body discarded in the hotel tub…

All attempts to ask about Vinny had gone to little avail… no one spoke English, and Elodie was losing her composure as she looked over the shoulders of the other concerned hotel guests, trying to glimpse the room. His voice, so small and desperate, echoed in her mind until tears burned in her eyes...

"I think I'm in trouble..."
 
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The man in the sleek black tux stood waiting by the grand doorways of the Hotel Danieli. With his arms crossed and a tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, he watched the cobblestone street in front of the hostel with striking blue eyes. A bellhop plays an important part in a successful hotel, Belissimo...you know that. You are responsible for every guest's first impression!

Ugh...his aunt always spoke to him with such Italian vigor and enthusiasm that she never had difficulty making Rossi feel emasculated. For the fourth time in six months, Rossi approached his aunt about transferring from his position as a glorified steward to a more suitable job in the kitchen of the the Terranza.

She turned him down of course...though Rossi knew he couldn't fully blame her for the decision, as consistent as she was becoming at making it. He wasn't historically trustworthy after all.

Rossi had been so engrossed in his reflection that it had been the other bellhop who snapped him back to reality. Guests were arriving and Rossi had to make sure their first impression was great. He brandished a handsome smile while he made his way down the red carpeted steps to greet the duo--an obvious foreigner and a young boy.

"Welcome to Hotel Danieli." Rossi spoke with an Italian accent he was capable of switching on and off like a light switch. The wiry woman dressed in blue smiled and introduced her and the child in broken Italian. Ah tourists, he thought. Rossi took their bags and walked them towards the door, answering whatever questions the woman had about the Danieli with a fabricated enthusiasm that was always received well by her type.

As they entered the white marble lobby, Rossi felt relief at the woman leaving him to go check in...but soon he found himself in an awkward silence along side the child. The handsome bellhop's blue eyes look down at the boy hesitantly, before quickly looking back up and then back down to him again.

Ah fuck it, he thought.


Setting down their bags he dropped to one knee so that he could be as close to eye level with the young boy as possible. Vinny looked at him apprehensively in response, his brown eye growing wide like a doe in headlights. Rossi smiled and offered him a single white gloved hand.

"Ciao. Il mio nome è Rossi." The bellhop introduced lightly. Vinny's refused to respond and Rossi wondered what had a child so on edge. He cleared his throat and tried once more, guessing that maybe the child did not know Italian. "Er...would you prefer I speak in English then? Vinny?"

"...I'm supposed to speak Italian." He suddenly answered timidly, with an accent just as American as Rossi's.

"Hah...you're not alone there bud." Rossi grinned after recovering from the initial surprise at Vinny's eloquency. The bellhop brought a hand up to the side of his mouth as he feigned a secretive whisper. "My boss says I'm supposed to do the exact same thing. It's awfully annoying, I know."

A small smile found Vinny's lips and Rossi could not help but reflect it with his own. But then Ginevra called out for him and the child's expression shifted immediately. Rossi stood straight as well and was prepared to pick up the bag when the foreign woman intervened.

"Oh! Oh...non la sua fine posso portarlo!" Ginevra insisted.

"Ah...yes signora." He replied reluctantly, Vinny's behavior was rather questionable after all. Rossi handed her the bag and the duo shortly made off for the elevator. The bellhop turned to head back to his post when Vinny's voice from across the lobby stopped him in his tracks.

"Can Rossi come with us on the elevator..? Please?" He asked, a child-like desperation in his soft spoken voice. Rossi turned and was met with a bewildered look from the woman in the blue dress. Ginevra stammered for a moment, looking down at the child who's hand she held firmly in her's. She gave in.

So Rossi turned and followed them in suit, staying close to Vinny during the duration of the elevator ride and even afterwards while they made their way through the hallway. It was an odd feeling Rossi felt as he watched the duo and their outlandish mannerisms. When they finally came to the room however, Vinny still seemed reluctant to see Rossi go.

Ginevra tipped him after he helped settle them in but Rossi had one last thing to do before he went. Bending down to one knee once more, he spoke directly to Vinny in his American accent. "Look, if you personally need anything just call the front desk and ask for Rossi. That's R-O-S-S-I. You call and I'll come by as soon as I'm able...alright?"

That seemed like it was enough to ease some of Vinny's worries. Seeing the hints of a smile on the boy's lips, Rossi stood back straight. He then said his farewells to Ginevra before leaving the both of them to their devices.

As the day passed away, Rossi saw Vinny and Ginevra a few more times. They came down to eat at the Terranza and Rossi smiled as a bellhop should when they passed by him. After lunch, the duo seemingly went back up to their room and later on Rossi went home to get some rest for his next morning shift.


When he woke up the next day and made his way to work, Rossi had no idea what he was about to walk into. The Polizia de Stato were parked outside and immediately, Rossi could feel his stomach sink. He ran into the lobby, dialing his aunt as he made his way to the elevator.

In quick flustered Italian, his aunt got him up to speed. Somebody had been murdered in the very room he dropped Vinny off the day before.

As he approached the hotel room he was greeted by a crowd of civilians and police alike. With his icy blue eyes wide with worry he spoke out, first in English and then in Italian when no one else was listening to him.

"She had a kid with her! HEY! Is he in there? Dov'è il bambino?!" Rossi shouted loudly and soon enough some of the policemen forced him to calm down. They redirected him back towards the lobby and it was there where he began to pace in worry. Rossi had seen plenty of horrible things in his life but murder? That's was something else entirely...

But there was one thing in particular that worried him. Where was Vinny?

 
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She'd been prepared to give up. It was startlingly easy for the young Georgia Peach to walk away from a difficult situation, after all, and Elodie had plenty of practice with it. Vincenzio would haunt her, certainly, and no doubt it would take her some time before she was able to shake him from her thoughts, but at the end of the end it wasn't her place to meddle in affairs where police were concerned. Yet his words kept resonating and the feeling of tightness in her chest only got worse and worse.

Then she heard it, cutting over the crowd... the exclamation, first in English, then Italian. The expulsion of relief she felt at hearing the man's concerns was unexpectedly powerful and putting a hand to her chest, Elodie sank back against the wall for a moment to collect her thoughts. It occurred to her that the man could be trouble. If Vinny had run? If he'd gotten away and she somehow intervened in his escape... But that was ultimately ludicrous. What happened to Ginny was unfortunate, but it was ridiculous to think that there was foul play involved beyond the obvious.

Yet she couldn't shake it. The feeling she'd had, that had clung to her all night as tightly as Vinny had her wrist in the restaurant. He was scared... twice, she had seen it clearly across his speckled face and in those enormous brown eyes. No. Ginny's murder and Vincenzio's disappearance weren't coincidental. There was a connection, and whatever her natural inclination was to flee the disaster she had stumbled into, she owed it to the boy to at least try and find out what that connection was.

Gently nudging through the crowd, she approached the man and gingerly, apprehensively, she reached out, her hand shaking as it touched his arm, her voice a tentative whisper, "Are... are you Rossi...?"
 
He spun around at the sensation of being touched, perhaps a bit too quickly, and he soon apologized for how abrupt or jarring his reaction might have come across. Adam Rossi looked at her confusedly as her question settled in though. For a moment he tried to see if he recognized her face...perhaps from earlier during the morning or sometime else.

But no--she was a complete stranger...yet, one who knew his name. For a moment he thought the worse and wondered if the pretty stranger along with Vincenzio's disappearance and Ginevra's murder were signs that his past was catching up to him. But rationality soon set in and Rossi knew that if that was the case than it would've been him dead in that room rather than a foreign nanny. He cleared his throat, not bothering to put on his typical novel Italian accent reserved for American guests.

"That would be me...why do you ask?"
 
Why do you ask...

It was a loaded question, one that Elodie wasn't entirely sure she even had an answer to. Why did she ask? Why was she inserting herself into any of this business. As far as she was concerned, she was a hotel guest who had been briefly and harmlessly accosted by a young boy with the need for attention. While she felt bad for Vinny and knew ultimately whether he was safe or not, he was going to have a lot on his plate, what could she possible do?

And that's what she should have said to the stranger she had been pointed to, in Vinny's letter. But she didn't. Instead, she took his hand and carefully guided him away from the crowd, to the edge of the stairwell where they weren't likely to be overheard, "...Vinny. I... I knew him. Well, I know him, so to speak... but I met him yesterday, down in the lobby. Ginny asked me to keep an eye on him for a few minutes." Swallowing, she looked past him, to the crowd again, “He… approached me again last night at dinner. Told me he was in trouble.”

As her expression shifted,and fresh tears blurred her vision again as she continued, “I think he knew something was going to happen. He… he left me a note telling me to ‘'ask Rossi’. I didn't know what it meant, but I thought if you were looking for him… Maybe… you knew?”
 
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What could he have possibly known? Rossi was fully aware of the promise he had made to the missing boy but what Vincenzio was asking of him was too much. He had simply been doing his job and now he had been dragged into whatever wicked plot was at works. What would have happened if the police had found the note instead of her? His mind ran through the various scenarios of whats and hows before he realized that the stranger in front of him began to tear.

"Ah..." His voice trailed off. While it definitely wasn't the first time he stood in front of a woman in tears, Rossi was never sure what was the right way to go about it. He cleared his throat, taking her hand like she had previously taken his and led her to the elevator. "I do not know all the answers...but I'm willing to speak with you on what I do know."

He opened the elevator and led her inside. Rossi was quick to close the door afterwards so that no one else could have the opportunity to join them in the space. He cast a concerned look her way before trailing upwards to the security camera in the corner. Knowing his aunt failed to update security in the life to the point of catching audio, Rossi turned so his lips wouldn't be able to be read.

"We must talk elsewhere. If what I'm thinking is true than there is no way to know if the men who did this have already left."

Rossi knew the Danieli like the back of his hands. There were few ways to go about transporting a child who was unwillingly taken...but if Vinny knew the attackers personally...than maybe he left without struggle. If that was the case Vinny could've just walked out the front door with Ginevra's murderers without so much as a second thought from the doormen considering hid kidnappers were at least a little competent.

The duo stepped out into the lobby and he asked her to wait by the door while he made his way behind the front desk. Ignoring his fellow employee's concerned whispers he made his way to security room. He made a copy of the tapes knowing that the police would soon come here as well and than rejoined her in the lobby after tucking them away safely.

Rossi's eyes scanned her from head to toe--it was easy to tell that she was distressed. But as always, he had his suspicions. He approached her while he straightened the collar of his uniform. Rossi frowned, his blue eyes concerned. "Look--I can handle it from here if this is becoming too much for you miss. I wouldn't blame you for bowing out while you can."
 
And she should have said yes. She should have left it in the man's capable hands, gone back upstairs to dress and played out the rest of her vacation without a second thought to unfortunate circumstances and missing boys. She was sure if she raised enough of a fuss they would get her a different hotel, and surely after a day or two she could manage to recover her positive energy and get back to exploring the wonders of Venice.

She had watched him from her position in front of the lifts, watched as he moved through the lobby and to the desk, behind it and into the office there beyond. There was a purpose to the steps he took, a sense of familiarity. This wasn't the first time he had handled a stressful situation - that much was clear, just from his posture, his tone of voice. He was, perhaps, more accustomed to it than she would ever be, and more than capable of handling things.

She should have said yes and walked away. But instead, inexplicably, Elodie found herself shaking her head, "No. I... I want to help. I should have listened. Helped him last night when he told me was in trouble. I should have listened. But I... I thought he was just reaching for attention." Fiddling with the small lace fridge around the hem of her robe, Elodie looked up at the bellhop, "I'm Elodie, by the way. Elodie Summers."
 
He only realized now that he hadn't given her the opportunity to get properly dressed, suddenly Rossi felt a tad embarrassed at how strong-armed he had been when he brought her down to the lobby. Rossi had taken the situation by the reins and he had a tendency to forget just how tightly he grasped them. The bellhop shook his head and apologized.

"My apologies then, Miss Summers. If you're really committed to helping me I'm afraid I can't let you go back to your room to change...at least not until I'm certain whoever did this has left the Danieli." Rossi explained calmly. He took off his jacket while doing so before promptly wrapping it around her shoulders. The bellhop took a step back before looking down at her bare feet.

Had a boy not been missing, Rossi could almost laugh at how certain things managed to escape him while he was focused on other matters. "Er. Give me a second." The bellhop turned on his heel and jogged over to the front desk once more, coming up a moment later with a pair of hotel slippers. Not exactly made for walking Venice's streets but better than nothing, he thought.

Rossi handed his companion the footwear and soon they were off.
A twenty minute morning walk later, the duo stood at the front of the Palladio Pallazo--a small but traditionally charming apartment building that sat along the same road as the hotel. Ignoring the implications of bringing a beautiful woman into his home, he led Elodie pass the judgmental front desk woman and up two flights of stairs.

Entering his apartment was a bit of an odd transition. While the exterior and general interior of the building were historically 'Italian' so to speak his personal home was one of rather contemporary furniture. Adam retained the general white and beige color scheme though he had splashes of colors in the form of paintings of 1960 music acts and a tasteful violet red fur rug. An acoustic guitar hooked up to an amp rested on the couch. Rossi placed the tapes on the coffee table amid a bunch of scattered papers before turning to Elodie.

"I'm going to change if you don't mind." He noted as he gestured to his uniform. "The VCR is underneath the T.V there, why don't you go ahead and get started on yesterday's tape?" Rossi suggested before leaving her to his devices, forgetting the fact that he carelessly left his Glock-17 on one of the glass side tables.
 
Her mother would have had her head on a silver platter - served it with a fine wine and used the good China if she ever found out Elodie had left the hotel, let alone her room, wearing her nightgown and robe. The slippers, belonging to the hotel, would have put the woman in an early grave. It was embarrassing, but considering the circumstances, and the note of concern in the man, Rossi's, voice, she wasn't going to argue the value of modesty. He gave her his jacket, and she supposed for the time being it was going to have to do.

Pulling it closed around her frame, she stepped into the slippers and shaking her head with a finicky frown, followed him from the elevators to the door. It wasn't a long walk to his apartment, but it was long enough for her to work up a sense of mortification, and she was only too grateful when they were once again out of the public eye. Stepping inside, she glanced around, taking in the odd collection of personalities within the place with a small, curious smile. She had never had a place of her own, but she imagined if she did it would look somewhat disjointed in it's decorating as well... old world and new...

"Sure..." She concluded, when he mentioned changing, and she gave a small glance down at her own wardrobe with a soft sigh before sinking in front of the television center. She found the VCR, and there were several minutes where she fiddled with buttons before she managed to get the contraption to start. Finally, the speckled, grainy film began and pulling herself upright again, Elodie sank down on the couch.

Her eyes moved briefly the weapon sitting on the side table and a brow quirked as, for a moment, she considered what exactly she was getting herself wrapped up in. It occurred to her in that moment that Rossi could very well have been anyone, including the man responsible for Ginny's death. If he thought that she had information...

Pulling her gaze back to the television, she forced herself to watch the video, instead but her heart beat a little faster in her chest, all the same.



 
Rossi went up to the loft to change and came down in a simple white shirt and distressed jeans combo. In his arms was a larger and more comfortable rain coat that he extended towards his guest. It was larger and would help her cover herself a little better. Not to say he disliked what he was seeing...it just seemed like the right thing to do. To be honest the bellhop was surprised that she insisted on coming.

He noticed his firearm on the side table shortly after she accepted his coat. Cursing himself silently for being so careless he picked it up, checked the safety and tucked it into the back of his pants. He hid virtually nothing about the action and casually walked over to the other couch following it.

He didn't know anything about the woman beyond her name but at least now he knew she wasn't working for someone from his past. If she was there was no way she would've let him get a hold of his gun after leaving it exposed like that. His eyes glanced at the grainy security film. Rossi saw himself standing outside the Danieli, right before Ginevra and Vincenzio arrived. His gaze then transitioned from the screen to the woman sitting across from him.

"There's at least forty eight hours worth of footage here you know. I don't expect you to help me dig through it all." He began with a sigh. "But uh...until the crowd clears out back at the hotel feel free to make yourself home."

He shook the back of his head sheepishly after turning back to the screen--which was now showing him answer Ginevra's questions back in the lobby. He focused on the young boy who, at the time, followed them sluggishly. Vinny didn't want to be there, Rossi thought before something occurred to him. "Er..Elodie, do you know what time they found the body? I only arrived shortly before we met."
 
She'd seen enough people in black tie apparel in her life to know that it wasn't a hard look to pull of... but somehow, Rossi seemed to make jeans and a t-shirt look better than a tux. For several second, she found herself staring... and while she might have blamed it on concern or suspicion the fact of the matter was, he was a decent looking man...

But there were more important things at hand, and it wasn't likely she'd even see him again, once they figured out where Vinny had wound up.

He held out the coat and with a polite smile, Elodie took it and replaced the tux jacket, slinging it over the arm of the couch. Looking up again, as she belted the waist, she noticed him retrieve the handgun and for a moment, tension rolled through her in a discomforting wave. But he only tucked it behind him, turning his attention to the video.

It was a lot to comb through, and the more he suggested to her she didn't need to assisst the more she wondered if she even needed to be there, but she nevertheless found herself settled back down on the couch, hands folded in her lap.

"If I don't help, I'll never be able to enjoy myself. Honestly, I don't mind." Her eyes followed his back to the screen and she frowned at the sight of the boy and his nanny... Disturbing how quickly something could go wrong...

"Maybe eight... Earlier, I guess. That's just when the maid screamed. Woke me... and I went right away to see what happened..."
 
The security tape was now showing Rossi's exchange with Vinny in the lobby. He felt a hit to his chest. There were a million things that could've happened to explain Ginevra's death and Vinny's disappearance...but for some reason the child's last act of defiance was asking for him. Rossi knew it would only be a few days before law enforcement sent someone their way. Elodie and Rossi were one of the last people to interact with the child after all.

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of speaking with police and, suddenly urging to do something to distract him from the situation, the bellhop stood up. "I know Vinny was safe for the rest of the morning, go ahead and find the tape when you first met him. I'm just gonna go cook something...you haven't gotten a chance to eat after all."

Without waiting for anything along the lines of a decline he moved from the couches over to the kitchen. He had a decent view of the T.V from where he stood whipping the eggs in a brightly colored bowl.

Truthfully, Rossi didn't expect to find many answers in the tapes. He just needed a direction to go.

If it turned out his assumptions were right than there were always his contacts but Rossi refused to call them until Elodie was back at the hotel. He would not involve her in that. Taking out a frying pan and coating the bottom with a layer of olive oil he spoke up form behind the counters. "Did you notice anything odd about the two when you met them? Anything that stood out in particular?"
 
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When he suggested breakfast, it occurred to Elodie just how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten since the night prior and despite the stressful morning there was a twinge of discomfort in her stomach that smoothed at the thought of a meal.

Nodding politely, she turned her attention to the tapes. It took a few tries, but eventually she figured out how to work the VCR and rolling through the footage she moved past the first few hours or so, on to her own arrival.

She watched herself enter, and the embarrassing collision with the boy, but something in the scene caught her eye and straightening, she paused. She had toppled pretty difinitively to her backside, and so it was little wonder she had been fairly thoroughly distracted, but seeing it now, she almost felt foolish...

Pausing the tape, she glanced up to Rossi, "He kept looking back at the desk... I didn't know why, but look. Before he ran into me. He was talking to someone in the back office. I can only see the feet, but it's definitely not Ginny. She was wearing Minolo Blahniks. Dated a few years, but I recognized the ankle strap... My friend Kim was obsessed. These aren't the right heels. He seemed so scared... When I first talked to him. I just thought..." Looking down at her hands, she sniffed softly, as the tears she'd been holding in all morning threatened to break, "I just thought he was afraid of getting in trouble."
 
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Rossi watched Elodie with curiosity as she fumbled with the VCR. He let muscle memory take control of his cooking and for a moment he considered advising the woman, but she managed to figure it out. In between scrambling the eggs and chopping fresh basil he didn't see much of what his companion was watching but when Elodie spoke she had his full and utmost attention.

As a bellhop, Rossi had seen plenty kinds of tourists most tended to be unobservant. He was glad to see that Elodie differed on that matter and was immediately conflicted when he could hear the slightest of her sniffling over the sound of the eggs frying.

He finished the finely cooked scrambled egg with fresh basil and a light amount of grated Parmesan and quickly plated. Rossi placed it on the dining table before approaching Elodie. For a moment his blue eyes hesitantly took in the sight of a woman on the verge of tears. He had never been good at comforting women...but he had to try.

Carefully, Rossi placed a coarse hand against her shoulder. He waited for the woman to look up at him before he spoke. "Look...whatever happened is not your fault." He paused, taking a moment to glance at the grainy still on the TV screen.

"This was a good catch Elodie and better yet...it's a start." Rossi offered the woman a handsome smile before gesturing towards the kitchen. "Now c'mon, with the way all the cooking has the apartment smelling you're probably dying to eat."

He waited for her to get up before taking her place on the couch. He was reviewing the tapes when a call on the landline grabbed his immediate attention. It was his aunt. A quick, flurry of irritated Italian resonated from the phone--loud enough so that both people in the room could hear it. "Sei fottuto serio?" Rossi responded, disbelief and anger alike dominating his tone.

Had there not been an already emotionally distressed woman just a few feet away from him, Rossi could've punched a damn hole through the drywall. His expression softened but remained tense as he turned back to Elodie. "You need to finish up and get back to the hotel. My aunt..."

Rossi's voice trailed off as he looked for the proper words to explain his anger. The bellhop just shook his head and reaffirmed the fact that the tourist needed to leave soon. He didn't know how to tell Elodie that his own family just accused him of murder to the police, but he sure as hell didn't want her to be around when they arrived for him.
 
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It was funny... in all twenty-six years of life, Elodie couldn't think of one specific time that her mother or father had comforted her when she was upset. They were the sort of people who coined phrases like 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger' and 'it builds character'. Time and time again, she had been let down by the world, but instead of sympathy, she would receive a life lesson or lecture, and for so long she had just assumed it was the normal reaction to circumstances that when she finally got away from them, she was shocked to find just how wrong she was.

But even now, knowing that, there was something so strange... so unexpected about being comforted by a stranger. Looking up at Rossi, she nodded, managing a small, watery smile as she gave his hand on her shoulder a pat. She was all too grateful for the gesture and even more so at the offer to eat. When he shoo'd her into the kitchen to find the meal he'd made, she didn't hesitate and sitting down to eat, gave a small sigh of comfort as she pulled the plate towards her.

It was good - better than good, really, and she had no problem digging in as he resumed watch on the tapes. When the phone rang, she tried not to eavesdrop, but the sudden explosion of irate Italian was almost impossible to ignore. She'd already risen when he hung up and frowned softly at the sudden, unexpected dismissal.

"I... I can't leave." She stated plainly, gesturing to the tape still cued up on the television, "We haven't finished. You can't watch all of this by yourself... there's hours, yet. What... what happened?"

 
Rossi moved over to the television set, ejecting the tape and gathering it along with the rest. He turned over to Elodie, frowning as he gestured for her to take them from him.

"My aunt owns the Danieli and...we haven't always been on the greatest terms." The bellhop admitted, treading uncertainly with each word. He growled to himself however when he remembered the firearm tucked at his back. Rossi turned away from her once more, taking up the same efficiency in his movements he had when they first met.

Rossi took the glock and dissembled it with a distinct familiarity before scattering the different pieces around his apartment. Anything that could even possibly be considered incriminating or suspicious he had to get rid of.

That thought repeated and his head and once again Rossi found himself looking at Elodie. Maybe...just maybe he could use her presence to his advantage. Maybe they could figure out a lie to tell the cops; some alternative reason as to why they were together at this very moment. But no...Rossi couldn't bring himself to involve her like that.

"I've been...convicted--before. Not here in Italy, but that sort of thing doesn't just go unnoticed." He admitted.

"So my aunt pointed them towards me when they questioned her about Ginevra's death. She just told me they are on the way. Now I swear to you I didn't do anything to Vinny but you'd be surprised to see how law enforcement can force themselves into seeing what they want to see."

"That's why you need to go. The matter of the fact is, we were the last people Vinny and Ginevra interacted with -- a tourist and an ex-convict. I'm afraid if they find both of us together with security tapes just hours after a murder/kidnapping they'll end up jumping to conclusions." A poignant frown found his lips. "I can't let that happen, Elodie."

...not again, he continued on in silence.
 
It escalated so quickly, it was a small miracle that Elodie didn't end up with whiplash. One moment they were nearing a potential break, the next they were potential suspects? Or at least he was, but she knew well enough the implications that would be placed on her if she were found with him. There was no amount of guilt or subconscious need to prove oneself that could make that sort of sacrifice worth while. And she should have turned away right then and there and left his apartment. Returned to the hotel and allowed the whole situation to fall to rest.

But as she had when she'd declined his earlier offer to let him handle it, Elodie found her words betraying her common sense and rationality. She took the tapes and moving to the television, stacked them directly beside the set, then turning back to Rossi, shook her head, almost defiantly, "I'm not going anywhere. And you aren't taking the fall for something you didn't do."

She didn't have to believe him. There was a chance, after all, that he had committed the murder, but at the end of the day he'd had plenty of opportunities to do the same to her and hadn't, so it was all she could do to trust that there was some decency in the man, even when he told her about his past. Everyone had history they weren't proud of - and maybe his went deeper than shoplifting a pair of sunglasses or breaking into an abandoned home to drink a pilfered bottle of scotch whilst underage, but a man who was clinging to his past, without wanting to change would not have been concerned for a stranger becoming collateral damage.

"I have an idea..." She started and making a face, she undid the belt on the raincoat, holding it out to him. She removed the robe as well and tossed it haphazard onto the couch. Cheeks flushed, she crossed her arms over her chest and looking up, shrugged, "My mother will literally kill me for this... but it's the best bet we have. We met at the hotel... shortly after dinner and started chatting. You took me out for a tour of the city. One thing led to another and we came back here. We were here, all night. It won't work forever, but it might get them off our trail long enough to find out who really did this..."
 
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"I..uh..." Rossi stood at a lost for words. Up until this point she seemed the vulnerable woman but certainly not this type of vulnerable. The bellhop cleared his throat, trying to figure out if the woman was incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. She didn't have to involve herself like this but Elodie seemed determined to see things through. He admired that.

Rossi realized that he was gawking and quickly looked off to the side at the door. He swallowed hard before turning back to her with determination in his eyes. The plan could work but they would have to sell it--for Vinny's sake if not theirs. "Yeah, okay. That's what we'll tell them what happened."

The bellhop nodded before taking off his own shirt and casting it aside along with the rain coat. He chose to ignore the fact that his body was covered in scars of varying sizes and severity, hoping that his companion would do the same. He turned fully back to her. "Whatever happens just improvise alright? Oh, and...thanks for sticking around."

Suddenly, before either Rossi or Elodie were given the time to properly react, a shout came from his front door. It was the police. A mixture of instinct took over and without thinking of the consequences, Rossi pulled her into a passionate embrace...an embrace which only ended when the door was kicked wide open.

"Whoa..whoa!" Rossi shouted in confusion as two detectives entered the room and a modest amount of policemen after them. Taking a step away from her raising his hands, he shot a bewildered look towards Elodie as apart of the act. A wave of regret washed over him at seeing her exposed to strangers the way she was. This was not what he wanted.

He swore to himself he'd apologize when he was able...for both that and the kiss.
 
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The thing about confidence was how easily it could be faked when necessary. Outwardly, Elodie seemed as composed as she might in any other ordinary circumstances, but inside, it was absolute turmoil. She was mortified, and while on the outside she had little more than a blush to show for it, in reality she was trying somewhat desperately to contain the urge to shake apart. She owed Rossi nothing, really, and it would have probably been in her best interests to leave... but it was the least she could do for poor Vinny not to walk away until she had at least some answers.

Her eyes moved to Rossi as he pulled his shirt free and the color in her cheeks deepened. She found herself staring - roving over the map of scars with an odd mix of curiosity and concern, and perhaps a little more appreciation than she would be willing to admit. It was shortly lived, however, because almost as soon as they had formulated a plan, there was a shout and Rossi had yanked her into his arms. The kiss came unexpectedly and for several solid seconds, Elodie's mind shut down as she tried to grasp exactly what was happening.

Graciously, realization caught hold shortly before the door exploded inward and she had managed to relax the tension in her shoulders and spine long enough to give a fairly convincing display of reciprocated affection. It was possibly made easier because, truth be told, he wasn't too shabby a kisser.

But it was short lived and pulling back, spinning round to face the uneasy faces of the police, Elodie flashed an expression of shock that wasn't all that difficult to muster up, moving to shield herself behind Rossi, hands braced on the small of his back, "What is this??"