“Well, then, Carter, Carter Quinn,” said Giorgio, gesturing to a chair at the table, “please sit, and tell me how you know my brother.”

Carter smiled.

“Actually, it’s just Carter Quinn,” he explained. “You know, one ‘Carter,’ not two.”

“Carter? Like the president, right?”

“Yes,” Carter nodded.

“But what kind of first name is that?” said Giorgio with a curious look.

“It’s an American name, you buffoon!” cried Antonella, swatting her husband in the arm. “Just go sit, and listen to what the boy has to say.”

“I was only asking him,” Giorgio said good-naturedly, defending himself, “because it’s not an Italian name, but he seems to speak the language very well.”

“I learned to speak Italian from Professor Rosa,” Carter told him.

“From my brother?” said Giorgio with surprise. “All this time, I thought he only taught music over there.”

“He gives Italian lessons at his house sometimes in the summer.”

Carter explained that he had recently finished college, and that he had taken lessons from Giancarlo throughout the summer in preparation for his trip to Italy.

“Well,” said Giorgio, sounding impressed, “he obviously taught you very well.”

Carter nodded his thanks at the compliment.

Antonella, meantime, brought a plate of grapes to the table, then a bottle of mineral water and two glasses. She poured Carter a glass of water and motioned to the grapes.

“Prenda,” she told him. “You look tired.”

Carter gave a sheepish shrug.

“I stayed out a little later than I should have last night,” he confessed, before taking a sip of water. “Grazie.”

“Prego,” she said.

“So, I take it you are here in Italy on vacation, yes?” said Giorgio.

“Yes,” Carter told him. “I’ve just been traveling around for a while, seeing things.”

“And how did my brother ever talk you into coming all the way to Abruzzo, to such a little out-of-the-way place like Castelalto ?” said Giorgio with a laugh.

Carter handed him the pouch with the pocket watch, and Giorgio stopped laughing.

“He knew I was planning to visit a friend in Roccasale,” said Carter. “Since it’s not that far away, your brother asked if I would deliver that to you while I was still in the area. It was no trouble, so I said yes. Anyway, I was there last night, and I left just this morning.”

As he slid the watch out of the pouch and into his hand, Giorgio exchanged glances with Antonella, who turned and looked the other way.

“Did my brother, Giancarlo, have anything to say about it?” Giorgio asked as he looked over the watch.

“He just said to tell you not to bother sending it anymore,” Carter told him. “He said it’s broken and cannot be repaired.”

“Nothing else?” said Giorgio.

“That was it.”

Giorgio squirreled up the side of his mouth in a look of consternation, gave a grunt, and glanced again at his wife.

“That sounds just like Giancarlo,” he sighed.