He heard the cardinal’s voice tell him to enter. It sounded irritated, as Julian had expected. Summoning an inner courage and calm, Julian walked into the cardinal’s office.
“I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed,” the cardinal snapped without looking up from his writing. “I’m busy.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Eminence, but we have received an email from... Slash.”
The cardinal lifted his head. “Do we finally know where he is?”
“We do not, although, at least, we know he hasn’t left Italy. Anyway, you received this correspondence from him two hours ago.”
“Two hours ago? Why didn’t you notify me immediately?”
Julian wanted to answer that it was because the cardinal had told him not to disturb him, but he said instead, “I wanted to be sure of the authenticity of the email. After reviewing it, I believe it’s legitimate. But we may have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Slash said he’s willing to make a statement about his father, but it may not be what you expected.”
The cardinal’s set his pen down and swiveled his chair to face Julian directly. “Is that so? What did I expect?”
“I don’t know, but not this.”
“Read it to me,” the cardinal demanded.
Julian cleared his throat. “Cardinal Lazo, if you issue a statement using my name without my permission, I will go viral with a statement you will never be able to stop. In that statement, I will acknowledge you as my father.” He looked up from the email. “That’s it.”
“What?” The cardinal’s expression darkened. “Give me that paper.”
Julian quickly handed it over to the cardinal. Lazo read it, then angrily crumpled it in his fist before tossing it across the room. “Where are those DNA results from the hotel?”
“I received a call a few minutes ago, Your Eminence. The results should be in my inbox by the end of the day.”
“They better be, because I want answers and I want them now.”
Lexi
I sat in the car in front of Father Opizzi’s house, my face positioned inches from the car’s air-conditioning vent. I was beyond grateful Slash had it on full blast so I could think of something other than the fact that I was melting into a puddle of sweat.
“What do we do now?” I asked, putting the hat back on and cupping my hands around the vent to funnel the cool air toward me in a more efficient way.
“We need to find Manuel de Rosa.”
“Okay. Where will home base be for said searching? Do we find a hotel here in Licosa?”
“No. We go to Salerno. It’s the closest big city, and the wifi will be significantly better. I know an excellent hotel where we can work comfortably. I’ll see if they have a room available.”
He pulled up a number and dialed it, and I was quiet while he spoke rapidly to someone. “We got lucky. Someone cancelled their room an hour ago.”
“Great. I hope it has air-conditioning.”
“It doesn’t, but it does have a beautiful sea view. The breeze coming off the water will feel refreshing.”
I sighed, my hopes for a cool evening dashed. “What’s your plan for finding de Rosa?”
“Open sources first,” he said. “It might be that simple.”
“Or not.” I hated playing devil’s advocate, but sometimes things weren’t simple. “Slash, he could be anywhere in the world.”
“I know. But Italy is the best place to start. We’ll find him wherever he is. It’s just a matter of time.”
“But we’re short on time.”
“Then we put our heads together and figure a faster way.”
I looked out the window at the bicycle and thought of the kindly priest sitting inside, praying in front of the small shrine to the saints. Then I thought of Slash and everything he’d been through in his life. I felt like I was missing something right in front of my face.
“Slash, don’t you think it’s strange that de Rosa left the priesthood right after you are brought to the church? Father Opizzi said he was exceptionally handsome. There are some potentially uncomfortable lines to be drawn here. Do you think he could be your father?”
He stiffened, but I knew he was too smart not to have considered it. “I have no idea. But until we can rule it out, we keep it on the table for my sake as well as Father Armando’s.” He glanced at me. “What was your impression of Father Armando, anyway? Did you like him?”
I leaned back against the seat. This was a delicate question and required a delicate answer. “You know I’m not the kind of person who gets warm, fuzzy feelings after meeting people only once, but the truth is, I did like him. I think he has a lot of regret for what happened to you. He wants to help, but instead he feels like he keeps hurting you. That’s got to be tough on both of you.”
Slash didn’t respond. Instead, he programmed the GPS, then slid his hand behind my seat, putting the car in Reverse. Apparently we wouldn’t be discussing the issue any further. I wondered if they could ever get past whatever Lazo had shoved between them.
I waited until we pulled out onto the road before I spoke again. “Slash, even if we find Manuel de Rosa, it could be a dead end, or he might not be willing to talk to us. There’s a chance he might not be alive. We could be chasing a ghost here. We may never find out who your father is.”
Slash’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but his mouth tightened. “I know. But ghost or not, we keep hunting.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lexi
“Don’t look.” Slash took his hand off the steering wheel to pat my knee.
“Closing my eyes doesn’t help,” I protested. “My imagination is worse than the road.”
“Then keep your eyes focused ahead. I promise to keep you safe, okay? We’ll get to Salerno in one piece.”
Slash drove carefully along the winding road barely large enough to fit two cars. He filled me in on the history of Salerno as we drove, perhaps to take my mind off the scary cliffs hugging the side of the route.
“How soon until we get there?” I looked to my right where there was no guard rail—just one long drop. I gulped and snapped my gaze back to the road in front of me.
“Not too much longer.”
True to his word, we safely made it to Salerno, but I wasn’t so sure about my stomach. As we entered the town, we were met with more banners picturing the saints stretched across buildings and streets. Souvenir stands were selling tea towels, keychains and mugs with their images, and posters of the two were plastered on buildings, street signs and houses. You couldn’t turn your head without seeing them.
“Wow.” I glanced around in surprise. “I had no idea how big a deal this sainthood thing is.”
“It’s a big deal, especially when one of the saints happens to be from your city.”
“Yes, of course, the Savior of Salerno. A hometown boy makes it big.”
“Exactly.”
We drove up a winding street until we reached a stunning white building built right into the cliffs.
“Holy cow,” I said. “That’s the hotel? The building inside the cliff? I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“It’s the Hotel La Lucertola. It has a stunning view, so I knew you’d appreciate it.” He smiled as he parked the car and cut the ignition. “And, in addition to the view, it’s only a two-minute walk to the beach.”
My step faltered. “The beach? But... I, ah, didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
He chuckled. “You can swim topless here, cara. Everyone does.”
“What?”
The chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh. “Mio Dio. Don’t look so worried. Unfortunately, we don’t currently have swimming on the agenda, although if you change your mind about the topless part, I could be persuaded.”
Still grinning a
t the horrified expression on my face, he grabbed my hand and tucked it into his elbow as we entered the hotel. I waited in a chair in the lobby with our bags while he registered us. He retrieved me once he had the keys.
“What name did you register us under?” I asked in a low voice.
“Mr. and Mrs. Allegretti.”
“Allegretti? What if someone speaks Italian to me?”
“You’re my American wife. No worries.”
“Oh, right.”
Our room was on the second floor, so we had to take only one flight of stairs. The room was bright and sleek with a balcony and a gorgeous sea view, as Slash had promised. I dropped my bags and hat on the bed and headed to the balcony, my hands resting on a smooth white railing. The sapphire sea sparkled as the late afternoon sun cast a reddish, golden glow over the water. Sailboats dotted the horizon. To my left and right, the cliffs of the town were wedged with brightly colored houses and buildings built right into the stone like the hotel.
“This may be one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen,” I said in a hushed tone.
He came up behind me, circling his arms around my waist. “The Amalfi coast is one of my favorite places in the world. There is a certain quiet here that rests my soul.”
“I can see why.”
I’m not sure how long we stood there admiring the view, but when we finally moved back into the room, my stomach growled loudly.
I pressed a hand to my abdomen. “Ugh. My body is all out of sorts with the time change.”
“I’m hungry, too,” Slash said. “Let’s get the computers set up and I’ll order room service. We’ll eat dinner on the balcony, if that works for you.”
“That totally works for me. Can we have seafood?”
“We can. I highly recommend the seafood and pasta from this region.”
“Perfect.”
I set up the computers while Slash called room service. It took me a few minutes to create an automatic search for all males named Manuel de Rosa in Italy, narrowing the parameters to include a specific age range. Slash joined me, creating a duplicate search, but focusing on all Italian males named Manuel de Rosa who were associated with seminary training or the priesthood. We would cross reference later to see who, if anyone, popped.
Sooner than expected, room service arrived with our dinner. I went into the bathroom to wash up and was met with a stunning interior of white-and-earth-toned tiles, including a gorgeous white marble bowl sink. When I came out, room service had departed and Slash was placing our dinner on the small balcony table. I finished setting the table while he was in the bathroom. By the time he returned, everything was ready.
“I ordered two separate dishes and thought we could share,” he said, pulling out my chair. I sat down and lifted the top covering one of the plates. “I ordered a variety of stone fruits, manteca del Cilento and pecorino cheese, black olives, fresh figs and bread.”
It was an amazing spread and only the first course. I was in heaven.
He sat and we loaded our plates. As the first bite of the pecorino cheese exploded on my tongue, I closed my eyes to savor the experience. “Best. Food. Ever.”
We both gorged on figs, fruit and cheese before Slash opened a couple of Italian craft beers for us to try. Like everything else, the beer was delicious.
“I can see why people love Italy so much,” I said, munching on a piece of bread. “Carbs for every meal of the day.”
He smiled. “Life does revolve around food in Italy.”
“I hope I can stay awake after we eat. I’m going to need a nap after this.”
“Then we’ll take a nap.”
I needed to stay up and get adjusted to Italian time, but I didn’t want to pass up the chance to let him hold me, so I reserved the right to take a nap if I needed one.
After the antipasto, we shared an excellent meal of spaghetti with clam sauce and eggplant parmigiana. For dessert, we drank coffee and nibbled on lemon delizie, a spongy cake filled with lemon custard. A couple of times while we were eating, I got up and checked on the progress of our search for Manuel de Rosa.
“It’s looking good so far,” I said, sitting back down. “We’ll have decent data to work with.”
“Good. I’m anticipating narrowing it down fairly quickly. I want to move rapidly on this. Either he’s a good lead or he’s not.”
“True.” I took another bite of the cake and finally put down my fork, sitting back in my chair. “I can’t eat another bite. Being this full reminds me of eating at Nonna’s house. Will we get to see her while we’re here?”
“I’d be in serious fear for my life if she found out I was in Italy and didn’t stop by. Besides, she’s excited about the engagement, and the fact that you accepted the ring she once wore.”
I looked down at my engagement ring. I was scared that a klutz like me was entrusted with such an important family heirloom. Regardless, I loved it and was already used to the feel of it on my finger.
“Well, in that case, we should definitely visit her.”
Slash grinned, lifting his coffee cup to me. “You just want to eat her food.”
“Hey, I’m not going to deny it. The two of you have ruined me for all other food. She’s got serious mojo in the kitchen. Perhaps the most amazing food mojo in the entire universe.”
He smiled, and I noticed how relaxed he’d become since we’d been here. His posture, expression and tone had all eased away from the rigidity that had been present when I’d first seen him in Genoa. The sun was setting, casting a fiery, almost golden glow on the water and cliffs. It was a moment that would burn in my memory for a long time.
“Now that you’re family, she might be willing to share some secret recipes with you,” he said.
“The recipes would be great, but I would imagine a certain culinary talent would be required to recreate the magic. I can barely fix a bowl of Cheerios.”
“Not true. You’ve been doing an excellent job of cooking on your nights, and you are smart and excellent with measurements and following directions—most of the time. You have legitimate potential.”
The thought cheered me. Perhaps there was hope for me yet.
Finally we tore ourselves away from the view and food and headed back inside to our laptops to get to work. It took us under an hour to cull our list and cross-reference it. When we worked together, we were unstoppable.
“Okay, that totals sixty-seven hits within the age and church connection parameters,” I said, tapping my screen. “That’s not too bad.”
“I’m satisfied. Let’s split them up and run a tighter cross-reference. One set specifically with the church at San Mauro Cilento, and another with the Vatican.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “The Vatican? You think someone as young as he was worked at the Vatican?”
“I think it’s a thread I don’t want to leave dangling.”
“Your call.” I tapped out some commands and watched the data scroll by. About an hour later, Slash pushed back from the desk. “Got him.”
I scooted over and peered over his shoulder at his screen. “How did you find him so fast?”
“I did a little dipping in unsecure Vatican files and went through dozens of seminary class lists for the time I estimated he would be there. I focused on a class I knew he would have taken as an acolyte, and boom, there he was. From that point, I was able to track him to the residency at San Mauro.”
“So, what we do know about him now? Is he alive? In Italy?”
“He’s alive. He’s fifty-four years of age and was born right here in Salerno. The time frame for his residency fits exactly with when I was brought to the church.”
“He sounds like our guy. Does he still live in Salerno?”
“No. His current residence is in Gaeta, which is about a two-and-a-half hour drive from here, along the coast. He’s divor
ced with no kids. Tends bar at one of the local hotels.”
How odd that his life had changed so dramatically. “From acolyte to divorced bartender,” I said. “That’s a jump.”
“Not really. Bartenders and priests are both good listeners.”
“True, that.” I closed my laptop and stood, as it looked like the search was over, at least for the time being. “Now what, Slash? Do we call him? Go see him?” I watched him carefully to see how he would react to this. I wasn’t sure how he would handle coming face-to-face with a guy that might turn out to be the father who had abandoned him.
But he seemed steady when he snapped his laptop shut and sat on the edge of the bed. “I think we go see him in person, without a call first. I don’t want to risk him turning us down for a discussion.”
“That’s probably a wise choice. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow, probably around noon. He works at night, which means he’ll likely be sleeping in the morning. We can wander and play tourist for a few hours before heading out to see him. After that, we’ll swing by Nonna’s house since Sperlonga is only twenty minutes away from Gaeta.”
“Hooray!”
Slash glanced at me with amusement. “You’re only thinking of food again.”
“Not only, but yes.” I grinned at him. “However, right now, I’m also thinking I have to work off this dinner. Do you think you can help me with that?” I put my hands on his shoulders and abruptly pushed him backward onto the bed.
His expression flared with surprise, but within a second, his fingers had wrapped around both my wrists. He flipped and pinned me beneath him, my arms trapped above my head.
He looked down at me, his eyes darkening. “I’m sure a workout can be arranged.”
“Oh, thank goodness, Mr. Allegretti,” I said in a teasing voice. “I don’t even mind going topless for this one.”
“Thank God and all the saints. I’ve always dreamed about you saying that,” he said as his mouth crashed down on mine.
Chapter Thirty-Five
No Stone Unturned: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eleven Page 19
