by Dinah McCall
“He didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”
“Then if he didn’t make a pass, why are you angry?”
Stunned by his perceptiveness, she struggled for an answer she didn’t have.
“Do you like him?” David asked.
“Of course. He’s a likeable man, but I hardly know him,” Isabella muttered.
“Oh…love has been won and lost in less time than you’ve known Jack Dolan.”
She shrugged, refusing to comment.
At that moment David wished that Samuel were still alive. This was something that a father should be dealing with, not an uncle—and only an honorary one, at that.
“You’ve never dated much. The uncles and I have often worried that you’re too confined by this hotel to get out as much a young woman such as yourself should.”
“I’ve gone out as often as I wanted. Besides, it’s not like there’s a huge gene pool of eligible males here. There are only six thousand people in Braden, and more than half of them are senior citizens. Most of the others are married or spoken for, and the few who aren’t, aren’t worth the dirt it would take to bury them.”
David frowned, remembering the incident with her tire.
“Bobby Joe Cage definitely falls into the latter category.”
“My point exactly,” Isabella said.
“Jack Dolan is not from here.”
“Which means he won’t be staying, doesn’t it?” she said, and then stood abruptly. “I’m sorry, Uncle David, but I just remembered something I need to do.”
She left without waiting for him to tell her goodbye. David stood, watching her sail past Jack Dolan’s table with her head held high. And judging from Dolan’s expression, he was in no better mood than Isabella had been.
He sighed as he thought of what lay ahead. The biggest relief they could know was that Isabella had found someone to love her when they were no longer around. With one last glance in Jack Dolan’s direction, he went back to the table to gather the others.
It was time to set the last project in motion.
10
Isabella was already at the front desk, checking in new guests, when David exited the dining area. Thomas and Jasper lingered behind to visit with an acquaintance from Braden, but John and Rufus were at David’s heels. The two old men were head-to-head, talking animatedly with each other as they walked. John Michaels’s thin, lanky body was a complete opposite to Rufus’s tall, portly figure. Samuel Abbott had often lovingly referred to them as their very own Laurel and Hardy.
When Isabella saw them coming, she flinched. The last thing she wanted was more of her Uncle David’s third degree.
“Miss?”
She quickly returned her attention to the couple who were just checking in.
“I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
Leonardo Silvia repeated his question.
“Do you have a phone book we might borrow? I need to look up the number to White Mountain Fertility Clinic. We have an appointment there this afternoon, but I want to confirm the time.”
“There will be one in your room, but I know the number. It’s 555-1212.”
“You are sure?” Leonardo asked.
Isabella smile. “I’ve called it every day for most of my life.”
Maria Silvia leaned across the counter, fixing Isabella with a sympathetic stare.
“You, too, are trying to have a child?”
“No, nothing like that. My father, Dr. Samuel Abbott, was one of the founders of the clinic.”
Maria’s eyes widened. “Oh! How proud you must be of him that he is devoting his life to helping people like my Leonardo and me.”
“Yes, I was very proud. Unfortunately, he passed away recently.”
Maria gasped and then moaned. “No…oh no! We have come too late!”
The terror on the little woman’s face was evident. Isabella quickly added, “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to imply that there was no longer a clinic. The clinic is run by a fully trained staff.” Then she waved her Uncle David over to the desk, anxious that he help calm the woman before she went into hysterics. “Uncle David, I want you to meet Leonardo and Maria Silvia. They’ve come to visit the clinic. In fact, they have an appointment this afternoon. Maria, this is Doctor Schultz, another one of the founders.”
David Schultz saw desperation in the woman’s face and gently took her hand in his own.
“Maria, is it?”
She nodded quickly, but her heart was still pounding out an irregular rhythm.
“Yes, Doctor. I am Maria Silvia. This is my husband, Leonardo. You can help me have a baby?”
David smiled. “We can certainly try.”
She began to relax. “Oh…it will be successful. This I know.”
It was good to know that her confidence in their facility was high, but David worried that her expectations were even higher. He didn’t want to dispel her hopes, but he also didn’t want to mislead her.
“Well, we do all that is humanly possible and then say a few prayers. After that, it is up to a higher power.”
Maria’s smile widened. “I have already prayed to God many times, but this time I know my prayers will come true.”
Leonardo put his arm around his wife and tried to pull her away.
“Please… Maria mia, don’t bother the doctor right now. Leave all our explanations for our appointment this afternoon at the clinic.”
But Maria wasn’t through. She couldn’t let go without being sure the doctor understood. She patted Leonardo’s cheek, then turned to David once more.
“I do not wish to bother you,” she said. “I only want you to know that I have promised my child to God. This is how I know it will happen.”
The hair on the back of David’s neck suddenly stood on end as he looked down into the woman’s eyes.
“You promised a child to God?”
She nodded. “Son or daughter…it does not matter. What matters is that I have promised God that I will raise our child to serve others as His disciples served Him.”
“That’s a very noble thing to do,” he said. “But what if your child chooses otherwise?”
Maria shook her head. “It will not happen.”
Curious now, the other two uncles were also listening closely to this small, dark-headed woman’s unusual theory.
“How can you be so sure?” David asked.
“Because if God gives me the child, He will certainly also give the child the calling.”
He stared at her closely, seeing a faith that almost shamed him. And knowing the last project that still lay ahead of them, David felt as if his meeting with this woman had been predetermined.
“Yours is a most remarkable faith,” he said.
She smiled. “My God is a most remarkable god.” Then she patted Leonard’s hand. “My husband has already picked out a name it it’s a boy.”
David chuckled. “That’s what I call planning ahead.”
Maria nodded. “It will be after his grandfather, you see. Tell him Leonardo.”
Leonardo gave David an apologetic look as he answered.
“It’s true. I have always said I would name our first son after my grandfather. His mother was English, his father Sicilian. He spent his whole life in Italy but considered himself too old to emigrate when my family left for America.”
“So what was you grandfather’s name?” David asked.
Leonardo shrugged. “Bartholomew Silvia. The family called him Barto. An odd combination of names, I grant you, but I loved him dearly.”
David nodded cordially, but his mind was racing.
“Someone will be seeing you this afternoon?”
“Yes, and it will be none too soon, right, Leonardo?”
“That is true,” he said, then picked up their suitcases before leading her toward the elevator.
David glanced at John and Rufus, who were watching him intently. He looked back at the woman, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as the pair began to cros
s the lobby. Suddenly he called out. “Maria!”
She stopped beside the stairwell, then turned, unaware that the light from the mullioned panes above the entry had formed a halo above her head.
“Yes, Doctor?”
When David saw that, he took it as their own blessing to proceed.
“What is the doctor’s name who you’re going to see?”
“A Doctor Bennett, I believe.”
“Yes, yes, Aaron Bennett. A fine doctor with a very high rate of successes, but how would you feel about seeing me, instead?”
Maria beamed. “I would like it very much…to consult with a doctor we have already met. And one of the founders of the clinic! It is more than we expected.”
David nodded. “Then it’s agreed. I’ll call the clinic myself and notify them of the change. As for now, you two get settled in your room. Get some rest. Have a good lunch. We’ll see you at three.”
“Thank you, Doctor Schultz. Thank you very much.”
“No, Mrs. Silvia, I suspect it is we who should thank you.”
His cryptic comment was as surprising to Isabella as his offer had been. It had been more than five years since any of the three founders had taken regular patients. She wondered what was so special about this particular woman that would make him come out of retirement. But when she looked at the aging trio, they seemed blithely unaware of her curiosity.
They had started up the stairs when David stopped and turned.
“Isabella, I think you should take the day off.”
“What on earth for? I never take a day off.”
“That’s exactly why you should do it,” he said. “And while you’re at it, get your hair done. Have a manicure. Get a massage from that…that…what’s her name at the beauty shop.”
“Lola Bryan, and I’m not going to do something so frivolous for no reason.”
Jack Dolan came out of the dining room just as David started to answer. He gave the man a studied look and then turned to Isabella.
“You’ve go a reason, and you know it.”
Irked by their interference into what she considered a personal issue, she stubbornly refused to comment s they walked up the stairs and then out of sight. When she turned back to the desk, Jack Dolan was there. The sight of him standing there did things to her heart that were better left unsaid. Torn between the urge to hit him or kiss him, she took a deep breath instead.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
The frigid tone of her voice cut all the way to Jack’s conscience, but he wasn’t going to play the blame game right now.
“Are there any hiking trails around her?”
His question took her by surprise. Her answer gave away what she’d been thinking.
“Didn’t get enough sightseeing yesterday?”
The moment she asked it, she could have cut out her tongue. She rolled her eyes, then took a deep breath.
“Excuse me while I rewind my mouth.”
A muscle twitched at the corner of Jack’s lips, but he managed to stay a smile. Something told him it wouldn’t be wise to laugh right now.
“Yes, there are a couple.” She reached beneath the counter and then handed him a map. “They’re easily identified by the red lines. I assume you’ve had backpacking experience?” Then she added, “I ask only because we have had the occasional hiker get lost up in the mountains, and I wouldn’t want it to happen again.”
Jack too the map. “Yes, I know what I’m doing.”
Well, good, because I certainly don’t. “That’s fine then,” Isabella said. “Be sure to pack enough water. You aren’t planning to stay out overnight, are you?”
Jack shook his head. “No. Just a day trek.”
“Then dress warmly and enjoy your hike.”
Jack sighed. God, he hated the way he felt
Isabella?”
The look in her eyes would have fried eggs on a cold sidewalk.
“What?”
“Yesterday I—“
“There’s nothing to explain. Your message was sent and received.”
He sighed. “It isn’t what you think.”
”Nothing ever is.”
“Damn it, that’s not what I meant.”
She leaned forward, lowering her voice so that their conversation was not overheard.
“I do not intend to speak of this again, Mr. Dolan. Do you understand?”
He leaned forward, too, his voice full of misplace anger.
“I hear you, but it don’t mean I’m paying attention. Do you understand?”
Isabella glared.
Jack stared back.
The phone rang. Isabella turned to answer it. When she looked around, Jack was staring out the window. The moment she hung up, he pointed.
“Who’s that man?”
She leaned across the desk to see where he was pointing.
“Oh…that’s the gardener. Why do you ask?”
“He looks familiar.”
“You’ve probably seen him out mowing.”
“No.”
She shrugged. “I don’t see how you can be so sure.”
Jack turned. Fixing with a cold, intent stare.
“I don’t forget faces.”
“That’s good to know,” she snapped. “So when you’re gone, I will rest easy knowing mine won’t be forgotten.”
Jack glared, alternating between the urge to shake her or kiss her senseless. The knowledge that there was a killer in their midst—one who was most likely a Soviet spy, to boot—was making him antsy. And the fact that he couldn’t come right out and confront these people about Frank Walton’s deception was making his job even more difficult. What made him feel even worse was the possibility that Isabella was involved in the lie, and if she was, she could also be in danger. However, his frustration with her was secondary to the warning that had gone off in his head when he’d seen the man outside.
“What’s his name?” Jack asked.
“What’s whose name?”
“The gardener.”
“Victor Ross, and he’s a good worker who minds his own business, which is what I suggest you do.”
Having said that, Isabella flounced into the office and slammed the door. Seconds later, Delia emerged through the same door, a little wild-eyed and nervous as she quickly too up a position at check-in desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Dolan. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I doubt it,” Jack muttered, and headed for the door.
Despite Isabella’s assurance, he still wanted a closer look at the gardener, but when he got outside, the man was no longer in sight.
Frustrated with women and the world in general, he went back into the hotel, then hesitated as he stared at the closed door to the office. After a moment of indecision, he headed to his room. There would be time to talk to Isabella later, because he was almost positive that he’d seen that man before, or someone who looked an awful lot like him. If he could just remember where. Maybe it would come to him later.
The hiking trails that he’d asked Isabella about were not for sightseeing. He was convinced that the man who’d killed Frank Walton was somewhere in the area. But, because of the clinic, there was a constant influx of strangers, so isolating one particular individual was proving difficult, if not impossible. And there was always the possibility that the killer was hiding somewhere in the mountains, biding his time. Jack’s idea was to hike some of the area surrounding the hotel. He couldn’t cover all of it alone, but he could eliminate some of the most obvious possibilities.
Isabella stared at the papers on her desk for all of two minutes before she picked up the phone, punching in the numbers with angry jabs. The moment her call was answered, she knew that what she was going to do amounted to nothing more than running away. But facing her life as it was today was more than she could handle.
“Marcy, this is Isabella Abbott. Do you have time to cut and style my hair today? You do? Great. Oh, one other thing. Is Lola working today? Good. I
s it possible that I might get a massage before you do my hair? Fantastic! I’ll see you at eleven.”
She hung up the phone, then took a deep breath and exited the office.
“Delia, I’m going to Braden. I won’t be back until sometime this afternoon.”
“Okey-dokey,” Delia said.
Isabella smiled grimly as she strode down the hall toward the family suite. Okey-dokey indeed. She needed to take a feather from Delia’s happy cap. Lighten up a bit. The world was still going to revolve even if her own personal life was wobbling, so to hell with Jack Dolan.
The uncles had gathered in David’s room in preparation for the beginning of their last project. While they were waiting for John to arrive, they were having coffee and watching the news.
“Did you hear that?” Rufus asked, as he pointed to the television screen. “Some man in Florida was wrestling and alligator and got his nose bitten off. What must he have been thinking to do such a thing to begin with?”
Jasper chuckled. “Not the best donor for the gene pool, is he?”
The others laughed. Moments later, the news anchor switched from local to world news. Suddenly David raised his voice above the din.
“Listen!” he cried, then picked up the remote and turned up the volume.
“On a stranger note…a theft was discovered this morning in a remote Italian village. Some of the bones of a long-dead monk known only as St. Bartholomew have been stolen. Sainthood was ordained by the Pope some eighty years ago after people began praying to the monk’s remains and claiming to have bee healed.
“The discovery was made after a cleaning woman bumped the container in which the bones were being displayed and a piece of the glass fell off. It’s not know how many were taken, only that some are missing.
“Least week the bodies of three local men who were reported to have made their livings in less that honest ways were found dead in a farmer’s field. It was thought at the time that they had fought among themselves and killed each other, but now, with the discovery of this most recent theft, there is talk that there might be a connection between the two incidents.
“More later.”
“My God,” David said, and turned off the TV. “What has Samuel done?”
The others looked as horrified as he did. Never in all their years of working together had they crossed that kind of a line.
