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Her One and Only Hero

Page 25

by Sharon Hartley


  He found the inhaler in his pocket and handed it to her. She placed the cylinder in her mouth and activated the plunger, taking the medicine into her lungs, but without much force.

  She attempted to rise but failed. Dale scooped up Bella and came to his feet. She tried to place her arms around his neck but didn’t have the strength.

  “Your mother sent me,” he told her.

  “Mamma?”

  “Yes, Mamma. She loves you.”

  “Papa?” Bella whispered.

  “Yes,” Dale said, a catch in his voice. “I am your father.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  UNABLE TO REMAIN in her prison of a room any longer, Fran sat in the cafe nursing her second cup of horrible American coffee. She had forced herself to eat some scrambled eggs and toast, which she had to admit made her feel better.

  Her sketch pad rested on the table. A new portrait of her daughter stared at her with accusing eyes.

  When her cell phone clattered on the table, Fran grabbed it. “Dale?”

  “I’ve got her, Fran. She’s alive.”

  Fran squeezed her eyes shut. A siren wailed in the background of the call. “You are sure?”

  “She’s lying on a gurney next to me. We’re in an ambulance on our way to Jackson Memorial Hospital.”

  A hospital? “She is sick?”

  “Yes.”

  “How bad?”

  Fran listened as Dale took a deep breath. “Gillis has arranged for an agent to drive you to Jackson. You need to get to Bella as soon as you can.”

  “Let me hear her voice.”

  “I’m sorry. She’s too weak, barely conscious.”

  “Mio Dio.”

  “Get to Jackson, Fran.”

  “Ms. Scarpetta?”

  Fran looked up and discovered a man standing beside her table.

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me, ma’am. I’ll take you to your daughter.”

  * * *

  ALERTED BY THE EMTs while en route, a trauma team met Bella’s ambulance.

  Wanting to stay out of the way, Dale watched from inside the vehicle as personnel unloaded her gurney, barked numbers and described Bella’s condition to the physicians. The team talked about low levels of carbon dioxide, respiratory failure, the possible need for intubation.

  When they’d disappeared inside the emergency room, he jumped from the rear of the ambulance and followed them into the hospital.

  Bella was in trouble. Bad trouble. He’d seen that bluish pallor previously on the job. It meant the body was starving for oxygen.

  Unwanted, a favorite phrase of his friend Sean O’Malley entered his brain. She was circling the drain.

  How long had she been alone in that room struggling to breathe?

  He’d found his daughter. He’d even managed to exchange a few words with her. God, when she’d looked at him with those green eyes and said, “Papa?” in a beautiful Italian accent, he’d wanted to cry.

  Had she known who he was? He wanted to believe she understood he was her father. He wanted her to know that she’d succeeded in finding him. She deserved that at least after all that she’d been through.

  She was beautiful. Of course she was. She looked like her mother. But so weak. She’d been unable to even lift her arms to grab his neck.

  Would he ever get to know her? Would he ever have a real conversation with her?

  Had he found her too late?

  Inside the ER, he found no trace of Bella or her team.

  He approached the desk and told a woman in a pink uniform, “I’m Dale Baldwin, the father of the girl who just arrived by ambulance.”

  “I’m the father.” How weird was that? Will that be the first and last time I get to say that?

  The woman nodded, unimpressed.

  “Can I see her?”

  “Someone will be with you as soon as possible,” the woman told him. Was she a nurse? What did it matter who she was? She showed him a room where he could wait.

  “Her mother will arrive any minute,” Dale said. “Please tell her where I am.”

  “Of course.”

  Dale entered the waiting room and stared blankly at the wall.

  If only he’d gotten to Bella sooner. Just a few hours might have made a difference. He went through the steps he’d followed during the search. But what could he have done any differently? Nothing.

  If Fran hadn’t demanded to go home, he wouldn’t have spotted Zarco in the airport.

  If only. If only. He could play that game in his head all day. None of it mattered now.

  Nothing mattered but his daughter’s health.

  The EMT on the ambulance theorized she caught a virus, the common cold, but without her medication, poor nutrition and the added stress of captivity, her immune system had collapsed.

  What kind of an animal left a sick little girl alone to die?

  “Dale.”

  At the sound of Fran’s voice, he hurried across the room and gathered her into his arms. They clung to each other for several long minutes.

  Fran pulled away. “Where is she?”

  “They’re working on her,” Dale said.

  “You are sure it is Bella? There is no mistake this time?”

  “I’m certain.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Because of those eyes.

  Knowing Fran remained unconvinced, Dale removed his phone and showed photos he’d taken of Bella in the ambulance.

  “You tell me,” he said.

  Fran released an anguished sob. “Yes. Mio Dio, she is so thin. I have to see her.”

  “I know, honey. But we have to wait.”

  “When did you get here?”

  Dale checked the time, surprised at how long he’d been lost in his thoughts.

  “Almost an hour ago.”

  “Tell me everything,” Fran begged.

  “Let’s sit down.”

  Dale led Fran to a seat and explained about the children they’d found, Bella’s friend Ana, how the jefe took Bella away when she got sick.

  “Ana said Bella stood up to the boss man, demanded he improve their living conditions.”

  Fran nodded. “That sounds like our daughter.”

  Dale patted his pocket and withdrew the drawing of the beach Bella had made for Ana.

  “Bella made this drawing for her friend. I forgot to return it to her.”

  Fran smoothed the folds in the paper and nodded. “This is definitely Bella’s work.”

  “You were right,” Dale said, smiling at the artwork. “She’s good.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin.”

  Dale and Fran jumped to their feet when a doctor entered the waiting room.

  “I’m Dr. Suarez, your daughter’s physician.”

  Fran reached for Dale’s hand and squeezed hard.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “She’s breathing on her own and her oxygen levels have returned to normal. She responded well to the steroids.”

  “Any permanent damage?” Dale asked.

  “I’m waiting for the result of one more test to say for sure,” Dr. Suarez said. “She’s young, and I think she’s going to be fine, but I’d like to keep her overnight for observation.”

  “Can we see her?” Fran asked.

  “I’ll take you to her.”

  * * *

  THE GIRL SITTING UP in her hospital bed barely resembled the waif Dale had found languishing on rags a few hours ago. Her skin had pinked up and she’d combed her hair.

  “Mamma,” Bella screeched, her lungs sounding fine. She raised her arms toward her mom, something else she hadn’t been able to do two hours ago. “Mamma.”

  Fran flew across the room and hugged her daughter. The two conversed in rapid Italian.
Fran pulled back and placed both hands on her daughter’s cheeks, said a lot of words that included “amore,” and hugged her again.

  Bella’s gaze focused on him over her mother’s shoulder. She blinked and asked something in Italian.

  Fran released Bella, stood and smiled at Dale.

  “Yes,” Fran said, in answer to her daughter’s question. “Bella, this is your father. Dale, meet your daughter, Isabella.”

  Dale approached the bed, drinking in the sight of his daughter, who stared at him as if she’d never seen a man before. What the hell did you say to a daughter for the first time?

  “Hi,” Dale said.

  “It was you.” Bella collapsed back on her pillow, but her gaze never left his face. “I thought it was a dream.”

  Fran frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re the man who rescued me,” Bella said. “I knew you were my father. I just knew it.” Out of air, she sucked in a breath.

  “Take it easy,” Fran cautioned. “Breathe slow and deep.”

  Bella nodded, glanced from one to the other and asked, “How did you find me?”

  “That’s a long story,” Dale said with a glance at Fran, who couldn’t stop staring at their daughter.

  “How do you feel?” Dale asked.

  “Okay, I guess,” Bella said. “Just really, really tired.” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Mamma.”

  Fran sat on the edge of the bed. “I know.”

  “I was so stupid. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Fran picked up her daughter’s hand. “We can talk about it later. Right now you need to rest.”

  “What about the other kids?” Bella asked. “We need to get them out of that horrible place.”

  “Your friends have been taken into protective custody,” Dale told her. “They’ll get checked out by a doctor.”

  Obviously exhausted by all the talking, Bella took a deep breath. “What will happen to them?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dale said. “The state will likely try to find their parents, send them home.”

  “Most of them don’t have a home,” Bella said.

  “They will be taken care of,” Dale said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Did they hurt you?” Fran asked her daughter in a quiet voice.

  Bella made a face. “You mean did anyone rape me?”

  Fran flinched as if her daughter had struck her. “Yes, I guess that’s what I mean.”

  “No, Mamma. They said they were saving me for some man in Brazil.” Bella’s voice shook with emotion. “But they hit me when I refused to work. I tried to get the other kids to go on strike.”

  When tears formed in Bella’s eyes, Dale stepped forward and placed a hand on Fran’s shoulder. Maybe this was too much for Bella. She should talk to a social worker or a counselor, a professional who knew the right questions and how to ask them.

  Fran met his gaze and nodded.

  “And they took my photo,” Bella said. “I think it’s on the internet.”

  “That’s enough conversation for now,” Fran said. “You just rest.”

  “Okay,” Bella said. “Good idea. But please don’t leave, okay?”

  “Of course not,” Fran agreed.

  Bella sat up again, looking directly at Dale. “Neither of you. I need to know all about my father.”

  “And I need to know all about my daughter.”

  Bella fell back, her gaze focusing on Fran’s shoulder where Dale’s hand still rested. “Are you guys, you know, friends?”

  Dale squeezed Fran’s shoulder. Good question.

  Fran placed a hand on top of Dale’s. “Yes, we’re friends,” she said.

  “Friends with benefits?” Bella asked in a sleepy but hopeful tone.

  Fran made an outraged sound.

  Stunned, Dale stared at his daughter. Who was this child?

  But she’d closed her eyes. Before either he or Fran could reply, Bella had fallen asleep.

  * * *

  SITTING BY HER hospital bed, Fran could not stop looking at her daughter. In her sleep, Bella appeared peaceful, happy, healthy. But how could she be after all she had been through in the last weeks?

  How could there not be permanent injuries to her personality, if not her body?

  Bella had slept intermittently all day, occasionally waking to have a brief conversation with Dale or her or both, and then lapsing back into slumber. The doctors assured them this behavior was normal, that all of her test results were improving. She was eating like a normal pre-teen, which pleased Dr. Suarez.

  Fran’s phone vibrated. Paolo returning her call. She jumped up and hurried away from Bella’s bed so as not to wake her.

  “Bella is alive,” Fran said into the phone.

  “Thank God.”

  She explained all that had occurred since their last communication before the trip to Tampa.

  “She’s really okay?” Paolo asked.

  “So far.”

  “Listen, I’ve been in touch with the committee in Milan to explain about Bella’s abduction,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. Someone needed to let them know what was going on.”

  “Thank you. I received a text declaring me in breach of contract. They demanded proof of progress or I must return the advance.”

  “Yes, I know. I asked for an extension, but they want to hear from you. They’re worried, and I don’t blame them.”

  “I will contact them. I promise.”

  “Good. I’m happy for you, Francesca. I hope you and Bella’s father can work things out.”

  Fran made a noncommittal sound.

  “Ciao. Promise me you’ll contact Milan.”

  She disconnected. But what could she tell her patrons? She had made no progress other than initial measurements. As usual, she had taken too long to find the right stone. Previously, once she found the exact slab she needed, the carving went fast. But the day her perfect marble had been delivered, Bella had gone missing.

  What had once been the most important—miraculous—thing in her life now seemed inconsequential. Was it because she’d realized her Searching Man was Dale? Had she subconsciously wanted him to be searching for her after all these years? Had she been searching for him?

  Because of their daughter, they’d found each other. But now what?

  Fran returned to Bella’s bedside. How soon would her daughter be well enough to fly home? Her spirits lifted at the thought of returning to work. Yes, of course she would complete her project. She had fought hard for her dreams. She wanted Dale, but would never feel completely whole without her art.

  Could she have both? Did she dare to want that much?

  “Mamma?”

  Bella’s voice roused Fran from her musings.

  “Hey,” Fran said. “How do you feel?”

  “Okay,” Bella said, searching the room. “Where is Papa?”

  “He had to go talk to his boss.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “He was supposed to be at work today.”

  “What work does Papa do?”

  “He is polizia.”

  Bella’s eyes widened. “Polizia?”

  “Yes, a detective. And a good one. He found you when no one else could.”

  Bella nodded and remained quiet for a time. Fran waited. She and Bella needed to talk about Dale.

  “That’s strange,” Bella said, not meeting Fran’s gaze.

  “Why is it strange?”

  “Because I came to this country because I wanted to find him.” Bella raised her startling green eyes—Dale’s eyes—to Fran. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Mamma? Why did you let me believe Paolo was my father?”

  Fran leaned forward. Time for truth.

  “Because it was too painful.”

 
“You broke up with my real papa? Were you mad at each other?”

  “No,” Fran said. “Nothing like that. I loved your father very much.” She took a deep breath. “And I believe he loved me.”

  Bella sat forward. “What happened?”

  “Your father never knew about you.”

  “You met my real papa while in Miami studying. Is that right?”

  “Yes. I did not know I was pregnant until I returned home.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Fran looked away, knowing how lame her explanation would sound. Dale hadn’t believed her. Why should his daughter? Now, after all this time, even though she had lived through the horror of being held captive in her own home, that reality did not seem plausible.

  “Because I could not contact him,” Fran said.

  Bella squinted her eyes, looking doubtful. “Uh, I think they already had phones the year I was born.”

  Fran sighed. For so many years she had hoped to spare her daughter the knowledge of how judgmental and biased her grandparents had been, and she could still lie. She could tell Bella that she hadn’t loved Dale enough to fight for him, but that was not the truth. She had fought for their love. She had fought hard, but she had lost that battle.

  And I am so tired of lies and half-truths, of a past that haunts me. The time has come to speak my truth.

  Let Bella make her own judgments about what had happened. After all she had been through to find her father, she was entitled to that.

  “My parents, your grandparents, were beyond disgusted with my behavior. They took my phone and my computer away so I could not contact your father. They locked me in my room and placed a guard by the door.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until I agreed to marry Paolo.”

  Bella blinked. “Because you were pregnant? What was the big deal?”

  Fran tried to hide a smile. “They feared the disgrace would harm Nonno’s career. But most importantly, I think you surely know that your nonna does not like Americans. Only Nonno could convince her to let me go to school in Miami.”

  Eyes wide, her daughter collapsed against her pillows. She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent.

  Finally Bella said, “She can be so mean when she talks about America.”

 

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