Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2)

by Christa Polkinhorn

  Angelo hesitated. “This is because I changed my name in Italy.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, that explains it. But … how was Sofia able to find you then?”

  Angelo cleared his throat. “She’ll have to explain that herself.”

  “Okay. Anyway, Angelo, we can hardly wait to see you again. I don’t even know what you look like anymore.”

  “The same, only twenty years older.” Angelo said. “I look forward to seeing you, too.”

  “Wait, Maria wants to say hello,” Martin hurried to say.

  Angelo felt his eyes tear up as he heard Maria’s voice. “Hello, Angelo, it’s so good hearing from you again.”

  “Thanks, Maria, you still sound the same. I bet you haven’t aged at all.”

  “Oh, yes, I have.” Maria chortled. “We’ve all aged, but the most important thing is, we’re still here, right?”

  “Right.” Angelo tried to swallow the knot in his throat.

  “Well, dear brother-in-law, Martin is overjoyed about the good news. We all are. We didn’t know if we’d ever find you. But it sounds like we have a private detective in the family.”

  “Yes, you can say that.”

  “Come back soon, Angelo.”

  “I will, Maria. Real soon.”

  Angelo put the phone down and wiped his eyes. He took deep breaths and once he felt calmer again, he stepped outside on the patio. Nicholas and Sofia were sitting on the garden chairs.

  “Everything okay?” Nicholas asked.

  Angelo nodded.

  “Ready to meet the family? Sofia’s family?”

  “Let’s do it.” Angelo forced a smile.

  At the main house, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen told them that lunch was being prepared. Julietta, the girl he’d just met, was setting the table in the dining area of the living room.

  “Mamma,” Julietta called. “They are here.”

  A middle-aged woman, who looked like she could be Julietta’s mother, came out of the kitchen to welcome them. She had the same chestnut-colored longish hair. Hers was streaked with gray and her eyes were dark whereas Julietta’s eyes were that interesting kind of purplish-blue like Sofia’s. The woman shook her finger at Sofia. “You scared us. When we didn’t hear from you for a few days, we thought something happened to you.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. The last few days were just too hectic for phone calls,” Sofia said.

  “I already gave her hell. But she did track down our great-uncle. May I introduce Angelo, the famous and infamous member of the Segantino family,” Nicholas said with a flourish.

  “More infamous than famous,” Angelo said quietly. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “This is wonderful,” the woman said. “Benvenuto.” She shook hands with Angelo. “I’m Luisa, Julietta’s mother and this is Donna, my mother. She pointed to an old woman who stepped into the room, carrying a large soup tureen filled with what looked like minestrone. She put it on the dining table and nodded at Angelo with a quick smile. “Buongiorno.”

  “Oh, and here is my brother, Edoardo.” Luisa motioned at the door, where a tall, slim man with dark hair and a short beard appeared. He gave a slight bow and shook hands with Angelo. “Buongiorno, signore.” His eyes were quizzical, but not hostile. Angelo recognized this look, this expression somewhere between suspicion and cautious acceptance. He had met with it often.

  Angelo guessed that everybody in the family knew of his dubious reputation. The other members showed no hesitation and had greeted him warmly. This man, however, reserved judgment as to what he thought of this newcomer. Angelo appreciated his honesty.

  They all sat down to lunch, which was plentiful and excellent. They started with the soup. Aside from bistecca or steak, there was an assortment of vegetables as well as risotto. Edoardo poured the wine, a Sangiovese.

  Lunch was relaxing. They didn’t ask Angelo any questions, for which he was grateful. In spite of a good night’s sleep, he felt tired. His mind was still trying to digest all the changes over the past few days. He missed Rivalta already, his work with the school, the youngsters. He hoped that his assistant, a capable but still inexperienced young man, would be able to manage the job. He missed Abbot Francesco and, most of all, Miriam.

  Seeing Miriam again had made him realize how much he still loved her. He was wrong just disappearing, and he hoped they would meet again and she would eventually forgive him. He had been able to call Don Ambrosio from Vignaverde and explain the situation to him. All his friends had wished him well and had told him to come back soon.

  Would he be able to? Would he be able to clear his name? Whenever he thought about what lay ahead for him in California, he felt his heart constrict. What if he couldn’t prove his innocence and ended up in jail?

  Somebody had asked him a question or said something to him. He realized that everybody was looking at him.

  “I’m sorry, I was somewhere else with my thoughts,” he apologized.

  Edoardo smiled at him. “No problem. Luisa asked if you would like an espresso with dessert.”

  “Oh, thank you, yes, I’d love one,” Angelo said to Luisa.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Edoardo suggested and motioned at the sofa and easy chairs next to the glass door leading out to the patio. “Perhaps now, Angelo can tell us his story.” He sounded determined and the message was clear. I want to know if we are hosting a criminal.

  Chapter 41

  Over coffee and ice cream, Angelo gave the family an overview of his life back in California, what made him leave and come to live in Italy, his work here, and, most of all, his sadness about the mistakes he’d made, his friend’s death, and his fear of what awaited him back in California.

  After he finished his story, Angelo looked drained. It was quiet in the room for a while. Abruptly, Edoardo got up and walked over to him. He put his hand on Angelo’s shoulder.

  “Thank you for sharing this with us. You have led an amazing life. Have faith. Things will turn out all right. God has forgiven you. Now, you must forgive yourself.”

  “Grazie.” Angelo took the last sip of his coffee, then got up. “I think I’m going to step outside, get some fresh air.”

  “Perhaps Nicholas and Sofia can show you the property?” Edoardo suggested.

  “What do you think, Uncle Angelo?” Nicholas asked. “Unless you want to be by yourself.”

  “No, I’d love to see the estate. Thanks.” Angelo seemed relieved.

  The three of them went outside and took a leisurely walk past the houses toward the vineyards. On the way, Sofia told Angelo how she came to meet her sister and the Santucci family. She told him of the double life her father had lived, that he had hidden the fact that he’d had an affair with Luisa in Vignaverde, had fathered a child—her sister Julietta—and had bought two of the vineyards because the estate was in financial trouble and needed money. It was only after his death that Sofia found out about all of this.

  After Sofia finished telling the story, Nicholas put his hand on Angelo’s arm. “As you can see, Uncle Angelo, we are not the only family with an unsavory past.”

  Angelo gave a quick smile. “Indeed. But Sofia’s story has a good outcome. She inherited two gorgeous fields of grapes.” He pointed at the vineyards. “And a beautiful sister, and a family.”

  “Yours will have a good outcome, too, Uncle Angelo.” Sofia gently touched his arm.

  “I hope so. Whatever happens. It’s better than hiding.”

  A little later, Julietta joined them. They walked past the vineyards, admired the Sangiovese and Merlot fields, the spring flowers in the meadows, and the stone pines and olive groves of the neighbors. The twittering of birds was drowned by the sound of the trimming machine, which drove between the rows of vines, cutting back the dense tops of the foliage.

  At the bottom of the hill, Julietta opened the door to the underground cellar where all the wine barrels with the aging wine were stored in racks, four barrels high.

  Memories flood
ed Sofia as she entered the cellar. She had almost been crushed by one of the huge barrels when she first came to Vignaverde. As they walked along the rows of barrels, she inhaled the slightly musty smell.

  After climbing back up the steps of the cellar, Angelo stopped, his face pensive. He looked around the estate. “It all comes back,” he said, quietly and put his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “My brother’s and your father’s vineyards in California. I could’ve been part of it, had I not been the lazy and greedy bum I was.”

  “You can still be part of it, when you come back,” Nicholas assured him. “We all need help, especially my father who runs like crazy all over the world taking part in contests and advertising rather than taking care of his vineyards.”

  “Then who does take care of them?” Angelo asked.

  “My brother and sister and he has a slew of employees, but he’s always short-handed.”

  “As much as I enjoyed my job at one of the vineyards in Italy,” Angelo said, “I did it mainly to support myself. I don’t have the passion for it. I guess this was one of the reasons, aside from my laziness, I never got into it back in California. My job as counselor, working with troubled youth is more meaningful to me.”

  “I know what you mean, Uncle Angelo … may I call you Uncle?” Julietta smiled at Angelo.

  He put his hand briefly on her shoulder. “Of course, you may. You’re my great-niece’s sister, so yes, I’m your great-uncle, too.”

  “Well, I grew up on a vineyard,” Julietta said. “I love to help out. I love our beautiful estate. But I decided not to become a vintner and winemaker like the rest of my family. I am more interested in science.”

  “Good for you,” Angelo said. “You have to follow your heart when you chose something you’re going to do the rest of your life. Or at least part of your life. Sofia told me you’re going to study at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo next spring.”

  Julietta nodded. “Yes, I am very excited about it … and very nervous.”

  Sofia hugged her. “No need to be nervous. You’ll do well.”

  After their leisurely walk through the estate, Julietta returned to the main house and the others went back to Sofia’s home. Angelo told them he’d like to take a brief nap. He looked tired, the lines in his face seemed to have deepened.

  “Angelo is worried about going back,” Sofia said to Nicholas, as they sat on the patio, drinking lemonade.

  “I’d be worried, too, if I were him. We don’t really know what’s going to happen,” Nicholas said.

  “You don’t think, he’s going to be arrested, do you?” Sofia asked.

  Nicholas shrugged. “I have no idea. Grandpa didn’t have any news when I talked to him last. From what I gather, they’re still trying to figure out who killed Fred.”

  Chapter 42

  Sofia, Nicholas, and Angelo spent a week in Vignaverde before their flight back to California. They took Angelo to the town of Vignaverde and showed him the neighborhood. It was a pleasant and, for the most part, relaxing time. Julietta accompanied them when she was free. She was a chatty young woman, who told him stories about her college and her life on the estate. She most of all helped Angelo take his mind off the upcoming return to the United States.

  Although he was eager to see his brother and family again, he dreaded leaving Italy, his second or by now his first home, without knowing what would happen to him. Would he ever be able to return or would he end up in an American jail for a crime he didn’t commit?

  The few vacation days went fast and a week later, they said goodbye to the Santuccis and Sofia drove Angelo and Nicholas to the airport in Florence where she returned her rental car. They flew back via Frankfurt. On the plane, Angelo was able to sleep a little. As the plane descended toward the airport, his heart pounded.

  In Los Angeles, they walked through customs without problems. When the customs officer asked Angelo how long he’d been abroad and he said twenty years, the man fixed him with a quizzical look. “You haven’t been back for such a long time?”

  Angelo shook his head. “No, this is my first time back. I probably won’t recognize anything anymore.”

  The officer stared at the computer screen for quite some time and Angelo began to worry. Was there something about him being a fugitive? They might arrest him right there. “Well, welcome back,” the man finally said and handed him back his passport.

  “Thank you.” Angelo took a relieved breath.

  After the short flight to San Luis Obispo, they picked up their luggage and walked into the arrival lounge.

  “Damn.” Nicholas stopped.

  “What’s the matter?” Sofia asked, then exhaled deeply. “Bummer.”

  Angelo stared at them. “What?”

  “It’s the investigator I told you about, George Silver.” Nicholas motioned with a quick movement of the head toward the exit.

  “This is it,” Angelo said with a sinking heart, as he examined the middle-aged, robust man with a crew cut walking toward them.

  He nodded a greeting to Nicholas and Sofia, then faced Angelo with his sharp gray eyes.

  “Angelo Segantino?” The voice wasn’t threatening or unfriendly.

  “Yes.” Angelo’s voice was trembling a little.

  “It’s been a long time,” the man said. “I’m Inspector George Silver. I’m in charge of the investigation of Fred Leonardi’s murder.”

  Angelo took a deep breath. “So you’ve come to arrest me.”

  Silver stared at him, but Angelo detected a humorous spark in his eyes. “Why would I want to arrest you?”

  Angelo looked at him puzzled. “Well, I’m the prime suspect, am I not?”

  Now Silver gave a quick smile. “You’re right. You were the prime suspect … until about a week ago.”

  “What happened?” Nicholas asked.

  “There have been new developments. We have a confession from the killer.”

  Angelo, Sofia, and Nicholas looked at each other, then at the investigator.

  “Who was it?” Angelo asked. “Anton Leonardi?”

  “No, but he ordered the killing.”

  “I knew it,” Angelo said, anger rising in him. “The bastard. He shot a man, and Fred and I witnessed it. That’s why he killed him.” The anger disappeared, replaced by relief. He was no longer a murder suspect.

  Silver glared at Angelo. “Why didn’t you report the murder? Why did you just disappear?”

  Angelo lifted his arms, then lowered them again. “Many reasons. For one, I was terrified. I wasn’t exactly a model citizen. Nobody would’ve believed me.”

  “We need you to make a statement,” Silver said. “And because you’re so good at disappearing, I want you to hand over your passport. You kind of remind me of Houdini, you know … the old magician.”

  “I have no intention to disappear again.” Angelo handed him the passport. “I hope I’ll get it back. I do need to return to Italy, eventually.”

  “You’ll get it back when you come to my office to make your statement,” Silver said.

  “What about Anton Leonardi?” Angelo asked.

  “He’s no longer a threat. This is the second piece of news,” Silver said. “Anton Leonardi is dead.”

  “Dead?” Angelo looked at him stunned. “Somebody killed him?”

  “No. He shot himself,” Silver said.

  There was a moment of shocked silence. “How? Why?” Sofia asked.

  “I guess destiny finally caught up with him. He discovered he had terminal cancer and wouldn’t live long.”

  Angelo’s heart skipped a beat. The thought that the man from whom he had been hiding for so long was dead was only slowly registering in his mind. “My God. Well, I’d have to lie if I said I was sorry.”

  “I think nobody is sorry, except maybe his wife,” Silver said. “We also have a statement from one of his mobster friends that he killed a man twenty years ago in California. It must be the murder you witnessed. In order to fully close the case, your statement is going to be
very important.”

  Angelo took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I should’ve done it a long time ago.”

  “Perhaps you could’ve prevented further crimes, had you come forward.” Silver touched him lightly on the shoulder. “But be this as it may. You’re a free man.”

  Angelo cleared his throat. “I was involved in what I think was illegal work. We were transporting goods for Anton. I don’t know for sure what it was, but it couldn’t have been legal.”

  “Tell me about it in my office,” Silver said. “The statute of limitation for smuggling contraband has probably expired after twenty years. Anyway, I’ll let you go. There are some people from your family waiting for you.”

  Angelo glanced toward the exit. The emotions overwhelmed him when he recognized his brother.

  Chapter 43

  Martin and Maria had aged, of course. Martin was still tall and slim, now with gray-and-white hair instead of the dark hair Angelo remembered. Maria had gained some weight, but was as lovely as ever. Angelo’s eyes teared up and he blinked as Martin walked toward him.

  “Angelo,” Martin said, his voice breaking.

  The two brothers embraced for a long time. When they let go of each other, tears were coursing down their cheeks. They both pulled out handkerchiefs and wiped their faces, then gave embarrassed grins, and hugged again.

  Angelo then turned to Maria and they hugged as well. “I’m so glad you’re back,” Maria said, her voice trembling slightly. Angelo inhaled her light lavender scent and it triggered a memory from a long time ago. Maria and Elvira had used the same body lotion. He sighed deeply at the memory of his wife. Her death had been another reason why he’d had to leave his ruined life behind.

  Angelo looked at a young man and woman standing next to Maria, trying to remember who they were. He was short and sturdy with the same black eyes he himself had. Was it Nicholas’s younger brother? “Matthew?” he asked.