Kate Concealed

by Cindy M. Hogan

  Kate didn’t want to go to the church that was full of Bellinis and expose herself to the clergy. She knew from her experience in New Jersey that if the Bellinis frequented that church, the priest was most likely neck deep in the family business. She’d have to be very careful not to call too much attention to herself. She thought about it and it occurred to her what she could do and it just might work. But she’d have to make a few stops on the way for supplies.

  17

  Kate made her way to the church after strengthening her disguise and hiding the locket beneath her clothes. It was off the beaten path, like the librarian had said, quiet and empty. The other churches near the main square bustled with tourists, lines flowing out the doors. She walked to the front and a priest came out. He was tall and thin with a pinched face. “Buon pomeriggio.”

  “Do you happen to speak English?” she said, trying to act naturally, but she couldn’t help but push on the prescription-less glasses she’d found to help with her disguise indoors. It wasn’t like she could wear sunglasses into the church.

  “I do.” His thinning hair was slicked back and looked wet. He pressed his lips together.

  “Great. I was wondering if I could look at the wedding records from these years for a project I’m working on.” She held out the sheet of paper.

  “That’s a lot of records. Maybe if you could tell me specifically what you are looking for I might be able to direct you.” He tapped his index finger on one of the pews.

  “Actually, that’s the fun of this project. I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for. Just anything that catches my eye that I want to run with.”

  “Okay. You can come back here to the records room. But know that these are precious documents with important information. They are not to be played with.” He swayed more than walked back to the room.

  “The records for those years are here.” He swung his arm out with a flourish, indicating a room to his left. “Please use these gloves and no flash photography.” He picked up some gloves from a shelf outside the door of the room and handed them to her. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything. And no food or drink. Not even gum.” He rounded his lips to pop the m-sound on gum.

  “Thank you so much.” She smiled as she stepped toward the room.

  He gave her a curt nod as a bulky man came barreling down the hallway. Kate held her breath and looked around for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. Nothing, only books. She was trapped. But, he didn’t seem to pay much attention to her. He gave her a hasty glance and led the priest further down the hall. A note of recognition flared at the back of her mind. She had seen that man before, but where? She shook her head. She was being paranoid. Every person she saw seemed familiar now. She stared into the room with volumes and volumes of books, then entered. She would be quick. Pulling down the first volume she flipped through the pages, stopping on a few entries and taking a picture then jotting down some random notes. She repeated the same actions with each volume just in case she was being watched. Because she had Carmela’s birthdate from the tombstone she had a better idea what years to search through. When she got to the one she really wanted, she flipped through it more slowly than the others until she found what she needed: the marriage record. Both of her grandparents’ names were there. She snapped the picture and jotted down some notes then continued to the next volume, doing the same with a few more records selected at random. She forced herself to stay a little longer taking some additional miscellaneous pictures. When she was done, she put the books back on the shelf and made her way toward the exit.

  The man who had run into her before she went into the records room stepped out in front of her. He crossed his arms over his large chest. At that moment, it occurred to her how she knew him. Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears, and she clenched her jaw as she pushed up against the doorjamb. He was the man Benito and Galtem had gone to the airport to pick up when they’d run into her trying to escape. Ricco. He’d only glanced at her at best.

  “Do I know you?” he asked in English that was barely understandable behind the strong Italian accent.

  He had recognized her after all. She had to get him off her trail. “Not unless you’re from Tennessee. You from there?” she asked, laying on a thick accent of her own. “I’ve only been two places in my life: Tennessee and Italy.”

  He narrowed his eyes and said, “Tennessee, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “You look so familiar, that’s all.”

  “Guess you’ve seen my twin then.” She smiled and a warning filled her gut, telling her to get out of there. She realized by saying that, she was making him search his memory even more. “Well, I’ve got to get going. Have a nice day, now.” As soon as she turned the corner, she whipped out her sunglasses and raced to the first store she could find that sold scarves and jackets. She bought another jacket and two more scarves. If something happened to give her away again, she wanted to be prepared.

  She opened the door to leave and noticed Ricco across the street, talking to someone. His head whipped around at the sound of the little bell tinkling on the door as she opened it. His eyes lit on her and she was about to run when she remembered she had all new clothes and glasses on. She tried to act natural, and realizing she had stopped in the doorway, forced her feet to take her out onto the path. While his gaze lingered on her for a few seconds, he soon turned back to the person he’d been talking to. She exhaled sharply and walked, swinging the bag from the shop that held all her old clothes and a few new ones. Her brain buzzed with fear, afraid he’d somehow known it was her and was following her. Her desire to turn and look was strong, but she fought against it. She would only check if he was behind her when she entered the library because it would be natural for her to look behind her as she swung the door open. The farther she got from the church without being accosted, the less stressed she felt. Certainly if he had been following her, he would have approached her by then.

  Realizing she was still far from the library and that it was probably going to close soon, she stopped at an Internet café and used a site Ellie had showed her to search for her grandparents.

  To her surprise, there was only one search result. Kate put the address into her phone and executed another search. It would take her half an hour to get to their home according to her maps app, but maybe she would finally get to meet her birth grandparents. She left the Internet café and started on her path. She hadn’t walked far before she felt someone following her. She glanced around, but saw no one. Could it be Ricco? No. She was being paranoid. He hadn’t followed her to the Internet café. Shaking it off, she kept going. Another block down, the feeling returned. She glanced around again. The feeling she was being watched was unmistakable. She picked up the pace and went into the first shop she came upon. She pretended to shop and kept looking out the window, but saw no one. She decided to go again, but left out a back door when the shopkeeper was helping another customer. Unless she picked up the pace, she’d never make it to her grandparents.

  Kate hurried as she walked and thanked God that it was still light outside as she followed the complicated directions on her phone. She decided to do as she’d learned in her self-defense classes. She would stand straight, walk purposefully, and fake a confidence she didn’t feel. The feeling of being followed hadn’t returned. She had given whoever was following her the slip, or maybe there was no one in the first place. Twenty-two minutes later, she’d reached her destination. Kate stood staring at a home sandwiched between two others when all her insecurities reached out and grabbed her. She wanted her grandparents to want her. She took in a deep breath and climbed the ten steps. She took another deep breath and rang the doorbell.

  An older gentleman came to the door. “Excusi,” Kate said. Then she read the names from the marriage license. She was sure she’d butchered them, and felt ridiculous that she hadn’t asked someone to pronounce them for her.

  The man did not respond, but stared at her instead, a confused or po
ssibly fearful look on his face. “You don’t speak English do you?”

  He shook his head, but continued to stare. A woman came to the door and Kate repeated the names. She hadn’t considered the possibility that neither would speak English and they wouldn’t be able to communicate. The man said something to the woman and she narrowed her eyes, her head leaning slightly to the right. Kate sighed and said to the air, “What do I do now?” She looked up at the sky, her hand going to her locket as it always did when she worried. When she let her head fall forward, the woman pushed on the door, staring at Kate’s chest. Instinctively, Kate took a step back.

  “No. No. Excusi.” The screen door was open now and the woman held her hands out, palms up as she motioned to Kate’s neck. Kate looked down and saw the locket. The locket! They’d recognized the locket. She unclasped it and held it out to them. The woman opened it and started to cry, opening her arms to Kate, ushering her into the house.

  The woman talked and talked, all in Italian, and even though Kate thought they understood who she was and how desperately she wanted to get to know them, her inability to communicate with them fully was giving her a headache. Kate finally pointed to herself and said, Constanzie. Both of them nodded and hugged Kate. They kissed her cheeks and her hands and then guided her to the back of the house. They had a small, grassy, flower filled backyard with a nice fountain. Kate saw someone in a wheelchair near the fountain. Her grandmother went down the steps and the man, her grandfather, encouraged her, with a nod of his head to follow. She walked down a wooden ramp next to the stairs.

  Her grandmother took her hand and led her straight to the person in the chair, whose back was to them, facing the fountain. She had long brown hair, and the few strands that sat in a patch of late afternoon sunshine shone in the light. Kate felt a bit curious about this person she was about to meet.

  They rounded the chair and Kate’s world stopped. Her hand left the comfort of her grandma’s and flew to her mouth as a gasp left it.

  Kate stared at the unseeing eyes before her. She took the last step forward and fell to her knees, her head resting on the woman’s lap for a few seconds before she clasped her hands in hers and kissed them, just as her grandmother had done only moments before. The woman gave no reaction, only sat there, staring past them.

  Her mother was alive.

  Kate’s tears wet her mother’s hands until she could compose herself. Her grandpa was now standing with his arm around her grandma, their happy gazes looking down at the scene before them.

  Kate sniffed and rubbed her nose on her sleeve. She rose and pressed her lips to her mother’s forehead before resting her forehead on her mom’s. Her mom smelled like roses and some unfamiliar spice. “Mom. I love you. I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’re alive.”

  Kate needed answers and she knew she wouldn’t get them this way. She needed an interpreter, and she knew just where to find one. He wouldn’t want to do it, but he was the only person she knew in Venice she could trust. She stood.

  “I need to go.” She used her hands to try to explain to her grandparents what was about to happen. “I will be back. I’ll bring someone to interpret.”

  They shook their heads like they thought Kate was going to do something bad. Her grandma put her finger to her lips and made the shhh sound. Her grandpa was saying something in Italian, frenzied and worried. Kate went to her grandma and nodded. “Sì. I won’t tell anyone she’s here. It’s a secret. I get it. Shhh!” Kate repeated. “Shhh!”

  They smiled. “I’m going but I will be back tonight. I won’t tell anyone. She is safe.” Kate hugged Carmela, then her grandma and her grandpa.

  She ran through the house, grabbed her bag from the sofa, but left her shopping bag next to the couch and hurried out the front door, a rush of hope enveloping her as she raced through the narrow streets of Venice, forgetting that she needed to hide until she saw her pursuer as she turned a corner. His eyes met her uncovered ones and they both seemed to freeze. Comprehension must have dawned on Ricco, because his strong legs propelled him toward her. She stepped back around the corner, her legs not wanting to cooperate. She ran, but knew she was at a disadvantage. She didn’t know the streets like he did. She would be captured. She should have listened to Duran and Ellie. Before she could round the corner to the other side of the building, he grabbed her bag and dragged her to the ground, pinning her with his knee on her chest and his hands pressing hers into the ground, her knuckles scraping on the cobbled path.

  “You are that girl from the airport. The girl that sent Galtem to prison. Salvatorio shouldn’t have sent you here. He always was overconfident.” He sneered.

  She could barely breathe, air coming in shallow bursts. She tried to move her hands, but he was too strong and he shifted, his other leg lying across hers. It occurred to Kate that Ricco wasn’t where he should be. He was a Marconi and not supposed be in Venice. He should be in Bologna. His encounter with the priest now took on new meaning. It had been an unfriendly meeting for sure. The only thing she had going for her was that he apparently didn’t know she was AWOL from the Bellini family. Not that it mattered, because Ricco wouldn’t be taking her to Bellinis, he’d be taking her to Marconis. She didn’t know which was worse.

  “Ehi!” Someone shouted and footsteps pounded toward them. One of Ricco’s hands flew to his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun. That was all Kate needed. Her free hand whipped up to his face and scratched at his eyes. His other hand left hers and swiped wildly at her clawing hands. The man who screamed had reached them and knocked the gun from Ricco’s hand. A shot fired into the building next to them. More feet stomped their way. Who were these people coming to help her? If any were Bellinis she would not fare well.

  Ricco rolled off her, pushing the man who had come to save her to the ground. Kate tried to catch her breath as she rolled to her knees and stood up. She grabbed her purse from the ground and pushed through the small crowd of people who’d assembled. Several women tried to stop her, grabbing at her with pained expressions of sympathy and saying words that Kate could only guess were pleas to help her. She brushed them off and kept going, running blindly down the path until she found a café to slip into, and heading straight for the bathroom to splash water onto her face. She should leave, catch the next train out of there and fly home. A sob built just thinking about the reality of the situation. Her birth mother was alive, but living a life no one should have to. Because of the Marconis and Bellinis.

  Kate didn’t want to wait too long in case Ricco escaped the mob of people that had descended on him and started looking for her again.

  She turned her jacket inside out, pulled her hair up and put on some big glasses. As much as she wanted to run to the train, she walked casually, hoping to look like she belonged. Once she reached St. Mark’s Square, she kept to the crowds, her head down. Her stomach growled as she passed several restaurants until she saw a sign that read, Francessco’s. Duran’s restaurant. She couldn’t help herself. She stopped and looked around, browsing the tables that sat in the square. No sight of Duran. Her eyes whipped to the building and she caught a glimpse of him taking an order from a guest. As if he felt her looking, his head snapped up, their eyes meeting. She wanted to go inside and talk to him, but knew she couldn’t. She commanded her legs to move and her head to look away. The tears filling her eyes were making it hard for her to see. She swiped at them as she rushed past several shops, getting closer and closer to her goal.

  She rushed down the stairs of the railway station and headed for the ticket kiosk. But as she passed the restrooms, she was shoved inside. She tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. She opened her mouth and tried to bite the hand, but a voice stopped her. “Kate. It’s me, Duran.”

  She froze, then melted into him, sobbing.

  He reached over and locked the door, cradling her in his arms. “Shhh! It’s okay. Where’s Ellie?”

  “Bologna. I think. I sent her away.”

  “You’re here
alone?”

  She nodded and looked up at him, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. “I found her. I found my mother.”

  “That’s why you’re upset? Why you’re leaving?”

  “No. I mean, yes. No.” She leaned her head back and said, “No.”

  “Slow down and tell me what happened.”

  18

  Kate sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, I found my birth mother and her parents, but no one in their house speaks English.” Small needles seemed to prick at every inch of her skin as she spoke.

  “Your birth mother doesn’t even speak English?”

  “Actually, she doesn’t speak at all.” A huge lump formed in her throat and Kate desperately wanted to swallow it, but found it impossible. More tears came unbidden and she buried her face in her hands. Duran continued to hold her tight. When she finally gained her composure, she said, “She lives with her parents, and I really want to find out what happened to her, but it’s impossible now. I have to get out of here.”

  “What happened? You’re shaking.”

  “I ran into Ricco.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He was badgering the priest at the church and, and he grabbed me. If those people hadn’t come, he’d still have me.”

  Duran growled. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him.”

  Kate patted Duran’s chest. “No.” Kill him? The idea that Duran was capable of killing someone hit her hard in the chest. “I’m fine. No one is hurting anyone.” Which wasn’t really true. She could feel a bruise forming on her chest where Ricco’s knee had jammed in and the scratches on her fingers still burned.

  He pulled her tight again, his hand brushing down her hair. “You’re safe now.”