Kate Concealed

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Kate Concealed Page 17

by Cindy M. Hogan


  “Italians keep their commitments,” he said. “They do what they say they are going to do.”

  She focused on the quiet voices in the background. “Keep her on. A little longer.” On instinct, she hung up. His words echoed in her mind. Italians keep their commitments. They do what they say they are going to do.

  Was he tracing her call? Is that what had been happening? It had to be. He had been stringing her along yesterday, pretending to still want to meet with her. She had messed it up by being here. No wonder he was cross. He had planned on ambushing her simply because she was a Bellini and he was a Gatti. She hoped she had hung up in time. It didn’t really matter, she decided, if they had pinpointed her location. She was on the move and Venice was a big place. She had told Martino she was in Venice. Maybe they were hoping she was in a hotel room right then. Her heart ached just a little thinking about Martino betraying her. She obviously wasn’t a good judge of character. Her phone vibrated. Martino. She would not answer. Fear reared up in her again. Doubt raged. What was she doing? She was no match for these people.

  The heavy feeling of being watched slammed into her. Impossible. Kate stopped at a little park area, hoping someone would be there to help her feel safe if only for a minute, but it was empty. She felt cold though the evening was still warm and her mouth felt sandpapery. She repeatedly checked her phone for messages, but none came. Not even so much as a text from Martino. She startled at every sound, her eyes darting from place to place. She knew she was acting like a victim, but she couldn’t help it. She thought back to her protection classes and what her instructors advised to do to find courage. Her mind seemed scrambled.

  She wanted to get back to her grandparents. She clasped her hands to stop the shaking and stood, hoping that would clear her mind. It didn’t. All she could think about was how scared she was that Martino had traced the call and the Gatti family was about to snatch her. Maybe she could go and get a police escort. She thought over the day and realized she hadn’t seen a single cop let alone a police station. She fingered her locket and then huffed. She couldn’t stay here all night. She started to walk again, staying in areas that seemed the most well-lit.

  Feeling alone with no eyes watching her, she breathed out a sigh of relief and picked up the pace, laughing at herself for being so paranoid. Then out of nowhere, someone grabbed her. She thought of what Duran had taught her, but what could she do now that someone was on her? She didn’t have three steps to work with. She called on her self-defense course instead and stomped hard on her attacker’s instep. His grip loosened, so she used her elbow to jab him in the gut. He bent over, his grip relaxed, but not enough. She reached for the knife and pulled it out. She swung at his thigh, making contact and letting the blade sink deep. The man gasped and his grip retracted as he clutched instinctively at the wound. Kate was sickened by the feel of the knife sinking in, but she didn’t let it distract her enough to leave the knife behind. She pulled it back out. The man staggered back.

  And she ran.

  Duran had been right. She had used it when she had needed to. She ran past her grandparents’ home and around the block to the house behind theirs. She crept into the small back yard and climbed over the stone wall. Only then did she allow herself a moment to catch her breath. She leaned on the wall, breathing hard and fast, forcing herself not to cry. She heaved a few times, but didn’t throw up. Her knees buckled a little as she stepped from the wall, but after taking another deep breath, she was able to continue walking. She pulled out her phone to call Duran to tell him to forget it, but realized she had no number for him. She needed to tell him about Martino and the attack.

  She decided against going through the back door, afraid she’d freak her grandparents out. Instead she unlocked the gate and slinked along the exterior wall to the front door making a mental note to be sure to lock the gate before she left for the night. When she knocked on the door, her grandparents ushered her quickly inside. Before she could pull up a translation app to try to communicate, someone rapped on the door. Her grandparents startled and began talking animatedly to each other. The app popped up and she typed in friend. Then she repeated the word, amico, several times as she walked toward the door. Both stood up, reaching their hands out to her and shaking their heads. Kate held her hand out, trying to reassure them and repeating, amico, amico, until she opened the door and let in Duran.

  She needed to tell him about Martino and the attack, but she could hear the concerned conversation of her grandparents behind her. Once she shut the door, she said, “They aren’t taking your presence well.”

  He nodded, taking in the scene. “I’ll talk to them and calm them down.”

  He started speaking as he walked slowly toward them. Soon he had her grandma smiling while he held her hands in his. Kate’s grandpa had also relaxed. They even did the whole kiss the cheek thing. They repeated the word fidanzato, looked at Kate, and smiled. Whatever that word was, it seemed to make everything better. The two of them sat back down on the sofa with smiles on their faces. Duran moved toward Kate and took her hand before motioning that she should also sit. “They understand that I’m here to interpret and that I’m no threat. Let’s start. What do you want me to ask them?”

  “What did you tell them? What does fidanzato mean?” She stumbled over the word.

  “Boyfriend.” He looked quickly away.

  Warmth rushed throughout her body. Just the thought of him thinking of calling himself that made her feel like she’d won the lottery. Martino and the attack flew out of her mind. “Everything. Ask them about my parents and me.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  She bit her lip and stared at him with pleading eyes. “This may be my only opportunity to find this stuff out.” Kate turned on the voice recorder on her phone. She didn’t want to miss a thing.

  Duran nodded and asked her grandparents to tell Kate’s parents’ story. Then he interpreted, his voice low but clear as her grandmother spoke.

  “Your mama loved you and your father. Story of true love at first sight. Her husband had a good job in New York. They were happy. Baby born. You. They cherished you. Everything changed. Shortly after they went back to the States, your grandparents started getting strange phone calls from her and letters about how they were mixed up with bad things. Your grandparents don’t know what, but she didn’t want you involved with it.” Kate’s grandma got up and pulled some papers out of a chest. She held out a bundle of letters tied together with ribbon, then set them on the side table. Kate wanted to snatch up the letters, but figured there would be time for that later. “Your mother wanted to get away from that life for you. Your grandparents were so worried. Your grandma was so upset. Then one day, your mother called from a public phone booth and told them she found a way out and everything was going to be okay.

  “They didn’t hear from her for several weeks. Then they knew they got a message from a priest, telling them that your mother was very hurt because she’d been shot in the head and was in a coma. He wasn’t sure she’d live.” Her grandma got all choked up and her grandpa pulled her close. Duran gave Kate a concerned look. “Your grandparents wanted to fly out, but the priest said it was impossible. There was too much danger. He said the bad men who hurt your mother would not hesitate to hurt them too and their daughter was going to need them. He said he would get your mother to them in Italy if she lived.

  “They followed the priest’s instructions exactly and held a funeral, arranging a fake grave for both your mother and you. After a couple of months, your mother arrived and a man told them they had to keep her here and care for her; that she had to stay hidden because if the men who shot her knew she was alive, they would come for her and kill her and your grandparents. He also said your mother might not live long, but she’s been with them, alive and beautiful for all these years. They were so happy to have their Carmela back, but they felt the hole that came from knowing their Constanzie, you, were gone.”

  Tears streamed down Kate’s face. �
�Why?” Kate said. “Why did they shoot her?”

  Her grandpa spoke then. “She was telling the authorities about the bad things they were doing and the people they worked for found out.” Duran coughed.

  “So she was a nark?” he blurted and then gave Kate a confused look. Kate blanched. Her chest felt tight, her breath bottled up inside.

  Kate nodded. Duran’s face went slack. Then her grandma spoke and Duran continued to interpret, his voice halting and unsure now. He stared at Kate, sympathy thick on his face. “You made her see the evil they had gotten wrapped up in and she didn’t want that for you. She was brave, reaching for more. She chose good over evil and that will be well with her in the end. God has open arms for her. Your grandparents are proud.

  “The priest told them you’d been killed. And yet, you are here. You look as she did at your age. Lovely. They know you are excited about finding your mother, but you cannot tell anyone. Anyone but this sweet boy.”

  Kate turned to Duran and gave him a look.

  “I’m only repeating what they are saying.” He smirked. But the smirk didn’t remain long. He was obviously making connections Kate didn’t want him to make.

  “Just as I told you they would, they want you to stay so they can care for you, too.”

  Her grandparents stopped talking and it was Kate’s turn to speak while Duran interpreted her words. “I can’t. I wish I could. I’m so sorry. I have a family in the States. I was adopted. If things change…if the danger passes, I will return.”

  Her grandpa spoke. “Your mother wanted a better life. Always knew it was a risk. She wanted to come back here and be close to them again. They feel blessed to have her.”

  Kate moved back to Duran, tears filling her eyes.

  “They have taken you into their memory and will remember every bit about you. Every last detail until you return. And your mother. She sees you. They say. She knows you even though it seems she doesn’t. Those men destroyed her life as she knew it, but she is a fighter. She is in there.”

  The tears kept coming and Duran took her into his arms, holding her tight until she calmed down. He checked the time.

  “I hate to leave,” he whispered into her ear, “but I really have to go.”

  She nodded into his shoulder. “I understand.” She pulled back and they stood staring at each other for several moments. He spoke to her grandparents and hugged and kissed their cheeks in farewell. Kate took his hand and they walked to the kitchen. “I told them I had to leave and that you should wait a little bit and then go out the back way.”

  She nodded. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I know, but I have to. You can move on. We must move on. Whether we want to or not.”

  “I love you, Duran.” The words popped out and there was no way for her to take them back.

  It surprised her when he said, “I love you too, Kate.” He looked her in the eyes and she knew it wasn’t something he said as a reaction to her words. He truly felt it. “I don’t like how familiar this all sounds.” He pulled her close again and spoke into her hair.

  “You mean about my mother?” She hoped he hadn’t made the connection with Vinny.

  He nodded.

  “I know.” And out of nowhere, a thought came to her mind. “Wait!” She pulled back from him and walked into the living room.

  “The priest,” she said. “Did he tell you his name?” Duran translated again.

  “Si!” Her grandma got up and dug through some papers in a chest until she pulled out a light green piece of paper. It looked scarily familiar and Kate rushed to her bag and pulled out her own faded lime green sheet, her hand trembling. Her grandma perused the paper in her own hand and called out, “Ach!” and said a bunch of stuff in Italian and then set it back into the chest. She turned to her husband and spoke to him.

  “They can’t remember his name, but if she heard it, she would recognize it.”

  “That paper. Can I see it?” Kate stepped closer.

  Her grandma pulled it back out of the chest and held it out. Kate took it and held it next to the one she had. The paper she’d found in the attic with her baby things. The paper that Kate believed was written by the man that had saved her from the mafia when she was three. The handwriting on her grandma’s green paper was the same as on her green paper, but the signature at the bottom was clearer. She handed her grandma’s paper back and put her hand to her mouth, Kate’s paper shaking in her other hand.

  “What is that?” Duran said, moving toward her.

  “Nothing,” Kate said in a rush. “I thought it was something, but it wasn’t.” She put the note back in her bag.

  “No secrets,” he said. She stopped and held her note out to him, her face burning.

  He looked it over and read it out loud. “Savino—“

  Her grandmother called out and repeated Savino a couple of times.

  “What did she just say?”

  “She said that the priest’s name was Savino.” Duran continued reading the note. ”Here is the information you requested. Constanzie. Southern Ocean County Hospital. I’d say this was something.” He reached into the chest and compared the two documents. Nothing was the same except the signature. “Where did you get this?” Duran shook her note in front of her.

  “It was in my parents’ attic.” She saw betrayal written all over his face.

  Her grandfather stood up and took hold of Duran’s arm. Duran said a few things to him, smiling and he sat back down.

  “They were afraid for you. Can we move back into the kitchen or something?”

  She nodded and led the way.

  “Why do you keep stuff from me?” He looked disappointed. “Is this you, Constanzie?”

  “I was afraid to tell you. And I thought the signature was a Marconi, but I was wrong. That’s why I went after your uncle. I needed answers.”

  He stopped.

  “What is your mother’s last name?”

  She didn’t say anything. He repeated the question with a sterner tone. “What is your mom’s last name?”

  “Bellini.” She whispered it.

  He shook his head. “So, when you discovered you weren’t a Marconi, you decided you must be a Bellini? You’re a Bellini?”

  She nodded.

  “And you’ve known since Jersey?”

  She nodded. “And your dad? It’s Vinny, isn’t it? It was the picture. The painting in his office that tipped you off.”

  She nodded again, this time pressing her lips into a straight line.

  “His beloved Carmela is your mother.” She figured he was picturing the painting Vinny kept hung in his office of a beautiful woman and a face plate that read, My Carmela. She stared at him, her eyebrows scrunching together. “Don’t be mad.”

  “Does Vinny know?”

  She nodded. He huffed.

  She blurted, “He tried to protect me when he found out, but he was limited in what he could do.”

  “That’s why he saved you. I wondered. This all makes a lot more sense now.” He looked sad. Worn out. “I can even understand why you thought you had to keep it from me, and I won’t lie, it hurts that you didn’t trust me. And that you obviously still didn’t trust me even after knowing what I did for you.”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  “I get it. I do. But it hurts.” His shoulders hunched over.

  “I’m so sorry. Do you know this Angelo Marchesi?” Kate tapped the signature on her grandma’s green notepaper. The mystery had been solved. No longer would she have to wonder who the middleman was that worked with Cremashci. She now had a name. A real name to a real person.

  He nodded. She could hear her grandparents speaking in hushed tones.

  “Who is it?”

  “A guy in a competing family, but he’s been gone for a while.”

  Her mind whirred. “So, now there’s no Cremashci and there’s no Angelo. Who helps people like my mother now? Who helps people like me?”

  “What are you talking ab
out?”

  “Cremashci, the priest.”

  “I know him. He was my priest, but Alzheimer’s took him.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t want to go into the details with him now. “He saved all kinds of people from the mafia. He was the one who arranged my escape and my mother’s.”

  “Then why is Marchesi’s name on these papers?”

  “He must have been the go-between. Savino gave to me to Angelo Marchesi, who gave me to my parents in Dallas. And it appears he also got my mother back to her parents, but now there is no one.” She shook her head and looked at her grandparents. Her grandma was leaning on her grandpa’s shoulder. They seemed happy, content. She had brought them that contentment.

  “Do you think someone has replaced Cremashci? Do you think he had someone he was training to take his place? Marchesi too?”

  “It’s not our concern. Forget about it.” Duran’s face was hard.

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. You have to.”

  “I need to speak with Cremashci.” Kate’s mind was whirring, ideas spinning in her head. She had to make sure they both had successors. There had to be a way to help people on the mafia’s hit list.

  “No. You don’t.”

  “I can speak with Cremashci and take over for him if he doesn’t have a successor. Maybe he can slip me in and help me take his place if there isn’t anyone else.”

  “Can you hear yourself? That’s crazy talk. Cremashci has Alzheimer’s.”

  “Yes. I’ll talk to him,” she continued, ignoring Duran’s protests, lost in the excitement of a fresh direction to take. “Then, you can turn me in to Vinny or something so I can be in the thick of things. I can work from the inside. Not at first, but I’ll build up to it.”

  “No. Way.” His words sounded final. “That’s never going to happen.”

  “I can’t just stand by while people get hurt. And we could be together.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Be together? It won’t work.” Duran scoffed. “And how are you going to come back?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll talk to Vinny.” She pressed her lips together like she was thinking hard.

 

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