Faith was twirling around a large oak tree, the pink tutu that Rosalia Garcia had given her that morning lifting as she spun, making her appear like a tiny bird. Her daughter appeared unscarred by what had happened in New Jersey, perhaps compartmentalizing the bad things that had been done with the bad people who had done them, not unlike her father. However, Jamie knew looks could be deceiving. She would continue to monitor Faith as the months and years wore on.
Below them, down the hill, the hollowed-out structure of the Upackk facility, which had been left abandoned for nearly four years, stood defiantly like a modern-day Colosseum, much of the concrete and lumber taken either by local builders or hoodlums.
An unseasonably warm breeze wafted up the hill, blowing Faith’s pigtails and the taffeta of her tutu and rattling the tree branches. It was easy to see why Bailino loved the upstate New York area—Jamie had learned to love it herself while she served as press secretary for Phillip Grand when he was governor of New York. Only a four-hour drive from New York City, the area offered a respite from all the noise and clatter. The slower pace had taken some getting used to, but she had found a pediatrician that she loved and had met some people who might one day become friends, which is why she had decided to return to the Albany area after President Grand’s tenure as president was complete. She would build a new home.
“Momma, look!” Faith called, twiddling Bailino’s gold chain that was hanging from her neck. She pointed north toward an open patch of grass where a deer was standing still, its ears twitching.
“It’s okay, honey,” Jamie said. “It won’t hurt you.”
“What’s it doing?”
“Maybe it hears something like a wolf or a coyote and wants to be ready in case they decide to chase it.”
“They always do,” Faith said and pet the top of Lucky’s head.
The deer scampered off into the woods, and Jamie surveyed the wide expanse of land that belonged to her daughter. She once thought it would be best to let Faith decide what to do with all she had inherited from Bailino—including the two thousand dollars in hundreds he had stuffed inside Lucky’s collar. Yet, something that he had said in his Wyoming greenhouse had resonated with her, how he had hired veterans to help with some of the odd jobs around the property: Gives them something to do. Makes them feel useful.
When she returned to Albany, Jamie planned to clear the remnants of the old factory and establish a foundation for military veterans and their families who had been physically wounded or had struggled with the aftermath of deployment or their service. If her plans came to fruition, the hollowed-out Upackk facility would house a large camp for military families to come and spend time together. She had already gotten the seal of approval and pledged support from the president, for whom, like Bailino, caring for the military had always been an important cause. And the First Lady had already started wrangling people for donations.
“Who knows?” Katherine Grand had said to Jamie. “One day, I may be working for you.”
Jamie’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and swiped the screen, not surprised to see the displayed name. “Hi, Mr. President,” she said.
Phillip Grand had been checking up on her often for the past six weeks, even more than Edward, which Jamie would have thought was impossible.
“Everything all right up there?” he asked. Jamie could hear Charlotte in the background clamoring for the phone. “Not now, Charlie,” the president whispered. “You’ll see Faith tomorrow.”
“Yes, we’re fine, Mr. President,” Jamie said. “We’ll be leaving in just a few minutes.”
“Good. Did you take care of everything you needed to take care of?”
“I think so,” Jamie said, picking up the watering can and looking back at Bailino’s grave. Phillip Grand hadn’t asked her what her plans had been involving Bailino’s remains, but she could tell he wanted to know. Perhaps, one day, he would be the only other person she would tell.
“Did you visit with Rosalia?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“Good,” Jamie said, although the old woman was showing signs of age. The death of Reynaldo had been hard on her. “I have four loaves of banana bread and two trays of homemade cookies in the trunk of my car with your name on them. She wanted to give more, but that was all I could fit.”
“Ah, a productive trip, indeed,” the president said. “I haven’t had Rosalia’s banana bread in years.” The president paused in his usual, thoughtful way. “Anything else worth mentioning?”
Jamie thought for a moment. “No, not really. I think that’s it.”
“Well then, have a safe trip, Jamie. We’re looking forward to having you back home.”
“I will, Mr. President. See you tomorrow.”
Jamie clicked off the call as Faith and Lucky played what looked like hide-and-seek around a large tree. “Come on, you two,” she called. “It’s time to get going.”
“Let’s go, Lucky,” Faith cheered as she ran past Jamie with the dog jumping beside her.
The two of them ran down the small hill toward the road, where Jamie’s car was parked on the pebbled shoulder. As soon as Jamie opened the back door, the two of them clambered inside, and Jamie strapped them into their respective seats and closed the door. She dumped the excess water from the watering can, placed it in the trunk, along with the tote bag, and slammed the trunk lid closed.
She took one last look at the tiny mound of dirt that was barely noticeable from the road, before circling over to the driver’s side and getting behind the wheel. She removed her ankle holster and placed it in the well of the passenger side. Eventually, she hoped to stow it someplace where she would never have to use it again. She had had her fill of bullets.
“You two ready back there?” Jamie asked, looking into her rearview mirror. Lucky’s head was lying in the little girl’s lap.
“We’re ready!” Faith cheered.
Jamie started the engine. The sun was shining in her eyes, and she pulled down her visor, which displayed the two photos she had clipped there earlier that day. She ran her finger along the glossy invitation that Rosalia had given her to Pedro Rodriguez’s wedding that spring. The photo showed Pedro and his fiancée seated in an old Cadillac in front of Santiago’s Garage with their arms outstretched wide and their smiles even wider. Jamie thought of Reynaldo, who probably would have been astounded that his little brother had gotten his act together and was finally settling down, but she also knew how very proud he would have been.
Then Jamie ran her finger along the surface of the second photo, which was smaller and grainier. She had thought of telling Phillip Grand while they were talking on the phone, since she had already told Rosalia, but decided to wait. Everyone would find out soon enough. Although it was too soon to know if the child would be a boy or a girl, Jamie told Rosalia that she planned on naming her baby Reynald or Reyne in honor of Reynaldo—her lover and her friend—and the old woman’s eyes lit up in a way that Jamie hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Jamie caught a glimpse of Faith’s dark eyes in the rearview mirror and as always saw in them the eyes of the man who had upended her life, for better and for worse. She put her hand on her belly. Edward would balk, but Jamie was thinking about giving her baby a middle name of Don or Donna, also in memory of a lover and a friend, but that was a decision for another day. She put the car into drive. For now, she would get back to the work and the family she loved, and her unborn baby would go by the name scribbled in black ink on the side margin of the ultrasound photo: Baby Carter.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The final book of the Baby Grand thriller series is more than just the end of a trilogy. It’s like saying good-bye to old friends. I have lived with these characters for more than twenty years—they’ve followed me around, whispering dialogue in my ears while I was driving, cooking dinner, lying in bed—and I will miss their company. As always, I want to thank my family, my friends, and all the fans of this series f
or their tremendous support—every kind word you’ve said to me, every comment you’ve posted on social media, every author event you’ve attended has meant so much. While it’s true that authors write alone, I never felt alone. And, finally, a big thank-you to actor Robert De Niro, whose film work, particularly in the 1990s, inspired the character of Don Bailino. As Phillip Grand thinks to himself in Baby Carter: It’s a strange thing to have a man be so absent from your life and yet make such an impression. I may be leaving behind this cast of characters, but there are many more ready to take center stage. I’m off on my next literary adventure. I hope you will join me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Voted one of the best Long Island authors for two consecutive years, Dina Santorelli is the author of the Baby Grand Trilogy, a contemporary thriller series. She has been a freelance writer for 20 years and has written frequently about parenting, travel, entertainment, pop culture, and the military. Dina currently serves as the executive editor of Salute and Family magazines for which she has interviewed many celebrities, such as Kiefer Sutherland, Kate Mara, Michael Strahan, Norman Reedus, Vince Vaughn, James Gandolfini, Tim McGraw, Carrie Underwood, and Kevin Bacon. Since 2010, she has collaborated on a variety of nonfiction titles, and her book Daft Punk: A Trip Inside the Pyramid has been published in several languages. Dina also lectures for Hofstra University’s Continuing Education Department and is a SELF-e Ambassador for the Library Journal. For more information about Dina, visit her website.
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COMING IN 2019!
A new thriller by Dina Santorelli
IN THE RED
When Kirk Stryker, a respected certified public accountant, is brutally murdered in his office in the Long Island village of Gardenia, all eyes are on rival Marty Benning, the handsome newcomer whose high-tech firm has been stealing Stryker’s business and attention. Muriel Adams, a middle-aged mom who has given up on love, falls head over heels for the charming yet enigmatic Benning, despite the warnings of friends and family, and when Benning is arrested for Stryker’s murder, she is the only one to believe in his innocence. Is Muriel blinded by love? Or is Benning playing her for a fool? In the Red is an emotionally charged contemporary thriller that follows the police investigation, media coverage, and political and economic fallout surrounding this high-profile crime, and, ultimately, uncovers a dark underbelly that reveals the dangerous places the heart can lead.
Baby Carter (Baby Grand Trilogy, Book 3) Page 28