Hiding in Plain Sight

by Mary Ellis

  ‘Some things never change. Does Emma still home-school her kids?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s one thing I forgot to ask her. Do you happen to know which church they attend?’

  Frannie thought for a moment. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s the one in Sumter. Not too many of their denomination around. Why?’

  ‘I might just stop in and check it out. I’m looking for a new church. Are there motels in Sumter?’

  ‘Of course there are, but I thought you were heading to Charlotte.’

  Jill flushed at her slipup. ‘Eventually, but I’m in no hurry. Except for right now. Could I have this coffee to go?’

  Frannie poured her coffee into a Styrofoam cup. ‘Lucky you. Someday I’m gonna get out of town and just drive with no particular place to go.’

  ‘When you do, I hope our paths cross again.’ Jill saluted Frannie with her cup and left a five-dollar bill on the counter. She’d barely reached her car when her phone rang. Caller ID revealed the name of her landlord. ‘Hi, Eric. I was just getting ready to call you.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Oh, no, you called me first.’

  ‘Since you’re not moving out, I’m inviting you to a welcome-home dinner for my father. Against doctor’s advice, Alfonzo checked himself out of the hospital. It’ll just be immediate family and you.’

  ‘In your restaurant? How are you planning to cook?’

  ‘I’m not. So many people sent food over, we’ll be pigging out for days. Please come. I might need your help if there are fisticuffs.’

  Jill had planned to spend the night in Sumter, then speak with Emma’s pastor tomorrow. Nothing like showing up on someone’s front stoop to make a person unavoidable. But considering how she’d treated Eric, she couldn’t turn him down. ‘I would love to come. I’ll be back to Charleston in a couple hours.’

  ‘Great, come to the main dining room at seven. What did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Just that I made progress on my case. We can talk about that later.’ She hung up, grateful she didn’t have to tell any more lies. And rather happy about seeing Eric tonight. Despite her better judgment whispering this is a bad idea, spending time with a handsome man who knew how to cook had definite appeal.

  Eric paced back and forth between the destroyed kitchen and the front dining room, distracted and out of sorts. He wasn’t used to organizing a hodge-podge of food prepared by others into a meal. With their paid staff on unemployment until the restaurant reopened, he only had his niece and sister to help. But it wasn’t the menu or the logistics bothering Eric at the moment. His impulsive decision to invite Jill to his father’s homecoming might have been a mistake. What if Alfonzo exploded into a fit of rage over how he handled the fire? Jill might get more than she bargained for with Manfredi dinner number two.

  For his transport from the hospital, his stubborn father had declined the private ambulance and ridden in Irena’s Lincoln. When Alfonzo emerged from the back seat, supported by Mike Conrad, he looked pale and drained. Eric had been ordered to remain at Bella Trattoria instead of coming to the hospital. That didn’t bode well for what was to come. When Eric rearranged the platter of fresh vegetables, the bowls of potato and pasta salad, and the basket of biscuits for the third time, his sister poked him in the back.

  ‘It looks fine, little brother. Stop fussing.’ Bernie set a stack of plates on the table. ‘What’s the main course?’

  Eric rolled his eyes. ‘Tonight’s diners have a choice between fried chicken or stuffed cabbage. Sort of like a picnic with an ethnic twist.’

  Bernie laughed. ‘Sounds like fun, but what’s with eight chairs?’

  ‘Jill is joining us. It was an impulsive decision, so let the games begin.’

  ‘Ahhh, mio figlio e mia figlia.’

  The siblings turned to see his parents and grandmother approach the table. Alfonzo leaned heavily on a cane, but had refused his wife’s arm. Danielle and Mike approached from the small dining room where they had been watching TV.

  ‘Open a good bottle of Cabernet, Bernadette,’ Alfonzo instructed.

  ‘No, Daddy. You’re on meds, so absolutely no wine.’

  ‘Not for me, for the others. I’m glad to be home with my family.’ Dad lowered himself into his chair.

  ‘I’ll get the wine, Bernie, while everyone starts on salads.’ Eric bolted before his sister could argue with him. It was seven o’clock. With Jill expected at any moment, he’d rather not have her wander in alone. Five minutes later, he’d found two decent Cabernets in the cellar and opened one before his guest strolled downstairs.

  ‘At least it’s no longer smoky in here,’ said Jill. ‘What can I help you with?’

  ‘Not a thing.’ Eric’s gaze traveled from Jill’s high heels to the butterfly clip in her hair, with a cool blue sundress in between. ‘Wow, you look nice. Did I not mention you were only eating with the Manfredis?’

  ‘When one dines with the patriarch, one should look their best.’ Jill held open the door while he carried a tray of glasses and wine bottles.

  ‘Just remember to duck if objects start flying.’

  Eric began introductions before they reached the table. ‘Dad, this is Jill Wyatt, our new tenant. Jill, Alfonzo Manfredi, my father.’

  Alfonzo struggled to his feet. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss Wyatt.’ He extended a leathery palm.

  ‘The pleasure is mine, sir.’ Jill shook hands and sat on Eric’s left. ‘No wine for me,’ she whispered in his ear.

  ‘Won’t you toast to my son’s good health?’ asked Nonni, who apparently had a miraculous restoration of her hearing.

  Jill replied without hesitation. ‘Certainly, but I’ll use water.’

  ‘Leave the girl be, Mama, not everyone imbibes.’ Alfonzo offered a rare smile in Jill’s direction. ‘Son, please say grace and let’s get started. We can save the toast for another time.’

  Eric did as instructed. Soon bowls and platters went flying around the table and an inordinate amount of food was consumed. Conversation was lively, mainly confined to national sports and the effects of the never-ending drought. Just when Eric thought they would make it through the meal without anything embarrassing, his niece asked the question he had hoped to avoid.

  ‘Grandpa, did you hear Uncle Eric insisted on an arson inspection?’ Dani popped a grape tomato in her mouth.

  As silence fell around the room, five pairs of anxious eyes locked on Alfonzo. ‘Yes, your grandmother told me. And I think it’s an excellent idea.’

  Eric could be mistaken, but he thought he heard the release of a collective breath. ‘I’m glad I haven’t disappointed you.’

  ‘But when will this inspector come?’ Bernie demanded. ‘We can’t start repairs until he makes his report. The longer we’re closed the better the chances people will find a new favorite eatery.’

  Mike Conrad chimed in on his wife’s side. ‘If the inspector concludes it was arson, the police get involved and who knows how long the investigation will take.’

  Alfonzo thumped the table with his fist. ‘And if nobody inspects, that sly dog will get away with it.’

  ‘What sly dog?’ Jill asked.

  ‘Salvatore Borelli, that’s who.’

  ‘Why on earth would Sal do such a thing, mio marito?’ His mother pushed more food around on her plate than she ate.

  ‘Because that sly dog knew I was in the hospital. He’d like nothing better than to put me out of business.’ Alfonzo threw down his fork with a clatter. ‘I want him arrested.’

  Irena clucked her tongue. ‘Please don’t work yourself up. You know what the doctor said.’

  ‘The police can’t arrest someone without proof,’ said Eric. ‘And any evidence burned up in the fire. Why don’t we talk about something else since we have a guest tonight?’

  Ignoring his suggestion, Alfonzo turned to Jill. ‘What does our resident investigator think?’

  Jill was quick to answer. ‘I think that inspector needs to get here soon before mo
re evidence is destroyed.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Wyatt. You are welcome at my table any time. But my son is right. Now is not the time to discuss this, so if you’ll all excuse me, I’m tired.’ Eric’s father struggled to his feet and staggered from the room, with his wife at his side. Nonni followed two paces behind them.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Eric, we’re going too. Sorry to stick you with clean-up, but Danielle has an early class tomorrow.’

  After long goodnight pleasantries, the Conrads finally left and Eric locked eyes with Jill. ‘We seem to have both come through unscathed.’

  ‘And no fisticuffs tonight … much to my disappointment,’ Jill added with a wink. ‘Come on, I won’t run out on you. Let’s clean this mess up.’

  ‘We can wash dishes in the bar sink, but from now on, it’ll be paper plates or nothing.’

  Never had hand-washing plates and glasses proved so much fun. By the time he and Jill carried the bag of trash to the alley, he didn’t want the evening to end.

  At the foot of the stairs, Jill poked his chest with her finger. ‘I know you’re tired, Eric, but soon you will tell me all about this Salvatore Borelli. I won’t take no for an answer.’ Without waiting for his reply, she sprinted up the steps.

  ‘Just when I thought I dodged a bullet.’

  For a long while after Jill closed her door, Eric stood on the landing, trying to rein in his emotions. He didn’t like Jill and his grandmother alone in the restaurant with an arsonist on the loose, especially with the alarm system ruined. Despite the fact his soft bed in his condo was calling his name, Eric grabbed a pillow and blanket from storage and headed to his office. He’d rather be uncomfortable than worry about either of them.

  TEN

  Jill awoke to a fragrant breeze coming through the window and birds chirping in nearby trees. Eric had been right about leaving the windows open, but closing the shutters. She had lain awake long after the noisy tourists had gone to bed and the last carriage horse returned to his stall. Then she heard the foghorns from ships on the bay. Why did sound carry so much better at night? Lying in bed as a child, Jill remembered hearing train whistles yet had never once heard them during the day.

  Now as the city slowly came to life, Jill’s thoughts focused on her case. What good would it do if Emma was a match but her religion wouldn’t allow her to donate? And Jill was the last person who should debate religious convictions. Her spiritual upbringing ended when she entered the foster care system. Although her Pensacola friend had coaxed her to attend church with her a few times, Jill hadn’t stepped inside a church since she left Florida.

  Pulling on a T-shirt, sweats, and sneakers, Jill slipped out the back door and hit the streets. Before she drove to Sumter and blundered ill-prepared into a conversation with Emma’s pastor, she needed to formulate a plan and learning more about their faith was a good place to start. After jogging past nine churches of different denominations, Jill finally consulted Google. Although Charleston had a Church of Christ, Scientist, it was not in walking distance. However, there was a Reading Room on James Island. That might be a better place to start. Maybe she could find out everything she needed to know by just reading.

  Within thirty minutes Jill walked into a small, brightly lit building with racks of books and magazines lining the walls and several tables and chairs. Although there were no other patrons, her plan to learn without confronting another human being wasn’t to be. A well-dressed woman stepped out of the back room.

  ‘Welcome. Have you come to learn more about the Church of Christ, Scientist?’ she asked with a friendly smile.

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I have. I got a general overview online, but I need more than that.’

  Her smile widened. ‘Tell me what you learned so far.’

  Jill hunched her shoulders. ‘Generally you folks don’t go to hospitals or see doctors. No blood transfusions or immunizations either. You ask the members of your church to pray so you’ll get well.’

  ‘Not a bad start, I suppose. After all, Jesus Christ was the Divine Healer, wasn’t He? The Bible is filled with examples of believers healed by faith and faith alone. But we do have trained healers well-versed in Scripture who meet with members individually. They guide the sick through the process.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, but I have some specific questions. Is your pastor around so I can ask him or her?’

  ‘Why don’t you have a seat?’ She pointed at one of the chairs.’

  ‘No, thanks, I’m comfortable standing.’ Jill shuffled her feet, oddly nervous for no reason.

  ‘We don’t have a pastor.’

  ‘A minister or a priest?’

  ‘We have no clergy whatsoever. During worship services, a First Reader reads passages from Science and Health. Think of that book as our manual. Then the Second Reader reads passages from the King James Bible. Our weekly Bible lesson is supplied by the Mother Church in Boston.’

  ‘What about all this healing?’

  ‘We have meetings every Wednesday evening where members can give testimony of being healed through prayer. You’re welcome to join us sometime. It’s wonderfully uplifting. What is your specific question? I’ll see if I can help you.’

  Jill inhaled a deep breath. ‘What if a member desperately needs an organ transplant, or if one of their siblings needed a kidney? What happens then?’

  The woman’s face filled with compassion. ‘To the best of my knowledge the tenets of our church don’t specifically prohibit members from being either a donor or recipient. The choice would be up to the individual.’

  Jill’s mouth dropped open. ‘Do you think these Readers in Columbia or Atlanta or Montgomery would agree with you?’

  ‘I believe so, since we share the same Mother Church.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Jill grabbed the woman’s hand and shook vigorously.

  ‘You’re welcome, young lady. Don’t forget about our Wednesday meetings. They are a sight to behold.’

  Jill picked up a Monitor Weekly from the rack and ran to her car. Once back to her suite, she showered, packed, and headed toward the freeway. She needed to make sure people in Emma’s local church felt the same way as the James Island members. She wouldn’t return to Charleston until she got her answers.

  It was a good thing she’d packed pajamas and a change of clothes, because Jill wasn’t able to track down one of the Readers until the next afternoon. However, the nice man promised to visit the Norris family and discuss the matter with Emma.

  When Jill finally parked her Toyota behind Bella Trattoria late on Friday, she noticed only a Ford SUV under the magnolia tree and no Lincoln. That meant Mrs Manfredi had gone home to the suburbs, but Eric was still at the restaurant. Her good day just got even better.

  Eric barely glanced up when the back door opened and closed. Normally he would be happy to see Jill, but right now he was in no shape to make polite conversation with anyone. ‘Good evening, Miss Wyatt. Can I interest you in a glass of non-vintage Chianti? We don’t serve the good stuff on days like today.’

  Jill slid into the chair opposite his. ‘You know I don’t imbibe. What on earth happened? You look terrible.’ She moved the wine bottle beyond his reach.

  ‘You sweet talker. And here I thought I was growing on you.’ Eric rubbed a spot between his brows where a headache had begun. ‘How was your trip to Reston or was it Weston?’

  ‘It was Orchard, and it went better than I’d hoped. But why don’t you share your news first. Did you get a bad report from the State Fire Marshal?’

  Eric snorted. ‘The inspector is coming tomorrow morning. I still have that to look forward to.’

  Jill reached out to pat his arm. ‘I’ve only been gone two days. Did something happen to your dad?’ Her tender concern touched his heart.

  ‘You could say that. The doctor ordered him to rest in bed, drink lots of fluids, and not stress himself out. So they put an extra bed in Nonni’s room so she could keep an eye on him while my mother ran errands. That lasted all of one day
– Thursday. This afternoon he told my mother he was going out for some fresh air. Dad refused to let her walk with him.’ Eric paused for another sip of bitter wine. ‘Instead Alfonzo walked all the way to Tuscan Gardens, a restaurant owned by the Borellis, half a mile away.’

  ‘Sal Borelli, the man your dad thinks set the fire?’ Jill’s voice quivered.

  ‘One and the same. Needless to say, the two men got into a heated argument in front of customers. Sal’s wife and sons were furious and tried to kick Alfonzo out. Instead, the two old codgers left and continued their discussion on the street.’

  ‘Oh, Eric, the doctor warned him about stress. Is your father back in the hospital?’ She filled two glasses of water at the sink and gave him one.

  He drank half a glass before replying. ‘To the best of my knowledge he and my mother are home in bed in West Ashley.’

  ‘Thank goodness!’ Jill exclaimed.

  ‘Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end there. According to the evening news, Salvatore Borelli of Tuscan Gardens was found dead in a small park on Meeting Street, two blocks from his restaurant.’

  Jill gripped the edge of the table. ‘Perhaps the elderly gentleman suffered a heart attack.’

  Eric scraped his hands down his face. ‘Oh, his heart stopped all right, thanks to a bullet fired at close range.’

  ‘You can’t possibly think …’

  ‘No, my father might have a hot temper, but he’s no killer.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me what’s really going on here?’ asked Jill after a moment’s pause.

  ‘You’ve heard of the Hatfields and the McCoys? The Manfredis and Borellis have been feuding for years.’

  ‘What started it?’

  ‘Who knows? Maybe one got a better review in the Charleston Restaurant News.’ Eric rose to his feet. ‘We’re both tired. Let’s get some sleep.’

  Jill blocked his path. ‘You shouldn’t drive. You’ve had wine to drink.’

  ‘That’s why I’m sleeping on the pull-out couch in my office.’