They were. Kurt’s fingers hovered above the keys, terrified to read more. He may as well have been reaching for a hot stove. He clenched his jaw, breathed out, and scrolled down the page.
New Age Adoption Agency incorporated the same week Gloria had her miscarriage. He half-smiled. “You’re not crazy, after all, Gloria. But I wish you were.”
Sibli was a shell of the Puglisi Family in Rhode Island. The Puglisis who framed him. Who set him up, promised him ten grand to blackmail a senator. And he had done it. Guilty as charged. Waltzed right in wearing the pizza delivery uniform and talked to the senator. But that was it. Talked. Someone else had murdered the senator and he had gone down for it and had been running and hiding ever since.
From that day on he’d torn up all evidence of Tim Perconi’s existence and lived in this identity he’d created. He’d moved all the way to fucking hot Florida, giving up New England forever. All to run from his old life, the law, and to get as far away from the Puglisi family as possible. He felt his blood pressure rise. Fucking bastards!
And now here was the family again. Goddamn it!
This put a whole new spin on Gloria’s situation. If the Puglisis were involved, who knew what really went down six plus years ago? They had enough connections and money to make anything happen. Scads of judges, doctors, and politicians in their pockets.
Maybe they did get Gloria’s baby somehow, then lied on the birth certificate. But why? Why go through all that for one kid?
Kurt shut his computer off, stuffed it in the black nylon case and headed out the door to see Gloria. He gazed at the wet brown coffee stain on the white throw rug. It would have to wait. He had bigger fish to fry. It was about damn time to stop running from the Puglisis. He grabbed the door handle and vowed to do whatever he could to crush the family once and for all. Not just for Gloria but for himself.
3.
Maison D’Espoir, Haiti, morning
Martine had not been able to sleep last night. She had a bad feeling about Boni. A sick feeling. When it was time to get up and go to the clinic today, she could not make herself get out of bed. She felt her tummy. Jiggly and loose from where her last babies had been. Gone now to some new home like all the others. Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her pillow.
She loved Dr. Tad but did not know how long she could continue this way. Watching Boni and her baby leave yesterday had killed something in her. Boni had such hope when she fell in love with her boyfriend. Hoped she could have a normal life, have her own baby and keep it. When the baby came out dark, Boni and Martine had been so happy. It proved they could still have their own babies. God had not punished them forever, had not changed their bodies to birth only the white ones created in them by Dr. Tad.
Boni believed she was going to have a new life with her child. Maybe become a nurse. But then Mr. Puglisi came in and said NO! She had to leave, he had said. He had not known about the baby of course, but Dr. Tad did. And he let them both go. Made them both go. Sent them off.
Martine had helped. Had pushed her best friend out the door, pried her fingers off the wooden post so Boris could close the gates.
Martine sobbed harder. “I am a monster now too, no better than the Tonton Macoute or Mr. Puglisi,” she whispered.
She heard a knock and turned her eyes toward the door. “Doctor Tad,” she said, wiping her eyes and sitting up.
His eyes were red-rimmed. He must have been crying too. “I’m so sorry, Martine. So sorry.”
“There was nothing we could do,” she replied. But they should have done something anyway, even if it risked their own safety.
“Do you mind if I sit?”
She moved aside and made a place for him. His hand still had gauze on it. The splinter had not been too deep, and she had cleaned it well. Martine was surprised he still had such a big bandage. A small patch should by now be enough. She reached to touch it but he pulled his hand away. “It hurts.”
“Ou byen?”
He nodded.
“Are you sure you are all right?”
“Fine. Just a little tender.”
“I am sorry I did not come to work,” Martine said. “I just—” Tears fell down her face and her voice failed her. She dropped her head down.
“All this time I’ve been telling you I had to stay here to watch over the girls. And that was true but I think now it’s time to leave.”
“You are sending me off?” Martine clenched her fist tight and tried not to breathe too fast. He could not do this to her.
“Of course not.” He took her fist with his good hand and unclenched her fingers. “I meant that we will go away together. Leave Maison D’Espoir. I feel badly leaving the others behind but I can’t save everyone and I can’t live like this anymore, always being afraid, always doing things that I know are wrong. And what you’ve had to do—no one should be put through that.”
“Where will we go?”
Dr. Tad had told her before that Mr. Puglisi would hurt him if he tried to leave. They could not go to the U.S. because he would find them. “Belize,” he finally announced.
“Belize?”
“Yes, it’s a small country near Mexico. Tropical like this one but with less corruption. I’ve been saving money for a long time and have quite a bit of it already in an account there. Mick won’t think to look for us in that country I don’t think.”
“All right.”
“You’ll go? With me?” He looked relieved.
“Yes, I will go.” Her heart beat wildly. Finally she could be free. Martine never thought she would really leave this place or Haiti, and here was her chance. To go away and be with Dr. Tad was her dream.
Martine kissed Dr. Tad’s cheek and then smiled at him. “I will go with you.” She scurried to her bureau and opened the top drawer. “I can be packed in five minutes.” She did not want to talk anymore because then things might change. He might decide to stay or leave without her.
“We can’t go just yet.”
The words were like a punch in her stomach or a belt whip on her back.
She turned to face him, two shirts in her hand. Foolish dreams. Too good to be true. “Oh.”
He stood up and hugged her. “We will leave. Just not yet. You don’t have a passport. I thought we’d go to Port Au Prince today and get you an application. We’ll start the process and have them rush it as soon as they can. The very second it’s done, I promise we’ll drive off and never come back.”
She threw her arms around him, dropping the flowered shirts. They spread out and formed a garden on the cool wood floor. “We will really go?”
“Yes. I promise. Come on. The girls can do without us for half a day. We’ll go and sign up for your passport then have something to eat and come back. But you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”
“I promise I will not tell.”
“We’ll just say we’re going for supplies.”
“What will happen to the others when we leave for good?”
“I’ll give them money and then open the gates.”
“What about the babies in their tummies?”
“They can keep them. Come on, we’ll talk on the way.”
“I will meet you out front. I need to do something.”
When Dr. Tad walked out, Martine went into the bathroom. She checked herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red but they would clear up soon. She splashed some water on her face. This was all happening so fast and she prayed that nothing would keep them from their new life in the place he called Belize.
She shut off the faucet, wiped her face and ran out to his waiting car.
4.
Starlite Motel, Miami, morning
Gloria sat at the small desk in her cramped hotel room and read through a manuscript, making notes with a red pen. A junior editor had already read it and had passed it onto her. A hundred pages into it and Gloria agreed it was something they had to purchase, despite its needing work—but then that’s what an editor was for. She smiled. A diamond in the r
ough. It was the best kind of author to sign because once they were polished you had them for their whole lucrative careers if you treated them right.
A loud knock at the door followed by “room service,” startled her. She looked at her watch. Ten in the morning. Well past breakfast time and too early for lunch. Plus she hadn’t ordered room service. Fear ran up her spine.
She put the manuscript down and called the front desk, keeping her voice as low as possible.
After four rings and a coughing fit, a tired old feminine voice picked up. “Front desk, can I help you?”
“Someone is at my door saying they’re room service but I didn’t order anything.”
“Hold a minute and I’ll check.” The woman coughed a little more, then composed herself.
“No. Don’t put me on hold, please.” Gloria had the phone cord wrapped tight around her fingers. “Don’t. Someone has been trying to kill me. I thought I had run far enough but please, just call the police, or security.”
“All right I will. Can I hang up now?”
So much for customer service. Gloria must have caught her on the way out the door for a butt break.
“Sure.”
Gloria set the phone in its cradle.
“Room service, Miss Hanes. Let us in, ma’am,” a man called from behind the door.
Room service my ass. She dialed Kurt’s number. He immediately picked up.
She started right in without even a hello. “There’s a man outside my door saying he’s room service, but he’s not. I called the front desk but they’re no help!”
“It’s okay. I’m just pulling into your parking garage now.”
“Why?” she was relieved but what was he doing here?
“I uncovered something we need to talk about. I know who’s after you.”
“Who is it? And why?”
“I don’t know why. I’ll tell you who when I see you. Whatever you do, don’t open the door for anyone.”
“How will you get in?”
“I’ll get in. Don’t worry. Hold tight.”
The call ended and Gloria waited, assuming he’d call right back. He didn’t so she sat on the floor on the other side of the bed. She stuck her hand under the dust ruffle and was pleased to find a space. It was a snug fit but she managed to maneuver her body under the bed. She slid herself all the way under and to the other side, so she could see the door.
She heard one more knock and then another voice. “She’s not answering, just use the key.” Two muffled voices!
There was a rattle and then the locked turned. Gloria held her breath.
“Ugh!” a man groaned. Then there was a series of thuds, like a boxer smashing a heavy bag with all his might. A body being pummeled. There came a loud bang against the door and she heard muffled whimpering.
The door opened and shut, and she sighed in relief when she saw a pair of worn out Dockers. No socks. Kurt. She heaved herself forward.
“I’m under here,” she announced.
He found her. His hands were covered in blood and his shirt was splattered. “It’s safe now. Get out from under there. You never saw me.” He rushed into the bathroom and shut the door.
Gloria got out from under the bed just in time for the door to open again. Two hotel security guards rushed in. “Miss Hanes, are you all right?”
“Yes. What happened?”
Before either of the guards could answer, one of the cops called the front desk and told them to call 9-1-1. “We’ve got a situation here.” Gloria imagined the man had waited his entire career to say that.
While Gloria waited for the guard to get off the phone she peeked through the doorway to the hall.
“Oh my God!”
“You should go back inside, Miss Hanes,” the other guard said.
She was transfixed. Two men lay on the floor. One was passed out. His face looked like it had been smashed with a baseball bat, rendering him unrecognizable. Blood, swelling, and bruises were all she saw now. Where his mouth parted, broken teeth sat behind split lips. His slack hand held a bloodied steak knife.
The imposter room service man next to him was still too. A knife wound in his abdomen. Black hole in the center of a red bullseye of blood on his blue hotel uniform. Gloria watched him carefully but his chest didn’t rise or fall.
She felt an arm pull her back into the room. Hotel security. “It’s better if you wait inside for the police.”
She didn’t argue.
A few minutes later, a team of paramedics and police stormed in and started taking pictures of the crime scene and the bodies.
A cop introduced himself to Gloria. “I’m Detective O’Grady.” He was tall, skinny, and about fifty. Thick gray hair and a wrinkled suit. The man looked worn out even though the day was still young. A burn out, she imagined. Just my luck.
He flipped open a pad. “Why don’t you tell me everything that happened, Miss Hanes?”
Careful to keep her eyes on O’Grady and not allow the others to wander to the bathroom where Kurt remained in hiding, she provided a filtered version of the truth, leaving out Kurt’s involvement. “I never opened the door, so I don’t know what happened out there.”
He nodded, hummed, and wrote something in his notebook. Good. He believed her.
“The woman at the front desk said someone has been trying to kill you.”
She was going to blurt out, “yes!” but stopped. Kurt had said he knew who wanted to kill her. What would it hurt to wait until after the police left, when Kurt could explain? Then they could give them facts. Kurt had saved her life but had killed that man outside. And who knew if the other one would survive? The police wouldn’t take that lightly. There was no proof those men were there to hurt her. Just her word. And Kurt’s belief in her. She closed her eyes.
Kurt Malone had protected her and she needed to return the favor. Hiding him in the bathroom was a start.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t tell the front desk that someone was trying to kill you?”
“I was sitting here reading.” She pointed to the manuscript on the desk. “If someone was trying to kill me do you think I could relax and read?”
“No Ma’am.”
“So, are you going to catch whoever did this?”
“Well, I think they’re pretty much caught. Neither of them are hotel employees. Seems one beat the other pretty badly and he fought back with the knife. The pounding you heard on your door was the scuffle, not room service. You must’ve filled in the blanks.”
“Open and shut, huh?”
“The knife in the one guy’s hand will likely match the stab wound in the dead guy. Not rocket science. We’ll run our investigation but you don’t have to be a part of it. Obviously, you didn’t see anything and the door was busted in during the struggle, but by then you were—”
“Under the bed.”
“So you’ve told us all you know.”
“Aren’t there cameras in the hallways?” She held her breath as she waited for an answer.
“Should be but there aren’t. Damn place charges enough you’d think they’d have better security.”
“Yeah, you’d think.”
They exchanged glances for another couple of seconds. She wasn’t sure if he was looking for a clue, for some slipup in her recitation, or just ogling her.
“Well, you have a good day. If I need you I have your number.”
“Yes, but I dropped my phone yesterday and broke it. I’ll get a replacement later today then the number will be good.” She walked him to the door and closed it as much as she could allow, given that Kurt had busted the lock. She pulled a chair against the door to secure it as best she could. Have a good day? What the hell kind of thing was that to say?
She waited a few more minutes before going toward the bathroom and lightly knocking. Kurt opened the door and she sucked in her breath.
His bloodied clothes were in a pile on the floor and he was naked except for a white hotel towel wrappe
d around his waist. He had wiped the blood off his hands with another towel, but both hands were stained red. “Didn’t dare turn on the water. Give myself away. Is it safe to shower?”
She nodded.
His muscles rippled under his skin as he reached for the shower handle. Her heart beat hard as she thought of pulling the towel off and jumping into the shower with him.
He had just killed someone. She should be afraid. But fear was the furthest thing from her mind right now. His brute strength and brutality enticed her. Drew her in. All she could think about was being close to him. “They’re gone, right? What did they say?” he aksed.
“They’re gone. I locked the door. They’re in the hall I guess, removing the men. I think one of them is dead.”
He smiled at her and it took every ounce of willpower she had to keep her hands off him. He turned the shower on and rinsed his hand underneath the stream while he waited for it to warm. The water turned pink from the blood and she noticed Kurt’s swollen knuckles. She pictured him beating the life out of the men who meant her harm, all to save her.
“Just one huh? That’s too bad.”
“Kurt, why can’t we just tell the police what happened? I don’t want you to get in trouble, but they can help—”
He sighed and took her hand. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Gloria. I need you to comprehend how big this is, to understand the kind of people we’re dealing with.”
“Some kind of conspiracy? The cops are in on it?”
“No, I don’t think so. But you need to stay hidden and if we involve the police, you’ll be in the public eye.”
“But they can protect me. A safe house or something.”
He shook his head doubtfully and rubbed her cheek softly with his damaged hand. “You are so beautifully innocent. You’re just going to have to trust me on this. Can you do that for me? I’ll keep you safe.”
She reached behind her and locked the bathroom door. Why fight it? He was gorgeous and in a towel less than two feet from her. Steam filled the bathroom and his bare skin glistened. She needed to feel close to him, needed to make love.
Kurt stared at her, unmoving.
He had just saved her life. Nothing was a bigger turn on than that, she thought. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them and reached for the top button of her blouse with his swollen fingers. She smiled and tugged his towel off, more than ready to repay him for saving her life.
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