“Yes,” he said, adding, “Daniel said I could work in here. There seems to be a problem with the WiFi in the carriage house.”
“Sure, sure. That’s fine,” I said. “Care for an iced tea? Lemonade? A nice cold beer?”
“I could go for a beer.”
“Beer it is.” I grabbed an icy pint glass from the freezer, then listed the brands we had on hand. “Blue Moon, Corona, Stella Artois, and Sam Adams. I think that’s it.”
“A Stella would be great.”
I set the beer and glass on the table, then went in search of some snacks in the pantry, returning with a bag of pretzels that I opened and poured into a bowl.
“Ahh.” He said, eyes closed, savoring the first sip. For the first time since I’d met him, he looked relaxed. “You’re not joining me?”
It certainly was tempting. Nothing like a cold beer on a hot day was what Papa used to say.
“I’ll stick with water for now.” I filled a glass from the tap and joined him at the table.
“What?” he said, after a moment of my just looking at him.
“I know you don’t like questions, but that’s all I’ve got.”
“What do you want to know?” He slowly spun the bottle.
“What did Nicholas tell you?”
He shook his head. “That I can’t share.”
“Okay. Then how about, do you know where Brooks and Matthew Kleister went?”
“I think he was arresting him.”
“For what?” I was stunned.
“Involvement in that Chambers guy’s death. You know, the one everyone thought I was involved with,” he said with more than a hint of irony.
“Not everyone thought that,” I said. Not Matthew Kleister either. I felt shell-shocked, having never considered him a suspect, probably because I thought he’d been in Boston at the time of the murder. “He admitted to it?”
“Not sure. But the kid who thought he saw me having an argument with the victim has now positively identified Matthew.”
“The glasses?”
“How did you know?”
“I’d never noticed it before, but today, when I saw the two of you side by side?” I whistled. “There’s an incredible likeness.”
“So I’m told.” He looked bemused.
I imagined it was hard to see your own likeness in a stranger.
“Even Edgar thought Matthew was you when he showed up today with Nicholas.” I then recalled Archie’s reaction to Christopher at the diner and wondered if he also had the two mixed up.
“Did he admit that he was the one arguing with Lee Chambers?”
“He did.”
“Did he deny he was the killer?”
Christopher held up his hands. “I was observing from a distance until Matthew called me over and asked if I’d talk to Nicholas. But he didn’t kick up a fuss. Just asked that he not be handcuffed for Nicholas’s sake.” He tipped the glass back for another swig of beer. “Hopefully now they’ll release me from house arrest.” He attempted a smile. “Not that this isn’t a special place. In fact, I wouldn’t mind renting your carriage house next year.”
“Better get your deposit in soon. It’s a very popular rental.”
“I can see why. But the reason I want to come back is personal.”
My phone buzzed. It was Father Sebastian. I held up a finger to Christopher.
“I’ve got to go take care of something,” I told him after I ended the call. “Make yourself at home.”
* * *
Daniel called as I was en route to Wellfleet. “Where are you?”
“I am on my way to meet Sister Bernadetta. Finally. How about you?”
“At the station,” he said. “Matthew Kleister has been arrested.”
“I heard. I just can’t believe it. Do you think Matthew killed Lee Chambers?”
“It would be a real shock, but who knows at this point? His lawyer is here, so I have no idea if he’s talking or just negotiating right now.”
“I presume Brooks is with him?” I hadn’t yet had a chance to tell him about Robyn losing her keys.
“Yep.”
“Why are you there?”
“Wes Creed.”
“Oh yeah. I was wondering what you two were talking about.”
“I didn’t think this mess could become any more convoluted.” He let out a loud sigh before saying, “Gotta go.”
I would love to know what all had transpired in the barn today, but I’d have to wait. Hopefully not as long as the rest of the world.
32
Renée
New York ~ Two months ago
“You have a visitor, Renée.” Michael was smiling at her from the bedroom doorway.
“Not today.” She moaned and turned her back to him, but soon she felt his weight on the bed beside her.
“But this is someone who made a special trip to see you.”
“Special?” Antonio? She opened her eyes and looked up at her handsome husband. “Is it him?”
“Who do you mean?” A wariness seeped into his tone.
“Tonio?” she whispered, but the moment the name was spoken, she wished she could take it back. That regret was mirrored in her husband’s eyes.
In shame she closed her eyes tightly, and he moved away. Moments later the mattress shifted again, but with a lightness this time.
“My sweet Renata.” The voice sounded so lovely and familiar.
“Mamma?”
“It’s me—Isabella,” the soft voice murmured near her ear.
Isabella? Renée did not open her eyes; against those closed eyelids a memory was playing out, and she didn’t dare disturb it for fear it would end. Little Isabella was there and so was Vito. They were all so young and carefree as they ran through the olive groves, laughing. What were they doing? Oh yes. Hiding from their parents.
“Renée, sweetheart.” It was Michael’s voice again. Had hearing Isabella’s voice been part of her dream?
She opened her eyes to find both Michael and her sister hovering over her. It took a few moments for the haziness of sleep and the hangover from her medication to clear from her head, but finally she understood this was not part of her dream.
“You’ve met my sister?” Renée asked her husband.
His face contorted in confusion.
“Sister Bernadetta.” Isabella smiled beatifically. She must not have revealed herself.
“I must be such a mess.” Renée’s hands flew to her head to straighten the scarf that hid her baldness.
“You are as beautiful as ever,” Michael said, taking hold of her hands and smiling.
Isabella nodded her agreement and said, “What you need is to get up and get dressed.”
Renée noticed Michael’s look of concern but decided that perhaps she really did need to get out of this bed and at least try to act human again.
“It will be fine,” she said to her husband as she tossed the covers aside and allowed her sister to escort her to the master bathroom. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon,” Michael answered as he lingered to supervise.
“Why don’t you fix us a little lunch?” she suggested. His deflated expression prompted her to add, “I need to do this.”
“Of course.” He touched her cheek and then took himself to the kitchen.
Isabella told her, “I hadn’t heard from you, and I was worried.”
“But he doesn’t know that you’re my …”
“Sister?” She shook her head. “He knows me only as Sister Bernadetta. We didn’t get into how we know each other.”
“But, what have you told him?” The panic was returning, her breaths coming short and quick.
“Nothing, Renata.” Her sister patted her hand. Isabella silently helped Renée through the routines of bathing, fixing her wig and dressing. She even added a touch of makeup.
“Now, there’s my Renata.” Isabella stood behind her as they both gazed at the mirror’s reflection.
She had to agr
ee. It made a world of difference to be out of that bed. To look and feel like a woman again. Maybe it was time to give it a go without the antianxiety meds. They were making her too tired to live what little life she might have left. She recalled the conversation between her son and husband and knew it would take some convincing to get Michael to support this choice. Still, she must try.
* * *
Boston ~ Late 1960s
“It’s time for you to move out of this place,” Renata told her sister after Antonio fell asleep between them.
“But I like it here.” Isabella smiled serenely, caressing her nephew’s hair.
“Still, you can’t stay forever. Unless you’re planning on becoming a nun.” Renata made a sour face.
“It’s convenient for taking my courses.” Isabella had just enrolled at a nearby community college. “And I can save money for tuition by staying here.”
“You’ll be a wonderful social worker one day,” Renata told her sister, “but you need a life, friends, boyfriends.”
“I’m content for now.” Isabella changed the subject. “Call me when you and Antonio are settled?”
“Of course. And you’ll come to visit soon?”
Her sister nodded, brushing away a tear.
“What’s this all about?” Renata reached across her son to offer a tissue, knowing it would be hard for her as well, leaving her baby sister behind.
“I’m used to having you and Antonio closer.” Isabella sniffled.
“It’s only a half day away by bus. And besides, you’ll have Vito right here should you need anything.”
* * *
Early the next morning, Isabella brought biscuits and hard-boiled eggs into her room. Antonio gobbled up the simple breakfast without complaint, but Renata’s stomach was churning from nerves, leaving her unable to eat anything.
Her sister handed her a brown paper bag. “Sandwiches for your bus ride. It’s not much, but it will tide you over until you arrive.”
“Thank you.” Renata tucked the bag into her purse.
“I have something for Antonio.” Isabella pulled a small box from a drawer in the plain bureau.
The little boy’s eyes brightened at the thought of a gift.
“Your mamma, Uncle Vito, and I were each given one of these before we left Italy, to protect us as we flew across the ocean to America.” Isabella put the medallion chain around Antonio’s neck. “Now you will have mine to protect you as well.”
“Don’t give up yours. He can have mine,” Renata said.
“I insist. You are both starting a new adventure and need the protection. I’m not going anywhere, and even if I did, I wear my cross. Besides, I have all the sisters here to pray for me.”
“You have one too, Mamma?” Antonio was mesmerized by the necklace.
“I do.” She pulled hers from under her blouse for him to inspect and compare to his own.
Before Renata could protest again, Vito arrived to collect her little boy.
“I want to go with Mamma,” Antonio wailed as he clung to her. “She’s going on a secret adventure.”
“As are you, my sweet boy.” She knelt and brushed away his tears. “You’re going to meet me there. Uncle Vito and Thomas are going to take you for your very own adventure.”
“Thomas too?” He rubbed his red eyes.
“Yes, my little man.” Vito lifted Antonio and raised him high. “Thomas will be there too.”
In minutes, the pendulum had swung from devastation to delight, and Renata was relieved. Otherwise, she would not have been able to leave her son in such a distressed condition. Still, it was hard for her to be parted from her little one, even for these few hours. But she was desperate and trusted no one as much as she did her brother.
It took all of Renata’s emotional strength not to cry or appear worried as she took Antonio into her arms for a goodbye hug. She clung to him, breathing in his signature scent of one hundred percent little boy. Crayons and gum, shampoo that hadn’t gotten all rinsed out last night, the lingering smell of Cheerios and milk on his lips. It was just so intoxicating, and she didn’t want to let go.
“Mamma,” he said, squirming free and all but breaking her heart, “it’s an adventure.”
Which, of course, was what she’d been telling him.
“That’s right.” She smiled brilliantly, all for the sake of her child. “A fabulous adventure.”
Heart-wrenching as it was, she reminded herself that all she had to do was get through this one day. Then she and Antonio could begin a new secret life elsewhere, far from the clutches of the Welles family.
After waving one last time before Vito and Antonio rounded the corner, she finally allowed the tears to flow, making her walk to the bus station difficult. But for her to be at the meet-up location, she could not miss her bus. In her rush and with blurry vision, she stepped into the street right in front of a blaring taxi. She felt herself being lifted back up onto the curb.
“Hey there, now,” said the man who was still holding onto her arm. “Where you off to in such a hurry, little lady?”
She looked into his eyes, trying to determine if she recognized the man. Could he have been sent by Phillip to follow her? Or was he just a kindly man trying to help?
“I’m off to work,” she told him, turning away and wiping at her eyes. How likely was he to believe that with her toting a suitcase along? “I can’t be late.”
“Better late than dead.” This time she didn’t look at the man but rushed across the street, trying to lose herself in the mass of city commuters in the crosswalk. She continued to check over her shoulder as she took a more circuitous route to the bus station, but there was no sign of the man from the corner.
Even when she’d handed over her ticket and was seated on the bus that would deliver her back to Antonio, she couldn’t relax. Her whole body was vibrating as she wiped the sweat from her hands onto her pants. She tried to calm her breathing so as not to draw attention to herself. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the reunion with her son, their new life together. An adventure, as she’d told Antonio. She’d do everything in her power to make it so.
* * *
New York ~ Two months ago
“You must tell Michael everything,” Isabella was urging her.
“I can’t! It’s not possible.” Renée brought her hands up to cover her face. “I’m too ashamed.”
“He loves you. Help him understand.”
“Where’s Tofie?” She needed her boy to help her through this.
“Who?” Isabella had never heard her use the pet name.
“My son,” Renée cried. “Where’s Christopher?”
33
Cassandra
Whale Rock Village ~ Present day
Though I recognized the nun immediately, she was much smaller than I remembered. It would be hard to guess the woman’s age, her conservative attire and hair pulled back severely into a bun possibly adding years to her appearance. But she had clear, intelligent green eyes and the smooth rosy skin with which some older women were blessed. The most stirring quality was the absolute kindness of her expression.
“Sister Bernadetta, this is Cassandra Mitchell.” Father Sebastian made the introduction. “She’s the one who’s been looking for you.”
“Hello,” we said in unison and then smiled.
“I’ll give you some time to speak privately,” Father Sebastian said, then closed the door, leaving the two of us alone in his office.
“I’m curious—why have you been looking for me?” the nun asked, the smooth skin of her forehead crinkling.
“You were in Whale Rock—that’s where I live—on the day of the big storm,” I said.
She nodded.
“I saw you that day. Briefly. But I understood you were looking for someone,” I shook my head. “It seems like months ago now, even though it’s only been a little over a week.”
“Yes, it’s been a difficult time. Storms leave much destruction in their paths.” She sm
iled sadly. “Storms also swallow up many secrets.”
I thought it a strange thing to say but didn’t pursue it. “Who is it you’re looking for?”
“My nephew.” She threw up her hands in distress. “I’d show you his picture, but it was caught by the wind one day and carried out to sea. It was the only photograph I had of him.”
“What’s your nephew’s name?” I asked.
“Christopher. Christopher Savage.”
I honestly couldn’t speak for a moment as I processed this, but my expression must have given something away, for the nun asked eagerly, “Do you know him? You know Christopher?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “He’s staying at my home.”
We both stared at each other in disbelief.
“I’ll take you to him,” I said at the same time she asked, “Will you take me to him?”
We laughed together, and then she started to cry. I draped an arm over her slight shoulders and said, “First, let me make a call.”
I went outside the church to call Christopher while Sister Bernadetta gathered her things.
“Can you just sit tight for a while?” I wanted to make sure he didn’t leave for a long walk with Gypsy.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I’m bringing someone back to The Bluffs to see you. Someone who has been desperately looking for you.”
“Who would be desperately looking for me?” Christopher asked.
“You’re about to find out,” I told him. “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
* * *
“Are you Christopher’s father’s sister or his mother’s?” I asked Sister Bernadetta on the drive.
“His mother’s. Renata.” She waved a hand in agitation. “I mean Renée.”
That was odd. “I’m so sorry to hear that you lost her recently.”
The nun nodded and gazed out the window, brushing at a threatening tear.
“You’ve been pretty hard to find.” I told her about my trips to Orleans to distract her from her sadness.
“We are a tightly knit group, the Sisters of St. Joseph,” she said. “I’ve grown dependent on my sisters, and after a week of being away from them, I felt the need to spend some time with a community who would uplift me and yet allow me some solitude.”
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