She hurried down the snow-swept street, clutching her coat tight around her throat. The wind swirled the snow on the sidewalk and roared in her ear. A flash in the sky; lightning. As she crossed the street, the wind ripped through her coat, the cold jabbing through her spine like icicles. She shivered and picked up her pace.
Finally, Lucy reached her car. Fumbling for her keys, she dropped them, her hands already numb from the cold. She retrieved them from the snowy pavement, surprised how cold they had gotten in just those few moments. Her shivering hand opened the door as she slid inside the cold car, shutting the door hurriedly to avoid the wind. A blast of cold air came through the vents. She shut off the vents and sat trying to warm herself waiting for the car to heat.
As Lucy drove down the street singing along with the radio, she saw him-or thought she did. Tears came down her face. After 7 months she still thought about him, saw him everywhere. Everything seemed to remind her of him.
She had been happy with Jim. They met at a high school dance; he was with his friends and she with hers. They danced a bit, nothing serious.
After graduation, she ran into him again-literally. Lucy was peering through the store windows as she hurried along the street on her way to St Andrews' Cathedral. She was not paying attention at all, to what was happening on the sidewalk. Usually the streets were near abandoned on a Sunday morning at this hour; the shops did not open until noon. Lucy was passing the threshold of the cigar shop trying to see what was inside and did not see Jim as he exited the shop. He did not see her either. He had turned to shut the door and did not notice Lucy rushing along the street until she walked right into him. They laughed at the mishap. She smiled at the memory. Those were happy times.
Jim was also going to mass that morning. He stopped in to the cigar shop to chat with his uncle beforehand.
He had looked into her eyes so sincerely, it gave her goosebumps. He studied her features as they walked and talked, noticing everything about her. Her long brown hair was always perfect. He gazed into her hazel eyes and took notice of the smile that played on her lips almost constantly. Jim had decided Lucy was too fine a catch to let get away and was determined she would be his wife.
Eventually they made plans to be married. It would be a big wedding. Lucy's father had become ill just before they set the date, so they waited for him to recover before making any plans. Lucy's father had passed after drifting into an unexpected coma in the hospital. This was not the time to plan a wedding; both their hearts were broken at the death of Lucy's father. Lucy's dad would have wanted them to go on with their lives but the grief was too unbearable for both.
About a year passed and they decided to marry. They set the wedding date that happened to fall on her father's birthday. It was fitting, she thought. Dad thought highly of Jim and would have been tickled pink to walk her down the isle on his birthday.
All plans were set and everything was in place for the big day. Even a birthday cake was ordered for dad in honor of his memory. Since she had no uncles left, her cousin Byron was to walk her down the isle.
Just 3 months before the wedding Jim was gunned down inside his uncle's cigar shop, a botched robbery attempt.
The murderers were never caught.
Lucy parked her auto in front of her apartment. Walking up the concrete steps, she tripped over something lying by the door. She Looked down to see what it was that almost caused her to fall on the slick and snow swirled cement. It was a package. Trying now to stop crying (she didn't want Mrs. Lingo to see her tears, it always worried the 74 year old neighbor) she gazed at the return address label, certain she did not order anything that would come in a package. The name she read caused her to gasp and catch her breath. Grasping for the door, she burst in and hurried up the stairs to her home, too late for Mrs. Lingo had been waiting for her to come home as usual and caught her as she reached the stairs to her upper apartment.
"Lucy" She called as Lucy limped down the hallway. "You're early today".
"yes, Mr. Fry let us out early today before the storm got worse. Lucy responded, brushing her wind-swept hair out of her face with her free hand. Her voice was soft and melodic, unlike Mrs. Lingo's raspy voice.
"Thank goodness for that." Mrs. Lingo said. "I was getting worried when I heard the news this afternoon, we're going to get a bad storm you know. Glad you got home before the blizzard hit."
"Thank you, Mrs. Lingo."
"What's that you have in your hand?" Mrs. Lingo asked.
"It's a......package. Haven't opened it yet, I don't know......what's in it. Lucy haltingly replied, still perplexed by it's sender.
"Oh?" Mrs. Lingo questioned. "You brought it from work, then?"
"No, Mrs. Lingo. It was sitting on the porch just outside."
"Is that right?" Mrs. Lingo said." I told the delivery guy over and over not to leave things on the steps like that where anyone could get hold of them. I've been home all day, nobody buzzed your apartment. I'm going to call them first thing tomorrow and tell them for the umpteenth time not to leave things on the porch."
Lucy had got hold of herself now, distracted by Mrs. Lingo's rant about the delivery service.
"Why don't you come down and have some chicken soup?" Mrs. Lingo said. "I made enough to feed the building."
Lucy smiled, knowing it could possibly be true. Mrs. Lingo came from a big family, then had six children of her own who lived. Three others had died before birth. She had named them, had a baptismal service for them and would tell anyone who was having some difficulty she was going to have her three little angels talk to the man upstairs.
Mrs. Lingo hosted all the neighborhood children at her home, making enough food to feed an army. She especially liked taking care of the children whose families were down on their luck as she called it. "A child should always have a full stomach and never miss a meal" she said often.
Even when other neighbors tired of the burden of feeding and even clothing the poorer kids, Mrs. Lingo always insisted on helping. With six children of her own, it was quite a miracle she was able to take care of them, let alone other children. She cheerfully managed, tapping into an inner strength. In her day, especially in the ethnic neighborhood she was in, it was unheard of for a married woman to get a job outside the home. Her husband worked in a factory long hours; there were times she rarely saw him. She felt the bump in the bed late at night, and woke too see wrinkled sheets where he had slept for a few hours before going back to work again. She wanted to work to help him, but these children needed her. She had taken odd jobs, sewing and mending, baking, which were acceptable things to do. Other ladies in the neighborhood would bring her scraps of fabric; she managed to use every little bit to make quilts that she would give away to someone in need, or give them to the church bazaar. Or sometimes if there were big enough pieces she would sew clothes for her children. Other times she was able to sell her quilts and garments for necessities, something very rare for her to do.
When the children were old enough, she taught them how to garden. Her victory garden took up most of the yard. She had many mouths to feed. What could not be used right away was canned for winter. Somehow there was always enough, and plenty of hands to help, as the neighborhood children always pitched in. The children loved her. Sometimes she would find canned goods, homemade bread, pies or other baked goods on her porch. She always said her little angels in heaven had brought them for her. She was always taken care of and never worried about not having enough, though they were so poor and almost lost their home many times over.
Lucy admired Mrs. Lingo. She was like a second mother to her. She often reflected, and had even talked it over with Jim about being a stay at home mom. It would be difficult, but they would manage. She had been looking into ways to make some money at home, selling cosmetics that would help increase their income. Working for a home-based company would not require her to be away from home when she was needed.
The soup smelled so good. Lucy warmed her hands on the bowl as she breathed in the homey aroma.
When they finished eating, the ritual commenced. Lucy would begin to clear the table; Mrs. Lingo would insist she sit down and rest. She worked hard and deserved to be pampered a bit, Mrs. Lingo would tell her.
"Here's a nice hot fresh cup of coffee to go with your desert, homemade strudel.� Mrs. Lingo said.
'Thank you, it looks wonderful. You are the greatest cook in the world.� Lucy said.
Mrs. Lingo smiled and placed the plate in front of Lucy.
"Now, when we're done I would like to see what's in that package. Got me curious you know."
Lucy had almost forgot about it. She had allowed herself to forget, welcoming the diversion from the anxiety attack.
Knowing she could trust Mrs. Lingo, Lucy reached for the package and opened it using a knife Mrs. Lingo had given her.
She tore away the wrapping. Inside the box was a smaller box with a note attached.
Lucy braced herself, anxious but not knowing clearly why. Perhaps this is from a cousin of Jims. Has the same last name, this must be whom it's from.
As she read the note to herself she could not believe what she was reading. Someone playing tricks on her? Why?
'What does it say? Mrs. Lingo inquired.
"It says:
Dear Lucy;
I know this must be a bit of a shock to you. I'm Jim's brother........."
"Jim doesn't have a brother!� Mrs. Lingo exclaimed.
"I...........know...........at least, not living........... Jim had two brothers whom had met with tragic accidents when they were small. Jim was the youngest and Jim's mother could not have any more children after him.
"Read on, child. Mrs. Lingo said.
"I won't go into detail here. Just wanted to send you something, a family heirloom. It was my great-grandfathers, sort of a peace offering. Hope you can forgive me."
Lucy opened the box and found an antique hunting knife with a silver base, the handle ornate with deer and carvings of small game and trees. It was beautiful, and slightly worn.
Mrs. Lingo inspected the piece. "It�s antique alright, I can smell it. May be worth something."
Why did he send it to me? Lucy wondered.
"What are you thinking, child? Mrs. Lingo asked.
"I'm just wondering why he sent it to me. Why not Jim's parents, or uncles, or cousins."
She carefully bundled up the package with the note, excused herself from Mrs. Lingo and went to her apartment upstairs.
Lucy went straight to her phone and tried calling Jim's parents. No one answered. Probably on a trip she thought. She had not talked to them in a few weeks, they seemed to be drifting apart.
When Jim died, they were very close, like her own parents. Jim's mom was still having a very difficult time; Jim's dad was trying to ease her grief the best he knew by entertaining her, taking her on trips, out to eat, etc. He just wanted to see her smile again.
Lucy watched the snow fall, at first it was soft and light, dancing in the wind. Soon it began coming down heavily. The city was covered in the fluffy white snow, sparkling under the street lamps. It was beautiful. A snow emergency had been called, there was no traffic on the streets. Nothing to spoil the glittery canvas of snow.
Part II
Two weeks had passed. Lucy had been calling every day and could not reach Jim's parents.
It was snowing again today ever so lightly. Big flakes that caught in her lashes and stuck to Lucy's hair. The winter wonderland had faded into dirty, oil covered snow. Lucy hoped the snow would fall heavy enough to cover the ugly tracks from the cars and trucks that made it so dirty.
As she made her way to her car, she slipped on an icy patch. She had twisted her ankle, making it difficult to drive home from work. She walked tenderly on her foot as she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. Digging out the hotpad from a mound of items in the closet, she sat in her favorite chair and placed the hotpad on her ankle. There, she drifted off to sleep.
She awoke with a start; someone was banging on her door. It was Mrs. Lingo.
"Child, turn on the news, now!� Mrs. Lingo was shouting through the door.
Lucy sprang up, forgetting about her sore ankle that had swollen while she was napping. She yelped in pain, and limped towards the door to let Mrs. Lingo in.
"Child, what's wrong?" she asked, observing Lucy standing on one foot balancing herself, groggy from sleep.
"I twisted my ankle in the snow. Lucy said.
"Sit down, sit down child" Mrs. Lingo insisted.
Lucy dutifully sat down while Mrs. Lingo nursed Lucy's ankle.
"We're missing the news story, Mrs. Lingo said as she turned on the TV.
...........A man and woman in their mid to late sixties have been found murdered inside a federal park in Washington state. Police are unable to identify the bodies, apparently they have been dead for quite sometime.
Lucy sat, stunned. She turned to Mrs. Lingo.
"You don't think...................................." she began, her voice drifting off.
"Child, let the police figure it out. It may not be."
Just then the phone rang. Lucy jumped, not expecting such a loud noise at that moment.
Picking up the phone she feebly said 'Hello?'
'Lucy? The male voice on the other end of the phone said.
Speaking Lucy replied.
'Lucy, this is Jim's brother Carl, the one who sent you the package. I'm in town and want to speak with you.'
Lucy, scared now, all kinds of thoughts running through her head took a moment to gain her composure.
'Carl, where are you staying' Lucy asked.
"At the Royal Inn." was his reply.
"Can I meet you in the restaurant there� Lucy inquired.
The Royal Inn is a hot spot for executives, she knew there would be a lot of people, and if she was careful would not be able to be followed because of the crowd at dinner hour.
"Ok, I will be sitting at the bar with a black suit. Carl said.
"I'll be there in half an hour. Lucy said, curious now as to who he was and what he wanted with her.
She got up to excuse herself from Mrs. Lingo, forgetting about her ankle. She swooned slightly from the pain.
'Child, are you ok? You're not going out now, not like this with that ankle. Mrs. Lingo said.
"I have to go. Lucy said. "I will be at the Royal Inn, and will call you before I leave.
"Please don't worry" Lucy said as she saw the pensed look on Mrs. Lingo's face. "I'll be fine She smiled, showing her beautiful teeth.
Lucy with Mrs. Lingo's help wrapped her ankle with some bandages left over from the time she strained her wrist playing racquetball. She changed clothes while Mrs. Lingo left, and rushed out the door. She had only 15 minutes to get across town now.
Lucy allowed the valet to park her car, but told him she wanted to retrieve it herself, and to let her know where it would be parked. She thought, if she were being watched, perhaps Lucy could fool Carl into thinking the valet would bring her car. Meanwhile somehow she would get someone to distract him while she quietly slipped away if it was necessary. This was after all her town, and if she were uneasy at all someone would come to her assistance.
She entered the restaurant and went to the bar, trying not to limp. Carl noticed right away she was limping, and asked her if she were ok.
"I had a slip earlier, I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Lucy studied his features. He did seem to resemble Jim in a slight way. He was thinner than Jim, a bit taller, darker hair-in fact his hair was shiny black. With the black suit he resembled an old-time mobster.
"Our table is this way" He said, his voice deep, but not too deep. A girl could fall for him in a heartbeat, he was handsome and suave.
He led her to the table, pulled out her chair and when she was seated, sat across from her at the table for two.
As soon as they were seated the waiter came with a bottle of wine and bread. He poured the wine into perfect wine glasses. Lucy noted the table Carl choose for their meeting. It was intimate, away from everyone, near the wall. Lucy was facing him, her back to the crowd of people. Lucy became slightly uncomfortable when she realized this. She could not see who was coming in the door, nor what was going on around her. Did he do this on purpose, she wondered. If he really were a gangster, perhaps she would be shot in the crossfire or maybe they wanted to harm her. Then she decided she had read way to many murder mystery novels, and was still very stressed about Jim's death. I'm losing my mind. She thought.
"You're wondering why I asked you to come. Jim said.
"Yes, matter of fact I am. Lucy responded.
"Carl, how long have you been estranged from your family? Lucy asked.
"You don't know anything about me? Carl said, surprised.
"No, I don't. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I shouldn't be surprised. Lucy, when my parents first met they were young. Very young. Before they could get married, dad was sent off to Korea. Mom was pregnant but apparently never told him. Not for years. I was given up for adoption. My mom was sent away to a 'charm school' when she began to get on in her pregnancy. " He said. At least, that's what the adoption agency told me.� He smiled a captivating smile.
Lucy sat stunned for a moment, not certain what to make of this at all. She fumbled in her head for words, trying to get over the shock of the news.
"I'm sorry. Lucy said, the only thing she could think to say.
The knife, what about the knife? She thought. How did he get it, if it was their grandfathers and he was adopted? She thought back to the words on the note included with the knife. I'm sorry. What does he have to be sorry for?
I'm sorry I shocked you. Carl said.
Lucy saw the hurt in his eyes as he searched her face for expression. He put his head down slightly, ever so slightly, trying to hide the emotion welling behind his eyes.
Lucy could not imagine being denied by her parents, her family. She had a loving home, parents who doted on her. She felt her heart breaking for Carl, and tears began to well in her own eyes at the pain he must feel so deeply in his heart.
Good motive, her brain callously told her. Good motive for murder. She tried to dismiss the thought, but it was eating at her.
"The heirloom I sent you belonged to my great-great-grandfather, given to his son, then given to his first born-passed on to me by my adoptive father. I wanted you to have it; losing Jim the way you did must have been hard on you. I thought perhaps it would give you some consolation. My parents who adopted me met briefly once with my real parents, with Jim when he was a baby. He wouldn't remember. Carl smiled, with a far away look in his eyes.
Lucy pondered this a moment, she didn't know what to say. This is an awkward situation, she thought.
Carl continued: "They didn't know who we were; they were vacationing as we. Fate perhaps. The first time I ever saw my real mom and dad, and didn't even know them. I don't think they knew who I was at the time, but Jim's mom kept looking at me."
"It was only a few years ago we got in touch, I began to wonder about my real parents. It took many years to find them through the system. At first I was angry they had adopted me, had not tried to find me. Found out the first time I met with them they had been looking for me.
"It wasn't that bad, the folks who took care of me treated me like their son. They were good to me."
"I'm going to be in town for a few weeks. Hoping to catch up to my real folks before I leave. Perhaps, if you're not busy we can visit the museum� Carl said. It was obvious he was trying to lighten the mood.
"That would be nice, there's an exhibit coming tomorrow I've been waiting for. Lucy said.
They finished dinner while making small talk. Carl insisted he wait for the valet to get her car. Lucy, still a bit uncomfortable, lied and said she had come in a cab. Carl called a cab for her which worked out perfectly--she had the cabby drop her at her car which was in the 3 level parking structure behind the hotel, out of the reach of Carl's eyes. He watched her as the cab drove off and Lucy instructed the driver to go up 2 city blocks and go around the hotel, getting to the parking structure the back way. She did not know this man and wanted to be careful not to leave any tracks lest he be able to find her. After all, she was not even certain this was indeed Jim's brother. But what would he want with her and why would he make up such an elaborate tale? She pondered this all the way home and decided she was definitely reading too many mystery books.
Lucy parked her car, looking around her before she got out. She had checked her mirrors to be sure she was not followed. Feeling safe, she got out of her car and into her apartment.
Exhausted, she threw herself down on her bed and went to sleep, her ankle still smarting.
She awoke with a start. He knows where I live! Her brain screamed at her. He had called; he knew her address, her full name-anything he wanted to know was at his fingertips.
What could she do. She sank back down in her bed, restlessly sleeping until morning.
Saturday morning she awoke late.
Lucy made coffee and was reaching for the phone when the knock on her door startled her. She froze a minute, wondering if it was Carl. How silly, Mrs. Lingo is better than a bulldog when it comes to watching the door. The main door to the apartments had a lock and an alarm system that all the tenants had pitched in to purchase.
The knock grew louder, more insistent. A voice called: "child, are you alright? It was Mrs. Lingo.
Lucy, relieved, opened the door.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lingo. I just made coffee, would you like some?"
We don't have time, detective Morris will be here in half an hour. Mrs. Lingo said. "That leaves you with enough time to dress up and come down to my apartment. I thought you'd be up before now, are you feeling ok� Mrs. Lingo inquired, concern in her voice.
"Yes, I'm fine, but detective Morris?"
Lucy couldn't finish her sentence before Mrs. Lingo chimed in-"Child, get dressed and come down. You'll find out everything then."
Mrs. Lingo exited Lucy's apartment, and Lucy began her morning ritual, still careful on her foot. It wasn't hurting as much as yesterday and she wanted to be sure it was not going to give her any more trouble.
Lucy proceeded downstairs, hobbling as fast as her foot would allow. Detective Morris was already at Mrs. Lingo's apartment enjoying coffee and home-made apple strudel, the scent of the baked goods wafted to Lucy's nostrils. Mrs. Lingo had just baked this morning and probably just removed it from the oven as she was coming downstairs.
"Good morning, detective. Lucy said as she sat down.
Detective Morris raised himself from his seat as Lucy sat. "Good morning, Lucy. He said. Detective Morris was in his forties and had graying brown hair and sharp green eyes. He is what would be described as big-boned, a little heavy but not overly so.
"Lucy" Detective Morris began. "Are you aware of any ties to the mob Jim may have had?"
Lucy was stunned!
"No, I am not! Jim was a mobster?" she answered, shocked and surprised.
"We're not certain if he was involved or not, but the uncle was. Detective Morris stated.
"That's why he was killed......... Lucy said.
"We believe so. Detective Morris said.
"Lucy, I would like to take you down to the station for questioning. It's a formality. Detective Morris said.
"Ok, let me get my coat. Lucy went upstairs to get her coat and boots, checked the wrapping on her ankle to make sure it was secure and met Detective Morris downstairs. He was just leaving Mrs. Lingo's apartment when Lucy reached the bottom of the stairs.
Lucy sat in the back of the squad car, perplexed at the outcome of the whole week. She thought about the mysterious package, the phone call and meeting with Carl, the murders in the state park and now Jim's possible involvement in the mafia? Oh, this is just bizarre Lucy thought. I feel like I'm a character in a book.
They arrived at the station. Detective Morris helped Lucy out of the squad car.
As they walked up the concrete steps, Lucy stated how anxious she was to hear what was going on. Detective Morris opened the door for her.
"after you" He said in a low voice.
Morris silently motioned Lucy to sit in a chair alongside a desk. By this time Lucy's head was spinning with anxiety, her stomach in knots.
"Lucy" Detective Morris began. "Forensics has found some interesting things at the site of the shooting. According to the findings, there was some issue of diamond smuggling. Do you have any knowledge of this?"
"No, Detective. I have no knowledge of diamond or any other kind of smuggling. Lucy replied, surprised at the questions and implications being made at her dead fiance' and his family.
"According to our findings, Lucy, we have discovered Geno Caprione had been involved in mafia activities in New York City in the 1940's. He had been indicted for small crimes, served time and left New York after his release Detective Morris stated.
Geno Caprione was Jim's uncle; perhaps he had gone back to mob activities and Jim was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did Jim know what his uncle was doing? Lucy thought.
"Lucy, do you know anything about Geno's activities?" Morris asked her.
"No, I had no idea. Lucy said.
"Jim may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time that morning. Detective Morris said. "It's important, Lucy, that we know every detail. Anything you can tell us about Jim's family. Detective Morris knew full well Lucy could be in danger; any information she could offer him, anything at all could be helpful in obtaining a request for a police escort for her safety.
Lucy remembered Carl, and told Detective Morris everything that happened while the detective scribbled in his notebook.
"Lucy, where is the knife now" Morris asked.
Lucy told him. He would send someone to retrieve it.
"Did the family ever mention anything about Carl? Morris asked her.
"no, nothing. Lucy responded.
"Detective, I don't think Jim was involved in his uncle's business."
"Why is that, Lucy? Detective said. Knowing she could be in denial, he was prepared not to take her seriously.
"Every Sunday morning on his way to the Cathedral for mass, Jim would stop in the cigar shop to speak with his uncle Geno. He told me several times he was trying to save his uncle's soul. He said it in a funny way, making light of it. I think he was serious, detective. Lucy said, looking him straight in the eyes at the last sentence she made.
The detective's eyebrows raised slightly.
"That could be the case, Lucy. He said, hoping this was true.
Detective Morris had known Lucy a long time. He knew she was a good citizen, kept her nose clean, and was honest. A genuine good girl. He didn't want to see her reputation spoiled one iota with any involvement in criminal activity because of her deceased fiance'.
"Thank you Lucy He said. I think we're done with the questions today. If I think of anything else I'll give you a call. If you think of something else you may have forgot to tell me, please call me. Here's my cell. The detective wrote down his number for Lucy. This is a dirty business, he thought. I never should have got in this.
Detective Morris took Lucy back home and again instructed her to be careful. Just before they arrived at her street, Lucy thought of something.
"Detective, did they ever find out who the couple was who was murdered in the state park� She asked, now very concerned.
"What couple? Morris looked perplexed.
Lucy explained about the bodies found in the state park. The detective rarely watched the news. When he was home, he spent time on his woodworking hobby.
Lucy walked into her home as Detective Morris waited in his car for her to get safely inside. Once inside Lucy went into her bedroom and threw herself down on her bed. She was exhausted and confused. How could she have known Jim and his family so closely and not know about smuggling, any ties with the mob?
She tried hard to remember anything that could be helpful. Jim's family gatherings flashed through her mind, friends who came to visit. Everyone of them now a suspect in her mind. Mrs. Lingo knocked at her door, curious about the questions the police asked Lucy. They visited for a bit, and Mrs. Lingo asked Lucy to come down for dinner later on. The evening went by quite normally. Lucy went to bed early, again wondering what was going on in that family she almost married into.
Lucy woke to the phone ringing.
"Hello" she answered.
"lucy, how are you? Carl said.
"Fine, thank you.� She answered, looking around the room trying to figure out what day and time it was.
"Are you going to the Cathedral for mass this morning? Carl asked.
"Yes, I am". Lucy said, now aware it was Sunday. Looking at her clock she was pleased to notice she had plenty of time to have a leisurely cup of coffee before she showered and dressed to go.
"Would you mind my company this morning Lucy? Carl asked. "I can pick you up in my car at quarter to ten. That should leave us plenty of time to get there."
Lucy was not very comfortable with this at all. She would not mind seeing Carl, but did not want him to pick her up.
"Can I meet you in the lobby of St. Andrews, Carl.� She said.
Carl paused before he answered. "Yes, that would be fine. I'll wait for you in the main lobby then."
"I will be there at 5 minutes to ten. Lucy said.
"I'll see you then. Carl answered. "Bye, Lucy."
"Bye, Carl."
Lucy hung up the phone and rolled out of bed. She made her way into the kitchen and started her coffee.
She fetched a cup and saucer from the cupboard and poured her coffee. Lucy sat down at the kitchen table, thinking about the events of the last few days. Somehow she had to get Carl to talk. Should she let him know about Detective Morris and his questions? Should she ask him flat out if he knew of his uncle's involvement in diamond smuggling?
Lucy finished her coffee, placed her cup and saucer in the sink and went into her bedroom to get her clothes.
Part III
Lucy decided to drive to the Cathedral this morning rather than taking her usual Sunday walk. It was cold, a good excuse to drive, and she would have an escape if she felt uncomfortable with Carl. Her ankle was still painful, so driving was the best option to take on this day.
At 7 minutes to 10, she walked through the doors of the church, her heart beating slightly. Carl was again wearing a suit, a charcoal grey color. It looked well on him. Suits look well on all men, Lucy thought.
Carl smiled when he saw her. Lucy tried not to look tense, but she is not a very good actress. Carl noticed the strain in her face, and wondered what she could be thinking. She acted guilty. Was she involved somehow? Carl thought as he put his arm out for her to take hold of.
The mass was unusually long today; it was confirmation Sunday and the bishop gave a long interactive homily. Lucy tried to get lost in the mass and not think about what Carls' motives were, but she just could not concentrate. "Follow your instincts" the bishop was speaking to the confirmation class. "Let your formed conscience be your guide." That was enough for Lucy; she knew now to be weary of Carl.
After mass, Carl asked Lucy to breakfast. There was a nice cafe' down the street, intimate and homey. They type of place where you entered as a stranger and came out a friend.
Carl insisted on driving. Lucy, feeling a bit uneasy suggested they walk the few blocks to the cafe'. Lucy was a bit surprised when he said yes. Carl put his arm out once again, Lucy took it and they walked the block and a half or so to the cafe'. She was glad for Carl�s assistance, for her ankle was hurting even more in the cold and she was very uncomfortable walking. The alternative was being in a car with Carl, and she did not like that option, so she walked and did not allow the pain to show in her steps or her face.
Once seated, they made small talk. Carl seemed a bit on edge. Lucy observed this, and asked him if everything was ok. Carl seemed to hesitate answering her, looked into her face and preceded to tell her what was wrong. For some reason, Carl felt he could trust Lucy. Even though he didn't want to.................
"I haven't heard from my parents in about a month and a half. This is unusual, and I'm worried. "
Lucy's thoughts shifted to the news the other evening. "I'm sorry, Carl. Perhaps they are someplace where they are unable to reach you?"
"That's just it, Lucy. No matter where they are, they get hold of me somehow, even if it means leaving the site they are occupying, and driving 50 miles if need be in order to let me know they are alright. It's just not like them not to call me for so long a time, and I've been calling them. No one answers. We talk at least every other week, if not more often. Something's not right."
Lucy felt uncomfortable, like she was being watched. Detective Morris came in with his wife and another colleague. It was not unusual to see him on Sunday for brunch at the cafe', yet Lucy was surprised.
"Afternoon, Lucy" Morris said as he was walking to his favorite seat.
"Hello, Detective. Nice to see you.� Lucy stated with her usual smile.
Carl was eyeing the exchanged greetings. Lucy introduced him to Morris.
"I hope you are enjoying the hospitality of our little town.� Morris said to Carl.
"I am.� Carl answered. "This is a very friendly town.� He looked at Lucy and smiled. Lucy smiled back, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not knowing quite why she was uncomfortable.
Mrs. Morris chimed in. "Good morning. Nice to meet you, Carl." Mrs. Morris was quite unlike her husband. He was a bit shy, quiet and reserved. She was flamboyant and outgoing. Mrs. Katherine Morris loved to entertain and chat. She was delightful to be with, always positive and upbeat.
"I'm glad we finally got to meet the new bishop." Mrs. Morris said. "He's so young and handsome, too. Very good man.� She bubbled as she talked with her hands moving about, gracefully yet distracting. "You're very handsome as well, Carl." She said as she looked in Carl's direction. Carl smiled and thanked her for the compliment.
"Excuse me for a moment, Lucy." Carl said after the Morris' had excused themselves to have their breakfast.
Mrs. Lingo and a long time friend of hers walked in. "Why hello, Lucy."
"Hello, Mrs. Lingo." Lucy returned the greeting.
"Are you here alone� Then she noticed the other place setting.
"I'm here with Carl."
"O. I would love to meet this mysterious stranger." Mrs. Lingo was a bit uncomfortable, for like Lucy she knew something wasn't right deep within her.
"You have a boyfriend, Lucy? Mrs. Lupe' asked, trying not to let the surprise show in her face at the resemblance to Jim she noticed in Carl. Mrs. Lupe' and Mrs. Lingo had been friends for many years. When their eldest children were teenagers, the Lupe's had moved in down the street from the Lingo home. The Lupe's and the Lingos had made fast friends with each other.
Brief introductions were made, and Mrs. Lingo and Lupe left the couple to find seating elsewhere in the cafe'.
You know some very nice people, Lucy. Carl stated.
Most everyone here in our town is kind and easy going. Lucy said, still feeling awkward at Carl's presence. The waitress came to take their orders, easing Lucy's anxiety a bit as she searched for something to say to Carl. She just didn't buy his story of being Jim's brother; her gut screamed he is lying, Carl is lying. She had to trip him up somehow, make him admit who he really is.
Carl, what year were you born? Lucy thought to ask.
May 11 of 1952. Would you like to see my driver's license, Lucy? Carl asked with a slight smile wavering at the corners of his mouth.
Lucy looked at his drivers license. You resemble Jim and your parents a lot. Lucy said to Carl. Thinking he certainly got the dates correct, Jim's father left for Korea in January of 1952. Wait, that would have given them 5 months to marry. Something isn�t kosher here, she thought, and tried to keep her thoughts off her telltale face.
Thank you, Lucy. I consider that quite a compliment. You must have considered Jim to be very handsome.
Yes, he was very handsome. Lucy smiled at the recollection of Jim's good looks. Not only was he handsome, his heart was handsome, too, for he was a good man.
What attracted you to him, Lucy? If you don't mind me getting personal
He was handsome. Lucy stated. Carl laughed, and she continued: He had a heart of gold, always made me feel special, and he treated me like a lady. Her voice began trailing off as her memories were jarred of Jim and his kindness. She recalled one summer it was raining hard, the kind of rain one cannot see their hand in front of their face. It came suddenly, and caught a great many people by surprise. An elderly lady was making her way from a cab into a shop, or was it the caf�? Jim rushed out to help her find her way and hid her from the pouring rain beneath his umbrella. These type of things caused Lucy to fall hopelessly in love with Jim. His actions were genuine, it was not for show or an act to hide a sinister side, he was a good man, concerned about others.
Lucy? She heard Carl say.
O, I�m sorry, Carl. I must have trailed off into my thoughts.
What were you thinking so hard about? You were really lost there for a few seconds.
Lucy related some stories about Jim while they waited for breakfast to arrive. A very fond memory Lucy loved to talk about involved a puppy in a tree that Jim rescued. Some neighborhood children had brought the puppy with them while they engaged in the activity of tree-climbing, and inadvertently the puppy was left behind on a tree branch as the children continued playing. The children were unable to retrieve the puppy from the tree, and began asking passerby for help. Jim climbed the tree and saved the puppy, and on his way down slipped on a branch that was not sturdy enough for his weight. He fell a short distance and kept the puppy safe in his arms as he tumbled out of the tree. By the time breakfast arrived, Lucy was tearing up. She had difficulty swallowing her food; she missed Jim so much.
I'm sorry, Lucy. I didn't mean to bring you to tears.
It's ok. I quite enjoy talking about Jim. He was a saintly man.
And you are a saintly woman, Lucy. Carl said in an observant tone.
Thank you, Carl. That is very sweet of you to say.
Changing the subject, the symphony is playing this evening. Would you accompany me? Carl asked.
I haven't heard the symphony in a long time. Not since Jim's premature death had she been to the orchestra hall.
Carl retrieved his car and insisted Lucy wait for him in the cafe'. He would drive her back to her car. He was concerned about her ankle. He witnessed her limping from the lady's room after they finished breakfast.
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Lucy did get in the car with Carl and let him drive her back to the Cathedral to get her automobile. They made arrangements to meet at the Orchestra hall later that evening. Lucy hobbled the steps to her apartment, her ankle seemed to be in worse shape. Upon opening the door, she gasped. it had been ransacked. She took a few moments to regain her composure and called the police station. Disorientated at this event, she didn't think to see if anything were missing. She did not touch anything in the apartment, just sank down in her favorite chair and waited for the police to arrive.
Officer Smith and rookie Szyzmolluki responded to the call. Lucy had known Smith since grade school; he was two years older than she and had dated her best friend. Lucy related what she witnessed when she came home.
Anything missing? Officer Smith asked.
I do not know; I didn't look around. I called the station and waited for you to come. Lucy said.
She went into the bedroom and looked through her jewelry, nothing seemed to be gone. She caught sight of a box and remembered the package and the knife. Lucy looked for it, but it was not there. The knife had been taken; it seemed as though nothing else was missing from her apartment.
Lucy told Smith about the knife.
I'll put that in the report. Smith responded, then added: did you have insurance on it?
No, I did not. Lucy said, wondering why he asked such a silly question. After all, she had just received it in the mail and the detective was supposed to have sent someone to get it the day before. I guess those are standard questions, she thought to herself as the police officers left.
Lucy busied herself putting things back. Mrs. Lingo came to her door and exclaimed:
Lucy explained what had transpired since they met at the cafe. Mrs. Lingo wanted to check on Lucy, concerned about her ankle.
"
"
"I have no idea, Mrs. Lingo." The knife, Carl showing up suddenly, all this is so strange. I don't know what to think about it.
"