UNABLE TO REMAIN in her prison of a room any longer, Fran sat in the cafe nursing her second cup of horrible American coffee. She had forced herself to eat some scrambled eggs and toast, which she had to admit made her feel better.
Her sketch pad rested on the table. A new portrait of her daughter stared at her with accusing eyes.
When her cell phone clattered on the table, Fran grabbed it. “Dale?”
“I’ve got her, Fran. She’s alive.”
Fran squeezed her eyes shut. A siren wailed in the background of the call. “You are sure?”
“She’s lying on a gurney next to me. We’re in an ambulance on our way to Jackson Memorial Hospital.”
A hospital? “She is sick?”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
Fran listened as Dale took a deep breath. “Gillis has arranged for an agent to drive you to Jackson. You need to get to Bella as soon as you can.”
“Let me hear her voice.”
“I’m sorry. She’s too weak, barely conscious.”
“Mio Dio.”
“Get to Jackson, Fran.”
“Ms. Scarpetta?”
Fran looked up and discovered a man standing beside her table.
“Yes.”
“Come with me, ma’am. I’ll take you to your daughter.”
ALERTED BY THE EMTs while en route, a trauma team met Bella’s ambulance.
Wanting to stay out of the way, Dale watched from inside the vehicle as personnel unloaded her gurney, barked numbers and described Bella’s condition to the physicians. The team talked about low levels of carbon dioxide, respiratory failure, the possible need for intubation.
When they’d disappeared inside the emergency room, he jumped from the rear of the ambulance and followed them into the hospital.
Bella was in trouble. Bad trouble. He’d seen that bluish pallor previously on the job. It meant the body was starving for oxygen.
Unwanted, a favorite phrase of his friend Sean O’Malley entered his brain. She was circling the drain.
How long had she been alone in that room struggling to breathe?
He’d found his daughter. He’d even managed to exchange a few words with her. God, when she’d looked at him with those green eyes and said, “Papa?” in a beautiful Italian accent, he’d wanted to cry.
Had she known who he was? He wanted to believe she understood he was her father. He wanted her to know that she’d succeeded in finding him. She deserved that at least after all that she’d been through.
She was beautiful. Of course she was. She looked like her mother. But so weak. She’d been unable to even lift her arms to grab his neck.
Would he ever get to know her? Would he ever have a real conversation with her?
Had he found her too late?
Inside the ER, he found no trace of Bella or her team.
He approached the desk and told a woman in a pink uniform, “I’m Dale Baldwin, the father of the girl who just arrived by ambulance.”
“I’m the father.” How weird was that? Will that be the first and last time I get to say that?
The woman nodded, unimpressed.
“Can I see her?”
“Someone will be with you as soon as possible,” the woman told him. Was she a nurse? What did it matter who she was? She showed him a room where he could wait.
“Her mother will arrive any minute,” Dale said. “Please tell her where I am.”
“Of course.”
Dale entered the waiting room and stared blankly at the wall.
If only he’d gotten to Bella sooner. Just a few hours might have made a difference. He went through the steps he’d followed during the search. But what could he have done any differently? Nothing.
If Fran hadn’t demanded to go home, he wouldn’t have spotted Zarco in the airport.
If only. If only. He could play that game in his head all day. None of it mattered now.
Nothing mattered but his daughter’s health.
The EMT on the ambulance theorized she caught a virus, the common cold, but without her medication, poor nutrition and the added stress of captivity, her immune system had collapsed.
What kind of an animal left a sick little girl alone to die?
“Dale.”
At the sound of Fran’s voice, he hurried across the room and gathered her into his arms. They clung to each other for several long minutes.
Fran pulled away. “Where is she?”
“They’re working on her,” Dale said.
“You are sure it is Bella? There is no mistake this time?”
“I’m certain.”
“How can you be sure?”
Because of those eyes.
Knowing Fran remained unconvinced, Dale removed his phone and showed photos he’d taken of Bella in the ambulance.
“You tell me,” he said.
Fran released an anguished sob. “Yes. Mio Dio, she is so thin. I have to see her.”
“I know, honey. But we have to wait.”
“When did you get here?”
Dale checked the time, surprised at how long he’d been lost in his thoughts.
“Almost an hour ago.”
“Tell me everything,” Fran begged.
“Let’s sit down.”
Dale led Fran to a seat and explained about the children they’d found, Bella’s friend Ana, how the jefe took Bella away when she got sick.
“Ana said Bella stood up to the boss man, demanded he improve their living conditions.”
Fran nodded. “That sounds like our daughter.”
Dale patted his pocket and withdrew the drawing of the beach Bella had made for Ana.
“Bella made this drawing for her friend. I forgot to return it to her.”
Fran smoothed the folds in the paper and nodded. “This is definitely Bella’s work.”
“You were right,” Dale said, smiling at the artwork. “She’s good.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin.”
Dale and Fran jumped to their feet when a doctor entered the waiting room.
“I’m Dr. Suarez, your daughter’s physician.”
Fran reached for Dale’s hand and squeezed hard.
“How is she?” he asked.
“She’s breathing on her own and her oxygen levels have returned to normal. She responded well to the steroids.”
“Any permanent damage?” Dale asked.
“I’m waiting for the result of one more test to say for sure,” Dr. Suarez said. “She’s young, and I think she’s going to be fine, but I’d like to keep her overnight for observation.”
“Can we see her?” Fran asked.
“I’ll take you to her.”
THE GIRL SITTING UP in her hospital bed barely resembled the waif Dale had found languishing on rags a few hours ago. Her skin had pinked up and she’d combed her hair.
“Mamma,” Bella screeched, her lungs sounding fine. She raised her arms toward her mom, something else she hadn’t been able to do two hours ago. “Mamma.”
Fran flew across the room and hugged her daughter. The two conversed in rapid Italian. Fran pulled back and placed both hands on her daughter’s cheeks, said a lot of words that included “amore,” and hugged her again.
Bella’s gaze focused on him over her mother’s shoulder. She blinked and asked something in Italian.
Fran released Bella, stood and smiled at Dale.
“Yes,” Fran said, in answer to her daughter’s question. “Bella, this is your father. Dale, meet your daughter, Isabella.”
Dale approached the bed, drinking in the sight of his daughter, who stared at him as if she’d never seen a man before. What the hell did you say to a daughter for the first time?
“Hi,” Dale said.
“It was you.” Bella collapsed back on her pillow, but her gaze never left his face. “I thought it was a dream.”
Fran frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re the man who rescued me,” Bella said. “I knew you were my father. I just knew it.” Out of air, she sucked in a breath.
“Take it easy,” Fran cautioned. “Breathe slow and deep.”
Bella nodded, glanced from one to the other and asked, “How did you find me?”
“That’s a long story,” Dale said with a glance at Fran, who couldn’t stop staring at their daughter.
“How do you feel?” Dale asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Bella said. “Just really, really tired.” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Mamma.”
Fran sat on the edge of the bed. “I know.”
“I was so stupid. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Fran picked up her daughter’s hand. “We can talk about it later. Right now you need to rest.”
“What about the other kids?” Bella asked. “We need to get them out of that horrible place.”
“Your friends have been taken into protective custody,” Dale told her. “They’ll get checked out by a doctor.”
Obviously exhausted by all the talking, Bella took a deep breath. “What will happen to them?”
“I’m not sure,” Dale said. “The state will likely try to find their parents, send them home.”
“Most of them don’t have a home,” Bella said.
“They will be taken care of,” Dale said. “Don’t worry.”
“Did they hurt you?” Fran asked her daughter in a quiet voice.
Bella made a face. “You mean did anyone rape me?”
Fran flinched as if her daughter had struck her. “Yes, I guess that’s what I mean.”
“No, Mamma. They said they were saving me for some man in Brazil.” Bella’s voice shook with emotion. “But they hit me when I refused to work. I tried to get the other kids to go on strike.”
When tears formed in Bella’s eyes, Dale stepped forward and placed a hand on Fran’s shoulder. Maybe this was too much for Bella. She should talk to a social worker or a counselor, a professional who knew the right questions and how to ask them.
Fran met his gaze and nodded.
“And they took my photo,” Bella said. “I think it’s on the internet.”
“That’s enough conversation for now,” Fran said. “You just rest.”
“Okay,” Bella said. “Good idea. But please don’t leave, okay?”
“Of course not,” Fran agreed.
Bella sat up again, looking directly at Dale. “Neither of you. I need to know all about my father.”
“And I need to know all about my daughter.”
Bella fell back, her gaze focusing on Fran’s shoulder where Dale’s hand still rested. “Are you guys, you know, friends?”
Dale squeezed Fran’s shoulder. Good question.
Fran placed a hand on top of Dale’s. “Yes, we’re friends,” she said.
“Friends with benefits?” Bella asked in a sleepy but hopeful tone.
Fran made an outraged sound.
Stunned, Dale stared at his daughter. Who was this child?
But she’d closed her eyes. Before either he or Fran could reply, Bella had fallen asleep.
SITTING BY HER hospital bed, Fran could not stop looking at her daughter. In her sleep, Bella appeared peaceful, happy, healthy. But how could she be after all she had been through in the last weeks?
How could there not be permanent injuries to her personality, if not her body?
Bella had slept intermittently all day, occasionally waking to have a brief conversation with Dale or her or both, and then lapsing back into slumber. The doctors assured them this behavior was normal, that all of her test results were improving. She was eating like a normal pre-teen, which pleased Dr. Suarez.
Fran’s phone vibrated. Paolo returning her call. She jumped up and hurried away from Bella’s bed so as not to wake her.
“Bella is alive,” Fran said into the phone.
“Thank God.”
She explained all that had occurred since their last communication before the trip to Tampa.
“She’s really okay?” Paolo asked.
“So far.”
“Listen, I’ve been in touch with the committee in Milan to explain about Bella’s abduction,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. Someone needed to let them know what was going on.”
“Thank you. I received a text declaring me in breach of contract. They demanded proof of progress or I must return the advance.”
“Yes, I know. I asked for an extension, but they want to hear from you. They’re worried, and I don’t blame them.”
“I will contact them. I promise.”
“Good. I’m happy for you, Francesca. I hope you and Bella’s father can work things out.”
Fran made a noncommittal sound.
“Ciao. Promise me you’ll contact Milan.”
She disconnected. But what could she tell her patrons? She had made no progress other than initial measurements. As usual, she had taken too long to find the right stone. Previously, once she found the exact slab she needed, the carving went fast. But the day her perfect marble had been delivered, Bella had gone missing.
What had once been the most important—miraculous—thing in her life now seemed inconsequential. Was it because she’d realized her Searching Man was Dale? Had she subconsciously wanted him to be searching for her after all these years? Had she been searching for him?
Because of their daughter, they’d found each other. But now what?
Fran returned to Bella’s bedside. How soon would her daughter be well enough to fly home? Her spirits lifted at the thought of returning to work. Yes, of course she would complete her project. She had fought hard for her dreams. She wanted Dale, but would never feel completely whole without her art.
Could she have both? Did she dare to want that much?
“Mamma?”
Bella’s voice roused Fran from her musings.
“Hey,” Fran said. “How do you feel?”
“Okay,” Bella said, searching the room. “Where is Papa?”
“He had to go talk to his boss.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“He was supposed to be at work today.”
“What work does Papa do?”
“He is polizia.”
Bella’s eyes widened. “Polizia?”
“Yes, a detective. And a good one. He found you when no one else could.”
Bella nodded and remained quiet for a time. Fran waited. She and Bella needed to talk about Dale.
“That’s strange,” Bella said, not meeting Fran’s gaze.
“Why is it strange?”
“Because I came to this country because I wanted to find him.” Bella raised her startling green eyes—Dale’s eyes—to Fran. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Mamma? Why did you let me believe Paolo was my father?”
Fran leaned forward. Time for truth.
“Because it was too painful.”
“You broke up with my real papa? Were you mad at each other?”
“No,” Fran said. “Nothing like that. I loved your father very much.” She took a deep breath. “And I believe he loved me.”
Bella sat forward. “What happened?”
“Your father never knew about you.”
“You met my real papa while in Miami studying. Is that right?”
“Yes. I did not know I was pregnant until I returned home.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
Fran looked away, knowing how lame her explanation would sound. Dale hadn’t believed her. Why should his daughter? Now, after all this time, even though she had lived through the horror of being held captive in her own home, that reality did not seem plausible.
“Because I could not contact him,” Fran said.
Bella squinted her eyes, looking doubtful. “Uh, I think they already had phones the year I was born.”
Fran sighed. For so many years she had hoped to spare her daughter the knowledge of how judgmental and biased her grandparents had been, and she could still lie. She could tell Bella that she hadn’t loved Dale enough to fight for him, but that was not the truth. She had fought for their love. She had fought hard, but she had lost that battle.
And I am so tired of lies and half-truths, of a past that haunts me. The time has come to speak my truth.
Let Bella make her own judgments about what had happened. After all she had been through to find her father, she was entitled to that.
“My parents, your grandparents, were beyond disgusted with my behavior. They took my phone and my computer away so I could not contact your father. They locked me in my room and placed a guard by the door.”
“For how long?”
“Until I agreed to marry Paolo.”
Bella blinked. “Because you were pregnant? What was the big deal?”
Fran tried to hide a smile. “They feared the disgrace would harm Nonno’s career. But most importantly, I think you surely know that your nonna does not like Americans. Only Nonno could convince her to let me go to school in Miami.”
Eyes wide, her daughter collapsed against her pillows. She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent.
Finally Bella said, “She can be so mean when she talks about America.”
Fran took her daughter’s hand, found her flesh chilly, and covered it with both of hers.
“I am sorry,” Fran said. “I know you love your nonna.”
“So the reason she hates Americans is because my father is an American?”
“No. She hated your father because he is an American. She never wanted me to go to America to study.”
“But that’s wrong,” Bella said. “You cannot hate people because of where they were born. Especially before you even meet them.”
Fran squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I am pleased you feel that way.” I made sure of that at least.
“They must have hated me when I was born since I am half American.” Bella sighed. “I never realized.”
“No, tesoro.” Fran touched her daughter’s cheek. “I promise your grandparents fell in love with you the moment they saw you. As did Paolo.”
“So he knows he’s not my father?”
“Of course. And he knows you are safe. I spoke to him a few hours ago. He sends his love.”
“I love Paolo.”
“I know you do.”
“It’s funny, though.” Bella bit her bottom lip. “I always felt as if he was my uncle rather than my father. So why did you marry Paolo if you loved Dale?”
Fran smiled at her daughter. Bella made everything sound so simple, and maybe it was. “To get out of my locked room.”
“So he rescued you?”
Fran grinned at the image of Paolo as Prince Charming riding in on a white steed to scoop her away from cruel parents. “In a way, yes. And you.”
“My grandparents thought he was acceptable to marry because he is Italian?”
Fran nodded. “And a political ally of Nonno.”
“I guess they did not realize he likes men.”
Fran raised a hand to her mouth. “You know Paolo is gay?”
“Not at first, but yeah. Duh. That’s why I knew something was not right with our family.”
“I see.”
“Did they ever figure it out?”
“Eventually,” Fran said. “But times have changed.”
“Yeah, even in Italy. So lame.” Bella shook her head. “I can’t say anything to Nonno since he is dead, but I will tell Nonna how wrong she is when I talk to her.”
Good luck with that. “Some people will never change their minds no matter how many facts are shown to them,” Fran said. “I fear your grandmother is one of them.”
“Was it hard for you to see my father again?”
“Yes,” Fran admitted.
“Was he surprised to find out about me?”
“Very.”
“Was he happy?”
“After he got over the shock, I think so.”
Bella closed her eyes. “Thank you for finding me. I am sorry I ran away.”
“I know you are.”
“I was so afraid.”
“Shh,” Fran murmured. “It is all over now. We can go home.”
Bella’s eyes flew open. “But I do not want to go home.”
DALE PUSHED OPEN the door to Bella’s hospital room and hesitated, peering into the darkened space. His daughter appeared to be asleep. The chair beside her bed was empty. He searched the room for Fran, but didn’t see her. The door to the bathroom was open, so not in there.
Where was she? She’d barely left Bella’s side.
Dale took a deep breath. Damn, he was more nervous about a solo conversation with a twelve-year-old than the reaming he’d received from his commanding officer. But what did one say to a twelve-year-old who’d been through hell?
He needed Fran for a buffer.
Maybe he shouldn’t go in. He didn’t want to wake Bella. And she might hate him because of what she’d been through. He wouldn’t blame her if she did, although he couldn’t fathom how anything could have been his fault.
Still, he knew from experience with his younger sisters that preteen girls think in strange ways.
What had Fran told Bella about what happened thirteen years ago? Had Fran sugarcoated the truth? Damn, they’d only been a few years older than Bella when they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other, the first sexual experience for both of them, which had been awkward but amazing.
Had Bella had her first sexual experience at the hands of her captors? She claimed not to have been raped, but maybe she’d been holding back.
A light over the bed flashed on, illuminating Bella, eyes wide open and staring at him.
“Aren’t you going to come in?”
Her soft, gently accented voice galvanized him into action.
“Yes,” Dale said, and stepped into the room. “How do you feel?”
“Okay,” she said. “Bored.”
Dale grinned. That sounded like a normal girl her age. “Haven’t you had enough adventure?”
“I want to get out of this place and see America,” she said. “So far all I’ve seen is rooms full of sewing machines.”
Stung by her comment, Dale nodded. “Not much of an adventure I guess.”
“Not much.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
When Bella shrugged and looked away, Dale understood. She’s not ready to talk about the trauma yet. The wounds are too fresh, too painful, or she’s repressing the hurt. She needs someone trained in getting her to open up. Recovery will take time.
“Where is your mom?”
“I don’t know. She probably went to the cafeteria to get something to eat when I fell asleep.”
“Good,” Dale said. Now what?
“Sit down,” Bella urged. “I want to know all about what happened with your boss.”
Dale took the seat beside the bed. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Yes, I do. Mamma told me your boss is mad at you because you were helping her find me.”
“I see,” Dale said. “What else did your mother tell you?”
“Everything,” Bella proclaimed with confidence. “How you two fell in love and she got pregnant with me and my grandparents wouldn’t let her tell you about me and made her marry Paolo.” She took a deep breath.
Dale’s grin grew wider. Bella had summed up over a decade’s worth of pain and longing and angst in one long sentence. And she made it sound so simple. Hell, maybe it was.
“I’m really mad at my nonna,” Bella said.
“You are?”
“Of course. For locking Mamma away and hating Americans for no good reason.”
“Is your mother mad at you?”
Bella made a face. “You mean for running away to find you?”
“Yeah, and for trusting a strange man.”
“I think she is, yes, but she hasn’t said what my punishment will be yet. I think she’s still too happy to see me.”
“Probably so,” Dale agreed. “Do you know how lucky you are that we found you?”
She nodded, a shadow entering her eyes. “I know.”
Dale cursed himself. Why was he doing this to her, reminding her of the danger?
“And I’m sorry,” she said. “I really and truly am. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.” Her face brightened. “But I found you. Are you in a lot of trouble because of me?”
“Nothing that I can’t handle.”
Her smile reappeared. “Mamma told me you are a police officer.”
“Yes, I am,” Dale said, pleased by his daughter’s respectful tone. Not everyone thought law enforcement was such an awesome job.
“A detective,” she said dreamily, as if that title somehow conferred rock star status.
Dale sighed. Maybe not a detective. His promotion was on hold pending Lieutenant Marshall’s review of the FBI report. He’d spilled his guts to LT about Bella and Fran and the search, but his commanding officer had been less than sympathetic, insisting Dale had used poor judgment, that a detective should have been up front about what was transpiring in his life no matter how unsettling. LT had slammed him with a week suspension without pay.
If he didn’t have his detective shield, he could forget assignment to the terrorism task force. But things had changed for him. He’d realized what was important in life, which had shifted his career goals. He now had a fire in his gut to stop human trafficking. More light needed to be shed on that abomination.
But no reason to tell Bella about his endangered promotion. She had enough to deal with. And the suspension gave him a week to spend with his daughter.
“Did you miss Mamma when she flew back to Rome?”
Startled by the sudden change in subject, Dale hesitated.
“Or did you forget all about her?” Bella asked.
“Forget your mother? No way,” Dale said. “Actually, you could say I ran away, too.”
“You did?”
“I was so miserable believing that I’d lost your mother, I joined the army and got shipped to Iraq.”
Her eyes widened. “You went to war because you missed Mamma so much?”
“Yeah, that’s what happened.”
“So you still loved her?”
Dale leaned forward and took one of his daughter’s hands. “I have never stopped loving your mother.”
“Even after all this time?”
“Even after all this time.”
“That is so cool,” Bella said.
Dale shook his head. Cool? More like dumb. Yeah, Fran had said she loved him, but was that real love, the kind of love that lasts? Or nostalgia about the past? He didn’t want her to take his daughter, a daughter he found more enchanting every minute he spent with her, and fly back to Italy.
But why shouldn’t she? He hadn’t told her how he felt.
He’d told their daughter, but she wasn’t the person who needed to know.
“You should get hitched,” Bella proclaimed.
Dale rubbed his chin. “Hitched?”
“Isn’t that what you call it in America? I heard that in a movie about cowboys.”
“Your mother told me you like America.”
“I love America.”
“Even after what happened to you?”
“Mr. Zarco isn’t from this country,” Bella logically pointed out.
“Do you still want to see America?” Dale asked.
“Of course. Especially the Everglades. I want to draw an alligator.”
“How would you like it if you and your mom came to live with me for a while?”
“Awesome idea. I would love that.” Bella leaned toward him and said, “You know, I think Mamma still loves you, too.”
Feeling like a conspirator, Dale also leaned toward her. “You do? Why?”
“There you are.” Fran’s cheery, breezy voice startled Dale. He sat back. So did Bella.
How much had Fran heard?
“Guess what, Mamma?” Bella said in a voice full of excitement.
“What?” Fran asked, with a quick, wary glance at Dale.
“Papa has invited us to live with him so I can finally see America.”