Her tears flowed freely now. She would never have let them visit if she’d realized how horrific she looked—not just to avoid her own embarrassment but to spare them their painful memories.
“Are you okay?”
Sophie nodded.
“Good girl. I knew you could handle it.” Nurse Crabtree patted her shoulder. “I’ll be back in as soon as the doctor signs your discharge papers.”
Sophie took another glance in the mirror as the nurse slipped out of the room. She was surprised she was being discharged so soon. Was she really doing well enough to go home?
Unable to inhale deeply without pain, she kept her breaths to short, shallow pants. Still suffering from the effects of the damage from smoke inhalation, the back of her throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper and her voice was nothing more than a painful, hoarse whisper.
She hadn’t been allowed to see her father yet but had been assured by the hospital staff that he was safe and doing well. Dominic Gimmelli had been lucky—his injuries consisted of a few first-and second-degree burns, multiple bruises, smoke inhalation and exhaustion.
But he was alive.
God was good. He’d not only returned her father to her but had protected them both and gotten them out of that inferno alive. She bowed her head and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving.
Sophie put the mirror down and shut her eyes. She was grateful to be alive—truly she was—but her face…
She fought the waves of self-pity tormenting her and, again, tried to turn a positive spin on the situation. She was alive. Her father was alive. The worst was behind her—right?
The rise and fall in the volume of the hospital’s paging system combined with a sudden whoosh of air told her someone had just entered the room. She didn’t want to see anybody right now. She might never want to see anybody ever again. Resigning herself to the fact that nobody cared what she wanted, she turned her head and opened her eyes.
“Dad!”
Sophie’s eyes drank in every inch of him, noting the bandages on his hands and arms, the swelling and bruising on his face, even the bald spot on the left side of his scalp where he was missing a thick patch of hair. But, all in all, he looked fine. He looked better than fine. He was alive and standing in her hospital room instead of residing in the grave she had more than once imagined him in over the past month.
Dominic Gimmelli, accompanied by two men in suits, approached her bed.
“Hello, princess.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“Some princess,” she whispered hoarsely as she moved out of his hold and lay back on the bed. “How can you stand looking at me?”
He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers, and locked his eyes with hers. “That’s all I want to do, honey. Look at you. Be with you. Having to leave you behind was one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever had to make.” He clasped her hand. “But it’s over now, pumpkin. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Over?” Sophie’s eyes darted from one of the men beside her father to the other, her unasked question hanging in the air.
“Sophie, these men are federal marshals. Agent Lance Dickerson,” he said, indicating the man on his left. “And Agent Tom Broward.” Her father turned toward the men. “Can I have a few minutes alone with my daughter?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Gimmelli. We have strict orders not to leave you out of our sight. For your protection, you understand.”
Dominic sighed and nodded.
Agent Broward dragged two straight-back chairs in from the hall and placed them in the far corner of the room. He withdrew a handheld gaming device from his suit pocket, which he handed to his partner and withdrew a small radio with earpieces and a paperback book from the other. “We’ll be leaving the hospital just as soon as the medical arrangements are completed. In the meantime, just pretend we’re not here.”
Dominic Gimmelli nodded at the federal agents and then pulled a chair of his own close to Sophie’s bed.
“Leaving? Dad, what are they talking about?”
“Shh, it’s okay, Sophie. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Sophie gritted her teeth. First Cain and now her father. If she never heard those lame words again, it would be too soon.
Her father looked older than she remembered. Fatigued. Weary. Defeated. Could four weeks in hiding do this to a person—or were the past twenty-two years on the run finally taking their toll?
“I messed up, Sophie.” His face contorted as he tried to hold back tears and he dropped his head. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Pain seized her heart. “Dad. Don’t.” She lifted his chin so she could look him in the eyes. “We’re alive…and we’re together…and all the rest…” She waved a hand in the air. “All the rest will work itself out.”
Her father sat up straight. His eyes glittered with telltale moisture but he had regained control of his emotions.
“You are so much like your mother. I look at you and I see her…in your eyes…the way you tilt your head…. I hear her in your laughter…. She’s always there, inside you, shining through you. Thank God you got very little from my gene pool.”
Sophie remained quiet, giving her father the time he needed to gather his thoughts, to tell his story in his own way. When she saw him continue to struggle, she prompted him.
“Talk to me, Dad. I’m a big girl. You don’t have to protect me anymore. Just talk to me.” And then she held her breath and waited.
Before he could speak, a commotion at the door caught their attention. The door cracked open and Sheriff Dalton stuck his head inside. Speaking to the federal agents, who’d looked up when the door opened, he said, “There’s someone out here who’s being pretty insistent about coming in.”
The marshals glanced at one another.
“I’m not trying to tell you guys your business but I’m just thinkin’ it would be easier on all of us to let him in. He’s not going away quietly, I can promise you that, and I really don’t want to be forced to arrest him.”
“Sophie?” The door edged open a bit wider as Cain tried unsuccessfully to shoulder his way past Sheriff Dalton, who did not seem to appreciate Cain trying to squeeze through the doorway without permission and shoved back.
“Cain?” Sophie strained her neck trying to see past her father to the scrimmage scene in the doorway as the two men struggled against each other.
The marshals nodded. With a frown on his face, the sheriff moved to the side and allowed Cain to enter the room.
The aroma of homemade pot roast preceded him as he entered and placed a Styrofoam container on the nearby hospital tray table. Cain gestured toward the package. “It’s Tuesday. I thought you might be hungry.”
Sophie wanted to laugh. Her lips strained at the effort and the sound was more a chortle than a laugh but, somehow, it was comforting to know that even in the midst of total chaos some things stayed the same—like pot roast day at Holly’s diner.
Cain’s eyes swept the room. He nodded in the direction of the federal marshals and then turned and offered a hand to her father.
“Mr. Gimmelli,” he clasped the older man’s hand in his. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”
“You’re the young man that pulled us out of the fire.” Dominic Gimmelli took careful assessment of Cain as he returned his handshake.
“Sheriff Dalton and I did, yes, sir.”
“I haven’t had the chance to thank you.”
Their eyes locked and Sophie watched in fascination as they sized each other up. Almost like two dogs sniffing each other, determining territory and deciding to find a peaceful way to share the same turf. She shook her head.
Men are nothing more than tall boys.
Cain shot a glance at Sophie. “Am I interrupting?”
“Depends.” Sophie’s father stood up and looked Cain squarely in the face. “I have to ask, son, what makes any of this your business?”
“Dad!” Sophie blurted, “There’s no need to be rude. I hired Cain to find you when you disappeared.”
Dominic digested the information. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for my daughter…and, obviously, for me.” He continued to stare at Cain. “But as you can see, I am no longer missing so I am assuming your business with my daughter is over. What is going on in this room is no longer your concern. You’re free to leave—with our gratitude, of course.”
Cain straightened his shoulders and actually looked like he was digging in his heels. “Sophie is my business, sir. I believe I’ll stay awhile.”
Sophie sighed audibly. She tried to squeeze a degree of authority into her hoarse, whispery voice. “If the two of you don’t start acting like men instead of children, I’m going to throw both of you out on your ears.”
The men turned their attention to Sophie.
“I mean it. Haven’t we all been through enough?”
Her father had the decency to look chagrined and sat back down in his chair.
“Okay, Dad, time’s up. You have a whole lot of explaining to do.”
NINETEEN
D
ominic Gimmelli cut a glance at Cain and then back to Sophie.
“It’s okay,” Sophie assured him. “Cain’s the one who helped me find out most of the information anyway.”
Her father mumbled under his breath and squirmed beneath their scrutiny as Sheriff Dalton and both federal marshals joined the circle at Sophie’s bed. If Dominic had hoped to have a private, intimate conversation with his daughter it wasn’t going to happen. Sighing heavily, he clasped Sophie’s hands and locked his gaze with hers.
“I was a guest teacher at the local college the summer I met your mother. I didn’t realize, at first, that she was seventeen. I automatically assumed if she was taking a college course she was older. I didn’t realize anyone can enroll in a summer art class.” He shrugged, a sheepish grin evident on his face.
“Elizabeth owned the sun—and it radiated from inside her. She had a zest for life, an exuberance and curiosity that was contagious. She was quick-witted, intelligent…challenging.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I had never met anyone like her.” He gently touched the side of Sophie’s face. “And no matter what else you come to believe about me, Sophia, know this…I loved your mother. She owned my heart…and always will.”
Sophie’s eyes glistened with tears. She placed her fingers on top of the hand he held against her cheek and, for that single moment in time, it was just the two of them, bonding, remembering, sharing an intimacy the others could only witness, not feel.
“Get to the part about your crime-boss daddy,” Sheriff Dalton said, shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest. “If you think I’m gonna stand here and listen to this romantic fairy tale you’re painting, you’re wrong.”
The sheriff glared at Sophie’s father. “As far as I can tell the facts should speak for themselves, don’t ya think, Gimmelli? And the fact is you’re prince to the throne of the Maryland-based crime family. Isn’t that right?”
He puffed out his chest and planted his hands on his hips. “Want to hear another fact? How about the fact that you came into our community and took up with a young, innocent teenager from one of our town’s most prominent families. That young girl didn’t know the first thing about corruption, loan sharks and executions. But you did, didn’t you? And you took that little girl away from her home, ruined her life and caused her murder. How’s that for facts, Gimmelli? Doesn’t sound so fairy-tale romantic now, does it?”
Sophie gasped at the harshness of the sheriff’s words.
The color drained from her father’s face as he stared at the sheriff in silence. When he turned his attention back to Sophie, the pain she saw in his eyes broke her heart.
“Don’t you talk to my father like that.” Despite the pain, Sophie yelled at the sheriff. “Get out! You don’t need to be here and I want you to leave. Now!”
Her father patted her shoulder and tried to calm her. “Sophia, stop. I can understand the sheriff’s point of view. The facts are the facts. I am Dominic Gimmelli, the only son of Vincent Gimmelli. And he ran one of the largest and strongest crime families in Maryland.” Her father shrugged. “I wish I could deny it. I wish I could claim to be the son of an accountant or a teacher or even a farmer, maybe. But we’re born into our families, Sophia. We don’t choose them…and we don’t choose the baggage they come with.” He smiled at her. “As you are finding out for yourself.
“Most of my childhood,” he continued, “I believed my father was a well-respected and powerful businessman. When I grew old enough to understand the nature of my father’s empire, I confronted him, disowned him…told him to his face just how much I hated him.” A deep sadness entered his eyes. “But I didn’t hate him. I loved him. He was my papa, after all.”
Sophie understood all too well her father’s mixed emotions.
“My father sent me to live abroad. He kept me as far removed from his business ties as possible. When I returned to the United States, I took the job teaching at the college in Promise. I met your mother, fell in love, fully intended to spend the rest of my days raising a family right here in Promise.”
A shadow darkened his expression. “But the sins of my father followed me here, brought rumors and gossip, brought federal marshals seeking my cooperation in destroying the man who’d given me life.”
Dominic dragged his hands over his face, his anguish painfully evident. No one in the room moved or made a sound.
“Your mother made me promise to do the right thing. She convinced me that innocent people were being hurt and I had the power to help them. So I did—not right away, but I did.”
Dominic sat back in his chair, his tone of voice resigned, almost robotic, as he recapped the rest of the story.
“I had names, dates, copies of records, taped phone conversations, everything the law would need to destroy my father’s empire. I contacted the U.S. Marshals and entered the witness protection program.” Tears streamed down Dominic’s face. “It was the biggest mistake I ever made.”
“Dad…” Sophie reached out to embrace him but he waved her away.
“I trusted them to protect us. I don’t know what I was thinking. I knew my father…his ruthlessness…his power…his rage. I knew his contacts and that he’d go to any lengths for revenge. And he did….