Finding Angelo (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 2) (9 page)

Sofia looked at the priest, stunned.
Angelo must have
changed his name. That’s why the policeman acted so strange. He must know him
under a different name. Why didn’t I think of that before?

“And you’re sure this is the same
man?” she asked.

“Pretty sure.” Don Ambrosio
scanned the picture again. “The same expression in his eyes … how shall I call
it? Cautious or distrustful, perhaps?” He continued to look at the photo, then
gave it back to Sofia. “You said he’s a relative of yours?”

“Yes, through marriage. My husband
is his great-nephew and his grandfather, our grandfather, is his older
brother.” Encouraged by the priest’s recognition and kindness, she dared to
tell him more of Angelo’s troubled past back in California and his mysterious
disappearance, the bones they found in their newly acquired property. She
mentioned that the police were looking for him, that he might be a witness, even
a suspect, but that the family didn’t think he was a killer.

Don Ambrosio nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, I knew he was hiding something, that something troubled him. He almost
seemed haunted. He never talked about his past. He told me that he was
originally from the United States, but I knew nothing of his family. He was a
very private person, but friendly and kind. We got along well. We sat together
sometimes in the evenings after work, drinking tea or a beer.”

“How did you meet him?” Sofia
asked.

“He came here one day and asked me
if I knew of any kind of work he could do and if I knew of any flats to rent,”
the priest said. “By chance, my assistant had just left for a different parish,
and I needed someone to help with some construction work on the house.” He
motioned toward the ceiling of the room with his hand. “The house needed
repairs. So he stayed in the place next door where the former assistant had
lived.”

“For how long?” Sofia asked.

“Oh, for about four or five years,
I think. One day, though, he disappeared overnight. And then I knew that
something was definitely wrong.”

Sofia’s heart beat faster.
Finally, some news. “What happened?”

“Well, one night, I woke up and
heard loud voices next door where Danilo … or Angelo lived. I was just about to
get up when things seemed to quiet down again. The next morning, I went to
check to make sure everything was all right. But Danilo was gone, his bags were
gone. There was no note or anything. So I assumed his leaving had something to
do with the fight I overheard.”

“What were they arguing about?”
Sofia asked.

“I couldn’t understand what they
said. I just knew they were having a row. And the other person was a man. That
much I heard.” He took another sip of tea. “I was disappointed. I liked Dan … I
guess I should call him Angelo, since that is his real name. He kept pretty
much to himself, didn’t socialize much, but he was kind and very helpful. I
hoped he would stay. I also thought he had skipped out on the rent he still
owed me. But a few days later, I received a brief note from him with the money
for the rent. He wrote that something unexpected had happened and that he
needed to leave. He apologized for his abrupt departure.”

“And that was all?” Sofia asked.

“Yes, I’ve not heard from him
since. I hope that he sorted out whatever was wrong.”

Sofia sighed. “Another dead end, I
guess. We haven’t heard from him either. The last thing was a short letter
eleven years ago with the postmark of this town. He sent it to his relatives in
New York. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I thought that perhaps someone
knew something about him here.”

“Ah, yes, postmark … let me see. I
think I still have the note he sent me with the envelope. It’s in my desk. I
shall be right back.”

“Oh good, that would be so
helpful.” Sofia felt hopeful again. By now, she was determined to find Angelo.

After a while, the priest came
back carrying a wrinkled envelope. He held it up with a smile. “Sometimes, it’s
an advantage being a pack rat. I tend to keep stuff, the little I have.” He put
his glasses back on and scrutinized the piece of paper. “Ah, yes, I remember.”
He handed the envelope to Sofia. “It was posted in Moretta. That’s a town about
two hours southeast of here.”

“How do I get there?” Sofia asked.

Don Ambrosio left the room and
came back with a map of the region. “It’s easy to find.” He pointed out the
road on the map. “But remember that was several years ago. He may not be there
anymore. Or he may have mailed the envelope from a different town.”

“I know. It’s like finding a
needle in a haystack, but I’m here now, so why not try?” Sofia said as she got
up. “Thank you very much for all the information. This is really helpful.”

“I do hope you find him. But be
careful. We don’t know the kind of trouble Dan … I mean Angelo is in.” The
priest rose as well. “But I can’t imagine that he’s a murderer.”

“We don’t think so either,” Sofia
said. “From the diary of his former wife, we found out that he and his friend
witnessed something, a crime, and that’s why they left. But still, it’s all a
big mystery.”

“One thing I remember about him,” Don
Ambrosio said. “He seemed very interested in religion, God, the contemplative
life. He asked me what it would take to join a monastery.”

Sofia glanced at him surprised. “A
monastery?”

“Yes, he was interested in the Benedictine
order. I gave him a few books to read about it.”

“That’s so strange.” Sofia gazed
out the window, trying to come to grips with the news. “From what I heard,
Angelo doesn’t seem like the religious type.”

“Well, it’s not so strange,” Don
Ambrosio said. “Sometimes people turn to God after a troubled past. Danil—Angelo
was searching for something. I’m sure about it.”

“Could he have done it?” Sofia
asked. “I mean join a monastery?”

The priest shrugged. “It’s quite
an involved process. You can’t just walk into an abbey one day and become a
monk. There are different steps and it can take years until you become a full
member of an order. But it is possible.”

“Wow, I have to digest this,”
Sofia said.

“Then again, it may have been
something he considered and then abandoned. I wouldn’t know. I do hope he found
peace though, whatever he did. I hope he’s all right and that you find him.”
The priest looked at her with a kind smile.

“But before you leave, let me give
you my phone number in case you have more questions or need help.” He went to a
small chest of drawers, opened it, and pulled out a business card with the name
of the church on it. He wrote down his name and phone number and gave the card
to Sofia.

“Thank you very much.” Sofia put
the card in her purse, then asked him for a slip of paper so she could write
down her cell phone number. “In case you hear something else about Angelo,” she
said.

He gave her a piece of paper and
she wrote down the number. “I shall certainly let you know if anything new
comes up. And if
you
hear anything of him, let me know as well,” he
said.

They stepped outside and Don
Ambrosio accompanied her to the garden gate. “And thank you for the tea and the
cookies,” Sofia said as they shook hands.

“You’re very welcome. It was my
pleasure. Where are you staying?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve seen a
couple of hotels on the way here. It’s too late to drive back to Pavone today.
Tomorrow, I want to try the town you told me about,” Sofia said.

“Try Casa Alpina. It’s a simple
but clean place right nearby.” He explained how to get there. “Tell them Don
Ambrosio sent you. I usually send guests there. They know me.”

“Thank you very much for your
help. I really appreciate it.” Sofia was moved by the helpfulness of this kind
man.

“Good luck to you.” The priest
lifted his hand to wave goodbye. At the same time, he stared at something
behind her with puzzlement. Sofia turned to see what he was looking at. She
recognized the man standing across the
piazza
, glaring at them. It was
the unfriendly cop. A chill shot down Sofia’s back. She hurried to her car and
drove away.

Sofia parked her car in a public parking lot near the hotel
the priest had recommended. She was surprised to find a spot. It was spring
vacation and the small resort was buzzing with tourists, mostly Italians as she
gathered from the people’s conversations. She hoped Casa Alpina wasn’t totally
booked. At least, it was a weekday. The house, perched on a small hill above
the street, looked cozy and friendly. It was a two-story wooden chalet with
green shutters and a granite roof.

She opened the door and stepped
into a small entrance hall where a roaring fire in a large fireplace and a
scent of cedar greeted her. An elderly woman stood behind the counter and
glanced at her over a pair of reading glasses. Sofia asked if they had a room
for the night. “Don Ambrosio recommended you,” she added quickly, hoping it
would help.

“English?” the woman asked.

“Well, actually American,” Sofia said,
not sure if the woman was referring to the language or her nationality.

The woman checked her computer,
wrinkling her forehead, then looked up. “I have one room left. You’re lucky,
we’re almost all booked. But I can’t turn down anybody Don Ambrosio sends.”

“Wonderful, thank you,” Sofia
said. The gentle priest must be quite an authority in this town. She filled out
the sign-in sheet while the woman checked her passport, then gave her a key.

The room was on the second floor.
Sofia put down her bag and admired the view for a while. The sun began to set
behind the majestic snow-covered mountains, coloring them a muted red. She
opened the window briefly to air out the room. Outside, it smelled of burning
wood, possibly from wood stoves or fireplaces. It cooled off fast and she
closed the window again.

Sofia pulled out her cell phone
and tried to call Nicholas. There was no reception though, probably due to the
high mountains. She tried Julietta to tell her where she was. Fortunately, she
was able to get through to her.

“How are you? Have you found
zio
Angelo yet?” Julietta asked her.

“Not yet, but I have a few leads,”
Sofia said, smiling at Julietta’s eager tone. She knew her sister would have
loved to take part in her detective work.

“Nicholas called this morning,”
Julietta said. “He was worried because he had not heard from you.”

Sofia rolled her eyes. “I called
him two days ago. He’s such a worrywart. I tried to call him just now but I
can’t get through … Are you still there?” The connection was fading. “Listen,
please call him and let him know I’m okay. I’m starting to lose you. I’ll try
to call him as soon as I can get through.”

There was static, but then she
heard Julietta’s voice again. “Okay, I will let him know. Take care.”

Sofia pressed the disconnect
button. She had wanted to give Julietta the newest information about Angelo and
his change of name, but that would have to wait. She had just put down her
phone when it rang again. Perhaps Nicholas was able to get through although she
couldn’t reach him. She glanced at the number but it was an unknown contact.
She answered and was surprised to hear Don Ambrosio’s voice.

“Sofia, I just had a strange
encounter that I wanted to tell you about. Remember when you left, there was
one of the police officers standing across the street, kind of staring at us?”

“Yes, I saw him. Before I came to
you, I went to the police to ask about Angelo and I talked to him. He was rude
and unfriendly, and I think he was lying when he said he didn’t recognize
Angelo.”

“Well, yes,” Don Ambrosio said.
“After you left, he came over and asked me about your visit. He wanted to know
why you came to see me. I was, of course, surprised, well, rather shocked. I
told him that we had a private conversation and I saw no reason to disclose it.
Then he became unfriendly and raised his voice and that’s when I remembered. I
cannot confirm it one hundred percent, but I am pretty sure he was the man with
whom Danilo, well Angelo, had a row that night, the night he disappeared. I
recognized the voice of his opponent.”

“Oh, my God,” Sofia said. “That’s
… well shocking.”

“Yes,” Don Ambrosio confirmed.
“Again, I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. And I thought you should know.
The way the officer behaved today really gave me a bad feeling about him.”

Sofia exhaled deeply. “Thank you
for sharing this with me. I felt very uncomfortable around him, too. After he
was rude, he all of a sudden said to come back in a couple of days, that he
might have some more information. Of course, now, I’m not going to. I better
get out of town before he shoots me or something.” Sofia chortled, although she
wasn’t in a laughing mood.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.
No telling what happened between him and Angelo. There are corrupt policemen,
that’s nothing new,” Don Ambrosio said.

The following morning, Sofia left the hotel early to drive
to Moretta. It was a cool but sunny day up in the mountains. As she walked to
her car in the parking lot, she glanced at a car parked next to hers. It was a
Honda Civic, the same brand and color as her car in California, which is why
she noticed it. A man sat inside, seemingly waiting for something or someone.

On her way out of town, she
stopped for breakfast at a small coffee shop she had seen when she arrived in
Bardonico. It was across from the gas station where she had filled up her car on
her way into town. Except for a few people, who looked like tourists, the
cafeteria was empty. A tired-looking waitress stood behind the counter, then
came to the table and brought a menu. There wasn’t much of a choice, so Sofia
ordered a cup of coffee, a couple of rolls, and a bottle of mineral water for
the trip.

Later, as she walked to her car,
she stopped, surprised. Parked a few cars away from hers was the blue Honda
she’d seen earlier. At least she thought it was the same one, although blue
Hondas of that model were no rarity. Sofia checked the inside as she walked by,
but the car was empty. Perhaps the driver was in the coffee shop. She tried to
remember if she had seen someone come in after her. She shrugged. Must be a
coincidence or it wasn’t the same car after all. She started her car and eased
her way into the street heading out of town. At a cross street where she turned
right, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Startled, she noticed the blue Honda
again. It was leaving the parking lot, following her.