Hope House (13 page)

Just the same, this morning he’d spent hours online and on the phone searching for any signs of possible truth to Gloria’s tale. He found
nothing
to support what she’d told him.

Kurt sighed as he
read the documents that outlined Gloria’s past: Bachelors of English from UMass, born and raised in quaint Bradfield, Massachusetts, crowned Miss Bradfield. Married, moved to NYC, divorced, in Butterfield Psychiatric for a while in between. Then she’d moved home to Bradfield and seemed to have gotten her life back on track—till now.

The smattering of facts Kurt had obtained about the Gander girl hurt Gloria’s credibility even more. Alison Gander was born a full nine months
after
Gloria’s miscarriage. Five months after Gloria’s due date. No way the Gander child could be the same kid. Not even close. Even the DNA only listed Gloria as a relative, not the mother.

“Too bad, Gloria. We’ve got nothing,” he said into his lonely one-bedroom apartment. “So who’s shadowing you? Who’s trying to kill you? If you’re just some crazy broad, who wants you dead and why?”

He closed the file he’d made for her and sipped some more cold coffee. What to do, what to do, he wondered. Tommy paid him to show Gloria there was no truth behind her story. Easy enough. But someone
was
after her.  Kurt had seen a man push her in front of that bus and run like the devil into the crowd.

Maybe the adoption agency held some answers. Couldn’t hurt to check. Kurt pulled up the public corporate records for New Age Adoption Agency.

“Holy shit!” He pounded his fist and the half-filled mug fell off the table and bounced onto the battered Berber mat. His eyes glued to the computer screen, Kurt didn’t move to pick up the mess he’d made. “Sibli Corp. Fucking Sibli Corp owns New Age Adoption Agency.”

He leaned away from the laptop and shut his eyes tight then opened them again, hoping the words wouldn’t still be there.

They were. Kurt’s fingers hovered above the keys, terrified to read more. He may as well have been reaching for a hot stove. He clenched his jaw, breathed out, and scrolled down the page.

New Age Adoption Agency incorporated the same week Gloria ha
d her miscarriage. He half-smiled. “You’re not crazy, after all, Gloria. But I wish you were.”

Sibli was a shell of the Puglisi Family in Rhode Island. The Puglisis who framed him. Who set him up, promised him ten grand to blackmail a senator. And he had done it. Guilty as charged. Waltzed right in wearing the pizza delivery uniform and talked to the senator. But that was it.
Talked.
Someone else had murdered the senator and
he
had gone down for it and had been running and hiding ever since.

From that day on he’d torn up all evidence of Tim Perconi’s existence and lived in this identity he’d created. He’d moved all the way to fucking hot Florida, giving up New England forever. All to run from his old life, the law, and to get as far away from the Puglisi family as possible. He felt his blood pressure rise. Fucking bastards!

And now here was the family again. Goddamn it!

This put a whole new spin on Gloria’s situation. If the Puglisis were involved, who knew what really went down six plus years ago? They had enough connections and money to make
anything
happen. Scads of judges, doctors, and politicians in their pockets.

Maybe they did get Gloria’s baby somehow, then lied on the birth certificate. But why? Why go through all that for one kid?

Kurt shut his computer off, stuffed it in the black nylon case and headed out the door to see Gloria. He gazed at the wet brown coffee stain on the white throw rug. It would have to wait. He had bigger fish to fry. It was about damn time to stop running from the Puglisis. He grabbed the door handle and vowed to do whatever he could to crush the family once and for all. Not just for Gloria but for himself.

3.

Maison D’Espoir, Haiti, morning

Martine had not
been able to sleep last night.  She had a bad feeling about Boni. A sick feeling. When it was time to get up and go to the clinic today, she could not make herself get out of bed. She felt her tummy. Jiggly and loose from where her last babies had been. Gone now to some new home like all the others. Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her pillow.

She loved Dr. Tad but did not
know how long she could continue this way. Watching Boni and her baby leave yesterday had killed something in her. Boni had such hope when she fell in love with her boyfriend. Hoped she could have a normal life, have her own baby and keep it.  When the baby came out dark, Boni and Martine had been so happy. It proved they could still have their own babies. God had not punished them forever, had not changed their bodies to birth only the white ones created in them by Dr. Tad.

Boni believed she was going to have a new life with her child. Maybe become a nurse. But then
Mr. Puglisi came in and said NO! She had to leave, he had said. He had not known about the baby of course, but Dr. Tad did. And
he
let them both go.
Made
them both go. Sent them off.

Martine had helped. Had pushed her best friend out the door, pried her fingers off the wooden post so Boris could close the gates.

Martine sobbed harder. “I am a monster now too, no better than the Tonton Macoute or Mr. Puglisi,” she whispered.

She heard a knock and turned her eyes toward the door. “Doctor Tad,” she said, wiping her eyes and sitting up.

His eyes were red-rimmed. He must have been crying too. “I’m so sorry, Martine. So sorry.”

“There was nothing we could do,” she replied. But they should have done something anyway, even if it risked their own safety.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

She moved aside and made a place for him. His hand still had
gauze on it. The splinter had not been too deep, and she had cleaned it well. Martine was surprised he still had such a big bandage. A small patch should by now be enough. She reached to touch it but he pulled his hand away. “It hurts.”

“
Ou byen?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure you are all right?”

“Fine. Just a little tender.”

“I am sorry I did not come to work,” Martine said. “I just—” Tears fell down her face and her voice failed her. She dropped her head down.

“All this time I’ve been telling you I had to stay here to watch over the gir
ls. And that was true but I think now it’s time to leave.”

“You are sending me off?” Martine clenched her fist tight and tried not
to breathe too fast. He could not do this to her.

“Of course not.” He took her fist with his good hand and unclenched her fingers. “I meant that we will go away together. Leave Maison D’Espoir. I feel badly leaving the others behind but I can’t save everyone and I can’t live like this anymore, always being afraid, always doing things that I know are wrong. And what you’ve had to do—no one should be put through that.”

“Where will we go?”

Dr. Tad had told her before that Mr. Puglisi would hurt him if
he tried to leave. They could not go to the U.S. because he would find them. “Belize,” he finally announced.

“Belize?”

“Yes, it’s a small country near Mexico. Tropical like this one but with less corruption. I’ve been saving money for a long time and have quite a bit of it already in an account there. Mick won’t think to look for us in that country I don’t think.”

“All right.”

“You’ll go? With me?” He looked relieved.

“Yes, I will
go.” Her heart beat wildly. Finally she could be free. Martine never thought she would really leave this place or Haiti, and here was her chance. To go away and be with Dr. Tad was her dream.

Martine kissed Dr. Tad’s chee
k and then smiled at him. “I will go with you.” She scurried to her bureau and opened the top drawer. “I can be packed in five minutes.” She did not want to talk anymore because then things might change. He might decide to stay or leave without her.

“We can’t go
just yet.”

The words were like a punch in her stomach or a belt whip on her back.

She turned to face him, two shirts in her hand. Foolish dreams. Too good to be true.  “Oh.”

He stood up and hugged her. “We
will
leave. Just not yet. You don’t have a passport. I thought we’d go to Port Au Prince today and get you an application. We’ll start the process and have them rush it as soon as they can. The very second it’s done, I promise we’ll drive off and never come back.”

She threw her arms around him, dropping the flowered shirts. They spread out and formed a garden on the cool wood floor. “We will really go?”

“Yes. I promise. Come on. The girls can do without us for half a day. We’ll go and sign up for your passport then have something to eat and come back. But you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

“I promise
I will not tell.”

“We’ll just say we’re going for supplies.”

“What will happen to the others when we leave for good?”

“I’ll give them money and then open the gates.”

“What about the babies in their tummies?”

“They can keep them. Come on, we’ll talk on the way.”

“I will meet you out front. I need to do something.”

When Dr. Tad walked out, Martine went into the bathroom. She
checked herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red but they would clear up soon. She splashed some water on her face. This was all happening so fast and she prayed that nothing would keep them from their new life in the place he called Belize.

She shut off the faucet, wiped her face and ran out to his waiting car.
 

4.

Starlite Motel, Miami, morning

Gloria sat at the small desk in her cramped hotel room and read through a manuscript, making notes with a red pen. A junior editor had already read it and had passed it onto her. A hundred pages into it and Gloria agreed it was something they had to purchase, despite its needing work—but then that’s what an editor was for. She smiled. A diamond in the rough. It was the best kind of author to sign because once they were polished you had them for their whole lucrative careers if you treated them right.

A loud knock at the door followed by “room service,” startled her. She looked at her watch. Ten in the morning. Well past breakfast time and too early for lunch. Plus she hadn’t ordered room service. Fear ran up her spine.

She put the manuscript down and called the front desk, keeping her voice as low as possible.

A
fter four rings and a coughing fit, a tired old feminine voice picked up. “
Front desk, can I help you?
”

“Someone is at my door saying they’re room service but I didn’t order anything.”

“
Hold a minute and I’ll check
.” The woman coughed a little more, then composed herself.

“No. Don’t put me on hold, please.” Gloria had the phone cord wrapped tight around her fingers. “Don’t. Someone has been trying to kill me. I thought I had run far enough but please, just call the police, or security.”

“
All right I will. Can I hang up now?”

So much for customer service. Gloria must have caught her on the way out the door for a butt break.

“Sure.”

Gloria set the phone in its cradle.

“Room service, Miss Hanes. Let us in, ma’am,” a man called from behind the door.

Room service my ass. She dialed Kurt’s number. He immediately picked up.

She started right in without even a hello. “There’s a man outside my door saying he’s room service, but he’s not. I called the front desk but they’re no help!”

“It’s okay. I’m just pulling into your parking garage now.”

“Why?” she was relieved but what was he doing here?

“I uncovered something we need to talk about.  I know who’s after you.”

“Who is it? And why?”

“I don’t know why. I’ll tell you who when I see you. Whatever you do, don’t open the door for anyone.”

“How will you get in?”

“I’ll get in. Don’t worry. Hold tight.”

The call ended and Gloria waited, assuming he’d call right back. He didn’t so she sat on the floor on the other side of the bed. She stuck her hand under the dust ruffle and was pleased to find a space. It was a snug fit but she managed to maneuver her body under the bed.  She slid herself all the way under and to the other side, so she could see the door.

She heard one more knock and then another voice. “She’s not answering, just use the key.”
Two muffled voices!

There was a rattle and then the locked turned. Gloria held her breath.

“Ugh!” a man groaned. Then there was a series of thuds, like a boxer smashing a heavy bag with all his might. A body being pummeled. There came a loud bang against the door and she heard muffled whimpering.