Bound for the Outer Banks (18 page)

The next morning Dante was still sleeping soundly next to Ella. She bathed off using an old washrag and soapy sink water in the tiny washroom. She placed the strap of her shoulder bag over her head and started walking down the cobblestone street to the town center. She spotted the bakery immediately and went in to have some breakfast. In the back of the bakery stood a small table and stool. The table held a laptop in a brand Ella didn’t recognize. On the wall above the screen was a sign that read 1 Euro = 1 Minute. Ella ordered a piece of toasted pumpernickel bread and a serving of figs. She pointed to the laptop and gave the cashier five extra euros. She placed the food next to her since she was much more interested in what her boyfriend had discussed with Besjan instead of consuming breakfast.

Ella thought about how to spell the word that kept coming up in the conversation the night before. She typed in R-U-D-A-G-E. It sounded like the word ménage to her as in ménage a trois. It wasn’t that Ella had ever had a role in one thus knowing the correct spelling, but she had noticed it on a wine label. She wondered how the new brand was faring. She figured if men were the majority of wine purchasers it should be a best seller especially if they thought they could convince two women drinking ménage a trois wine to participate in one. Ella hit enter and received no hits. She thought hard about the spelling then it hit her. She had vowed to see the Taj Mahal before she died and wondered if that was how the last part of the word was spelled. She quickly typed in R-U-D-A-J and tapped the enter button. She then clicked on the translate icon. Her eyes scanned the top result. Ella’s heart sank.

Everything now made sense, the travel, the money, the shady characters, secret meetings. The Rudaj organization was the name for the Albanian mafia in New York City. She continued to read the article on the Rudaj. “The Sicilian Mafia is believed to have franchised out prostitution, gambling, and drug dealing along the Adriatic coast to the Albanians. The clan’s international drug and arms trafficking spans to Turkey and Bulgaria.” Ella thought back to the man she had seen Dante with at the bazaar in Tunisia. He was wearing a Bulgarian soccer shirt.

Ella’s hands were shaking. She hit the X on the screen as quickly as she could, tossed her bread and figs in the stainless steel can, and bolted out the door of the bakery and make shift internet café. After hiking up Shushica mountain to the Kanina castle, Ella sat down, legs outstretched in front of her, and leaned her head back on the cold stone wall. Then she began to cry. BeBe had always told her if she found herself in a dire situation to first have a soul cleansing cry and she would be better able to think rationally. Ella wondered if a person in love could ever think rationally since being in love basically rendered one as crazy as a Bessie Bug according to BeBe. From Albania Dante and Ella headed to Monaco. Ella was silent during most of the trip feigning illness so she wouldn’t have to speak to the stranger next to her for a while. Along the way they spent nights in Foggia and San Marino to rest. Ella didn’t bother asking Dante why they didn’t fly. She assumed driving helped him stay under the radar in his “business.” Also both nights were not booked in hotels but empty homes, one small and modest like the house in Albania and one over the top extravagant like the Patras house. Ella also didn’t bother inquiring as to why they weren’t staying at any hotels anymore. Since the heated exchange between Dante and the Bulgarian soccer shirt man, she’d noticed a change in Dante’s demeanor. He seemed more direct and on edge.

After arriving in Monaco late in the evening, Ella went straight to bed. Dante announced he wanted to hit a casino and play a few rounds of blackjack. Ella gave him a quick kiss and sent him on his way, not knowing if a blackjack table was really where he was heading.

The next day in his usual fashion he told Ella that he needed to meet with some clients. Again she gave him a quick kiss and walked him to the door, straightening his tie like a wife in a 1950’s sitcom.

For the last several days Dante had been questioning Ella about what she wanted in life. He’d also been speaking of all the great attributes of Europe and how he could see himself growing old there. Ella spoke of building her portfolio through creating designs for the Hard Rock organization and eventually getting a job in a New York fashion house. Ella knew that the language barrier would be too great to attempt to start a fashion career in a city like Milan. She had once thought she would follow Dante to the ends of the Earth to be with him, but now the waters had been muddied as to who Dante truly was and this scared Ella.

Dante asked, “Why do you want to go back to New York? Your parents are dead and evil Aunt Madelyn is the only person left there.”

Ella felt the warm tears run down her face. Dante apologized profusely but the damage was done. It occurred to her that Dante assumed since she had no familial ties left in the states, she’d be just fine traipsing around Europe with him while he did God knows what for some possible criminal organization.

In a few days Ella was expected in China to approve her final design for the cocktail waitress uniforms in the Hard Rock casino. The outfit was a one piece unitard with boyshort bottoms in a stretch piano key fabric and the electric guitar inspired tuxedo jacket. From her ten samples she’d shown to Miss Ladson and the other executives it was the one that received the thumbs up. It was also Ella’s favorite and when she secretly showed it to a few of the waitresses she’d gotten to know in the casino, they both squealed with delight.

When Dante returned that afternoon, he asked Ella if she’d like to go to a casino for a few hours. She’d spent the day walking up and down the beach trying to wrap her head around the possibility that the man she loved might be up to no good, in trouble, and taking her with him on the run throughout Europe. In spite of this she figured she may as well see the Riviera while she was here and not wallow in self-pity in the tiny flat they were staying in. She asked Dante where they were headed to next reminding him of her deadline for the China trip. He told her they would be leaving that night for Berlin and she could fly directly to China from there. Dante took down the itinerary for her trip and informed Ella that he would have her tickets and hotel booked in Beijing before noon the next day. This seemed reasonable to Ella since Berlin was a major hub.

As they drove toward Berlin, Dante told Ella they would stop and sleep for the night in the tiny country of Liechtenstein. Again he seemed familiar with the home they were resting in. A large man speaking heavy, guttural German answered the door but left once he let Dante and Ella into the apartment. This apartment looked like it was ripped straight from an Ikea ad with an all-white kitchen with green cabinet doors and sleek silver linear hand pulls. The bedroom was a study in using space wisely with sliding cabinets over the bed and drawers under the bedframe. The chrome light fixture had what seemed to be a hundred shiny arms with a tiny LED light affixed to the end of each one. The arms were all flexible and could aim the light in any direction. It looked like a starburst of light to Ella when she dimmed the switch in the otherwise pitch black windowless room. Dante set the alarm on his phone for six hours and they would be off again.

The next evening they arrived in Berlin. Dante drove Ella down the Kurfurstendam, known by Berliners as the Ku’damm. It was one of the most famous avenues in Berlin. The street was broad and lined with exclusive hotels, shops, and restaurants. Dante pointed out the damaged spire of a large church and said, “It was damaged in World War II and the Germans leave it that way so they never forget.”

Ella liked the thought of the memorial and the German people owning up to mistakes of the past. After pressing Dante for information regarding her flight out of Berlin, he told Ella they needed to talk.

“You’re damn right we need to talk,” she responded.

Dante looked down and said, “Things have happened lately that are beyond my control and I’m sorry I’ve gotten you wrapped up in this but until my lawyers get it straightened out I just need you to lie low for a while. Your job is secure and you can pick up where you left off when we get back.”

“Why are you in trouble?” Ella asked with fire in her eyes, knowing that she probably already knew the answer.

“It’s just a misunderstanding with the SEC. You know how these government regulators are with brokers. I have a lot of international investors and I just have to ensure their privacy to protect their assets and investments.”

Ella wanted to scream, “The SEC my ASS!” but she stopped to consider the man she was dealing with. Dante was not an up and coming financial advisor like she had thought. He was more than likely a member of some mob type organization with links to the Albanian Mafia, the Rudaj. She knew in these organizations everyone was expendable. She certainly didn’t want to test that theory. She instead, took a deep breath, gave Dante a gentle kiss on the lips and said, “I understand.”

The next day when Dante left the flat, Ella looked through the zippered pouch where she kept her passport. It was gone. Ella couldn’t leave Germany to fly to China even if she’d wanted to. She was now essentially a prisoner in her eyes. Dante had taken her passport and therefore her freedom. She would not make her trip to China. She would more than likely be fired from the Hard Rock and not be allowed to put her new design on her resume or in her portfolio. As she let the tears roll off her cheeks, she packed Old Finnegan and headed for the American Embassy in Berlin where she’d learned the true nature of her boyfriend’s “business” and the fact that unless she testified against him, there was a chance she would be prosecuted. Prosecuted for crimes she knew nothing of. She knew she was being used as a pawn for The Bureau but there was nothing she could do. Ella could never afford the type of defense attorney she now found herself in need of so she cooperated with The Bureau and became their star witness.

Chapter 18

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” The lady standing behind the counter in Sassy Sweets tried to pull Ella out of her fog.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” Ella finally responded. “Can I have a piece of the carrot cake?” Ella had run three miles every day that week which might not sound impressive to avid runners but she knew that her max was three miles and unless someone had a gun to her head, she had no desire to ever run more than that. She was rewarding herself with a piece of cake that contained a vegetable. “How bad can it be?” she thought.

“Here you go, Hon.” The lady passed the slice of cake over the glass display case. “That’ll be two fifty five.”

Ella handed the woman three one dollar bills, waved off the change and said, “Thank you….,” She stared at the lady’s nametag, “Mary Lynn.”

“Well, thank you…..”

Ella put her hand in front of her mouth since she had already taken a bite of the scrumptious cake and said, Beyy.”

Mary Lynn gave Ella a puzzled look.

Ella swallowed the moist cake and repeated, “Belle,” with much better enunciation the second time.

“What a beautiful name! I always wanted a beautiful name but I was destined to be Mary something like all my female family members. My grandmother was a Mary and all her descendants are named Mary something. Not Mary Something mind you. I’m Mary Lynn. My Momma is Mary Nell. My sister is Mary Alice. I even have cousins named Mary Sue and Mary Lou.”

Before she took her next bite of cake, Ella said, “Thank you, I get lots of compliments on it. I think Mary’s a nice name too. I mean after all, it was good enough for Jesus, right?”

Mary Lynn laughed from her belly. “I guess I never really thought about it like that!”

Ella thought again how BeBe would have loved her new name. She’d have said, “If you find in life that you need a fake name to protect you from a grizzly Mafioso type death, look on the bright side. Belle Butler is a winner.”

Ella burned the name Mary Lynn into her memory. She’d definitely be seeing her again. This woman could bake like nobody’s business and Ella knew that Sassy Sweets was going to become a place she would try to avoid but she knew already she would fail miserably in that endeavor. “This cake is incredible.” Ella took another bite, savoring the different tastes of the cake and the sour cream icing. When she’d entered Sassy Sweets Ella went directly to the glass case and ordered the cake. Now she stepped back and took in the whole of the cute bakery while she nibbled, wanting to enjoy the delicacy she rarely allowed herself.

Sassy Sweets looked like photos from a magazine. Behind the counter were arched, deeply set, floor to ceiling niches. Each alcove was lined with beautiful moulding. The same moulding provided the face of each shelf. The shelves featured uniform apothecary jars filled with colorful sweets and a vintage scalloped label. Each shelf was up lit from the back. The light gave the jars and some of the opaque candies a beautiful glow. On one side of the bakery were shelves with rows and rows of mismatched cake stands featuring all types of delicate creations, including scores of cupcakes, tortes with kaleidoscopes of fruit garnishes, and elaborate birthday cakes, from Dr. Seuss inspired topsy turvy cakes to what could only be described as sculpted fondant works of art featuring themes from jungle animals to castles and fairies.

Wedding cakes were suspended on floating shelves at various intervals on the opposite tiffany blue wall. They were masterpieces themselves featuring waterfalls of sugared flowers, swirls of raised icing, and even colored icing in damask patterns. There were jeweled cakes and one displaying a shimmering, airbrushed, silver harlequin pattern that Ella instantly fell in love with, however, the focal point of the entire bakery was a life size wedding cake of an elaborately detailed wedding dress.

Ella turned to Mary Lynn and asked, “Is this just a display or have you made this for someone?”

“Well,” answered Mary Lynn, “that is of course for display purposes, but I made that exact cake for Cecile Abadie, some famous French wedding gown designer who got married at the Elizabethan Gardens on the north end of the island. She brought me a design and asked if I could replicate it. Miss Abadie told me she’d pay me twenty five thousand dollars, and I told her I’d make the cake and jump out of the damn thing for twenty five thousand dollars.”

Ella laughed. “It’s truly a work of art. All of your cakes are beautiful. If I ever get married, I’m coming here.”

“By the looks of you Sugar, I’m sure that won’t be long from now. I bet you have to beat ‘em off with a stick,” said Mary Lynn.

Ella frowned, “Not exactly.”

“Well then, you must be living under a rock. Where are you visiting us from anyway? Maybe I need to come have a talk with those young men. They’re all either stupid or as gay as a three dollar bill,” scoffed Mary Lynn.

Ella smiled. She liked this lady. “Actually I live here. I’m new to the area.”

“A new resident. Well how about that,” marveled Mary Lynn. Then Mary Lynn got a very serious look on her face. “Belle Butler, since you’re going to be living here, I want to tell you something before you hear it from some good for nothin’ gossip. I’d rather steal their thunder and go ahead and tell it myself. That way I can make sure you hear the truth.”

Ella wondered what big revelation Mary Lynn, owner of The Outer Banks’ Sassy Sweets, was about to divulge to her. Before she could swallow the final bite of her carrot cake and assure Mary Lynn that her confession was not necessary, Mary Lynn began. “My husband’s a bank robber.”

Ella gave Mary Lynn a blank look. Ella wondered if her husband was presently a bank robber and on the run, possibly robbing banks as they spoke or if she was letting Ella know robbing banks was just a hobby for her husband and she had embraced this behavior.

“I mean my ex-husband is a bank robber. One day he got up, put on a baseball cap, and went in to the North Carolina Bank and Trust and told the teller to give him some money. Some money. Can you believe that? He was too sorry to come up with an exact figure. I guess that would have taken too much brain power. He had one of my son’s toy guns and showed it to the teller. The funny thing was he looked straight into the camera and smiled. When they plastered the still from the footage on the twelve o’clock news that day it was clearly Bob. Instead of looking like a typical robber who might actually try to disguise himself a little, he looked like he was posing for a theatrical headshot.”

“He was trying to get caught?” asked Ella.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Mary Lynn barked. “Turns out instead of opening his shop every day, his sorry butt had been going fishing. He had a small engine repair shop and apparently it’s pretty hard to earn money if you’re not actually repairing anything. I worked in the elementary school lunchroom and he hadn’t paid the mortgage in months and his truck was about to get repossessed, but that boat payment was getting paid religiously.”

Ella couldn’t help it. Before she could stop herself she said, “What an idiot.”

Mary Lynn squawked, “That is precisely what I told the police. The night they arrested him I said, ‘Apparently I am married to an idiot.’ I got my two children and put them in my bed. I told them that I was sorry their father had acted like a big dummy but that we had nothing to be ashamed of because we weren’t bank robbers. I told them we were going to hold up our heads and go on with our lives. As a matter of fact the very next day I was supposed to host a Tupperware party for a friend’s daughter. She called and said she understood if I couldn’t do it. I told her that Bob was the dumbass, not me, and that I honored my commitments. I supplemented my income by selling Tupperware and baking cakes on the side since I thought Bob’s business was just slow. Little did I know it was slow because it’s impossible to work on motors while you’re in your boat fishing, with the shop locked up.”

Ella couldn’t believe this woman hosted a Tupperware party the day after her husband was taken to jail for bank robbery! Plus, what a wonderful role model she was to assure her children like that. Ella also liked the way Mary Lynn put the blame squarely where it belonged.

“You must think I’m crazy for telling you all this but some people just love to wag their tongues. Since you’re new to town, I wanted to tell you myself. I’m now happily married to a man who is not only not an idiot, he’s pretty dog gone smart.” Mary Lynn blushed.

“I do think you’re crazy Mary Lynn, crazy like a fox.” Ella gave the lady a sweet smile. “And if I ever do find Mr. Right, I’m coming straight to Sassy Sweets for my wedding cake.”

“Thank you Belle,” Mary Lynn said with sincere appreciation in her voice. “And by the way, welcome to The Outer Banks.”

Ella waved a little wave at Mary Lynn and headed for Cemetery Road.