Taken (11 page)

Dana was giving her the same once-over, recognition flitting through her eyes. “Charlie? Is that you?”

“It’s me.”

Dana gave a deep, throaty laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d see you again, and certainly not here.” There was a hint of cen-sure in her voice that Charlotte couldn’t ignore.

“I know I said I’d never come back, but I guess never is a long time.”

“You’re a little old to want a job, so what are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere more private?”

Dana hesitated and then waved her into the office. It was a small room, barely big enough for a desk, two chairs, and a couple of filing cabinets. Dana sat down behind the desk. Charlotte perched on the edge of a hard wooden chair. “So you run this place now,” she said.

“You always said one day you’d be the boss.”

“I had to do something once gravity took over, and I’ve always been a good businesswoman.”

“That’s true. You look good,” Charlotte said.

“You look like a church lady.”

Charlotte smiled. “That’s nicer than what I thought you’d say.”

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“Why are you here, Charlie? It’s been more than a few years.”

“It seems like yesterday now. I can’t believe you still have our photos up on the wall.”

“Not everyone is ashamed of their past,” Dana replied.

“And those were the good old days, for some of us anyway.”

Charlotte ignored that comment. She hadn’t come here to fight. “Speaking of the past, I need your help.”

“And what makes you think that after fifty years of silence you have a right to ask me for help? You turned your back on me, Charlie. You went off to live in your rich house with your rich husband. You were too good for me.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I found a way out and I had to take it. I couldn’t come back because . . . Well, I couldn’t.”

“Sure, I know. I understand,” Dana said, bitterness in her eyes. “We were your secret past. You were ashamed of us. You forgot that you used to be one of us.”

“I never forgot. I just moved on. At least, that’s what I thought. But now I’m terribly afraid that my secrets are about to be completely exposed.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because they’re your secrets, too.”

Dana’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I have something to hide? I run a strip club. Everyone knows who I am, where I come from. I’m famous around here, and I like it that way.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I’m not talking about our days as dance hall girls, or this club. I’m talking about Johnny.”

Dana drew in a sharp breath. “What about him?”

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“Do you remember the watch he used to wear?”

A light flickered in Dana’s eyes. “Of course I remember,” she said evenly.

“I gave it to my granddaughter, and now it’s missing.

Someone stole it two weeks ago.” Charlotte saw Dana’s eyes narrow and the pulse in her throat begin to jump. “It was the only thing they took,” she added. “It wasn’t a random theft. Someone knows the value of the watch. I need your help to find out who.”

Dana looked down at the desk, then back at Charlotte.

“I can’t help you.”

Charlotte gazed into her old friend’s eyes and saw fear.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“It’s all the same.”

“You heard something. What?” Charlotte leaned forward. “I have to know, Dana. I have to protect my family.”

“So do I,” Dana said. “You need to leave.”

Charlotte gave her a long, hard look. “I’ll go, but think about this: If they know about me, then there’s a very good chance they know about you.”

“I was smarter than you, Charlie.”

Charlotte smiled. “No, you just liked to think you were.”

Kayla walked through the front door of St. Peter and Paul Church in Washington Square and immediately felt a sense of peace wash over her. She loved churches, and this one was particularly magnificent with its forty-foot altar made from Italian marble and North African onyx. It had been carved in Italy by master craftsmen, then carefully shipped to San Francisco in pieces and reassembled in the church. For a few moments Kayla stood still, ab-TA K E N

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sorbing the beauty of the cathedral, the light streaming through the stained-glass windows that were superbly done. Here in this beautiful church everything seemed to be exactly as it should be. She could almost forget that her life was in complete chaos. Almost . . .

The sound of footsteps drew goose bumps down her arms, and the serenity in her soul turned to uneasiness.

She whirled around, ready to confront whoever was behind her. It was a nun dressed in full habit, black gown, white head covering, a cross hanging on a chain around her neck. A pair of thick glasses sat on the end of her nose. As she came closer, Kayla looked up and saw a pair of sharp blue eyes. She sucked in a breath. She had the weird feeling she knew those eyes.

The nun smiled and murmured, “Bless you,” as she moved past, heading down the aisle toward the altar. She was a tall woman, and she walked with a long stride.

Kayla’s body tightened. Her instincts told her something was off. The nun disappeared through a side door in front of the church. There was no one else in the cathedral, but now it was too quiet. The silence was too tense. She turned to leave; she had the urge to get out of the building as quickly as possible. The sudden sound of organ music caught her off guard, made her pause in the middle of the aisle. She looked up at the balcony just in time to see something come hurtling down toward her head.

A moment later she was on the ground, flat on her back, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, stars spinning in front of her eyes.

“Kayla?” Nick’s face came into view as he knelt beside her.

Where had he come from? She tried to ask, but she couldn’t catch her breath. Her chest was too tight.

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“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, his eyes worried.

She opened her mouth but no words came out.

“Take your time,” he said, stroking her forehead with his fingers. “You got the wind knocked out of you.”

A priest appeared behind Nick, an older man with white hair and dark brown eyes. “Are you ill, dear? Shall I call for an ambulance?”

“No. Something . . . something hit me on the head.”

She sat up, putting a hand to the top of her head. She could feel a bump beginning to swell.

The priest picked up a Bible from the floor next to her.

He looked up at the balcony overhead. “This?”

“I guess.”

“I wonder how that Bible just happened to come down on your head,” Nick said. “There’s no one around.”

“I saw a nun earlier. She walked by me. Then the organ began to play. I looked up, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground,” she said.

“A nun? There aren’t any nuns here at the church,” the priest said in surprise.

“But I saw her. She was wearing a habit.”

“Perhaps she was visiting,” he said. “I’ll check the balcony to see if anyone is up there.”

“Thank you.”

Nick helped her to her feet. She felt a bit wobbly and had to hang on to his arm. “Okay?” he asked.

“Getting there. It was just an accident, right? A freak accident.”

“Why would you think it was anything else?” he asked, his expression speculative as he surveyed the church.

She didn’t want to say the words out loud. They
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sounded foolish in her head. “There was just something about that nun. She was so tall, and her eyes seemed familiar.” She stopped abruptly, remembering another odd detail. “Her shoes. She had on running shoes.”

“What are you getting at?”

How could she answer that question? The thought going through her head was ridiculous. “It’s nothing.

Never mind.”

“Just say it — whatever it is. Trust your instincts.”

“My instincts have been wrong before.”

“Maybe not this time.”

“Fine. I think the nun had Evan’s eyes. And she was about the same height. See, I told you it was crazy. Evan isn’t dressing up like a nun, following me around town.”

She waited for Nick to agree with her, but he was silent.

“What? Do you think it’s possible?”

“Evan always liked disguises. I told you about the time he pretended to be a college professor. That was just one instance. Another time he put on a wig and women’s clothes and faked his way into the locker room to take photos of girls getting dressed. He was always doing crazy stuff like that.”

“Okay, you’re not making me feel better. Can we get out of here?”

“Sure.”

When they reached the sidewalk in front of the church, the warm sunshine began to take the chill out of her bones. It was a nice day, a beautiful one, in fact. There was nothing to be afraid of, Kayla told herself firmly.

Someone had been up in the loft playing the organ.

They’d knocked the Bible off by accident. It was probably a child or a teenager. And the nun was just visiting the
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church. There was a rational explanation for everything that had happened.

“Where’s the jewelry store?” she asked, trying to focus on what they’d come here to do.

“Down the street,” Nick replied, his sharp gaze perus-ing the area around them.

She followed his glance and saw nothing out of the ordinary. If her head weren’t aching, she could probably convince herself she’d imagined the entire incident. She put a hand to the swelling bump and winced.

“Maybe we should get you some ice,” Nick suggested.

“No, it’s fine. Nothing serious.”

“Not this time,” Nick said with a somberness that did nothing to improve her mood.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t like it that someone threw that book at you.”

“We don’t know that’s what happened. It had to be an accident. It was on the railing. Someone brushed by it, knocked it off.”

“Just when you happened to be standing right in its path.”

“Still, it was just a Bible,” she argued. “No one tried to shoot me or anything.”

“Not this time,” he repeated.

“Stop saying that. You’re making me nervous. Let’s just go to the jewelry store and see if we can get some more information on the watch.”

“Fine.”

They set off down the street, but they hadn’t gone far when Nick said, “So, tell me about your conversation with your grandmother. Did she identify the man wearing the watch in the photograph?”

“Yes, she said he was her first love. His name was
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Johnny, and apparently he had to go away, but he gave her the watch before he left. They never saw each other again. I guess she didn’t want to tell anyone about him, so she pretended the watch was from my grandfather.”

“And why did she think the watch was stolen?”

“She didn’t say,” Kayla replied, remembering how evasive her grandmother had become. After proclaiming that the watch might have been stolen, she’d completely shut down the conversation. “She asked me to drop it.

She said she didn’t want me to follow up on the watch because she’s afraid that the theft will come back to haunt her or me or whoever. I’m not quite sure. I have to admit I feel a little guilty following up in the face of her very strong objections.”

“If it was stolen, it happened fifty years ago, right?”

Nick asked. “That’s a long time for anyone to hold a grudge. If the watch does belong to someone else, maybe that will clue us in to what Evan’s long-term plan is.”

“I agree. That’s why I’m here. I have to see this through. I have to find a way to make things right for myself, and for you, too.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I am sorry about whatever part I played in robbing you.”

“I don’t hold you responsible.”

“Thanks, but I’m not letting myself off the hook that easily.” She paused, seeing the sign for Ricci Jewelers. “Is this it?” The small jewelry store was located between an Italian café and a card shop very near the Broadway strip, which reminded Kayla of her grandmother’s foray into taking off her clothes, something she preferred not to think about.

Nick pointed toward the
D
-and-
R
logo on the glass window. “Look familiar?”

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“Yes, it’s the same initials as on the watch.” Excitement surged through her. Despite Nick’s conviction that the watch would lead them to Evan, she’d thought it was a complete long shot, but maybe not. Maybe they could find out more about the watch and why Evan might have wanted it.

As they entered the store, an older woman looked up from behind the cash register. Her hair was peppered with gray, her eyes almost black, and she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“We’re looking for the manager,” Nick said. “Or someone who has worked here for a long time.”

She smiled. “That would be me. I’m Delores Ricci.

My grandfather opened this store at the turn of the century. My father, Dominic, ran it for a long time, and now I run it. What can I do for you?”

“We’re trying to find out the history and the value of a pocket watch like this one.” Nick took two pieces of paper out of an envelope. One was the original photo Kayla had given him and the other was an enlargement of the watch. He pushed the enlargement across the counter.

“The watch is silver, and there is some engraving on the front that we can’t decipher, although it appears to be the front of some particular building. On the back, there’s an inscription, just a few words: ‘of Heaven Await.’ ”

Delores’s hand shook as she picked up the enlarged photograph of the watch. She cleared her throat. “What did you say was the inscription?”

“ ‘Of Heaven Await,’ ” Nick repeated. “Do you recognize the phrase? Or does it mean anything to you?”

Delores rubbed her temple and glanced over her shoulder at a door leading into the back room. Then her gaze returned to them. “I think it’s from the Bible.”