The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (4 page)

“Hello, and welcome to Hidden Treasures. Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The man looked around for a while, then approached the counter as Belinda was busy organizing sales receipts from the previous day.

“Actually, I am looking for something specific,” he said, a charming smile quickly spreading over the handsome face. “My mother is passionate about prayer beads, and I thought of finding some for her upcoming birthday.”

Mrs. Allen arched her brow. “Prayer beads? Do you mean rosaries?”

The stranger’s eyes opened a bit wider and he leaned closer across the counter. “Yes, exactly.”

Belinda Allen shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything like that at the moment, I’m sorry. I’ve had some in the store before, but I sold them already.”

“Would you know of any other antique dealers in the area that might possibly carry something like that?”

“There are several antique shops around, but I haven’t visited them in quite a while, so I wouldn’t know for sure.”

The stranger smiled and turned toward the door. He had broad shoulders and hair as black as the wings of a crow, and Belinda estimated his height at maybe six feet one or two. He was casually attired in a pair of corduroy slacks and a white collared shirt, and wore a thick gold chain around his neck. He hesitated before exiting and walked back to the counter. He wrote down a phone number on a small card with a golden pen he pulled out of his shirt pocket.

“Should you by any chance have a rosary coming in, would you please call me?”

Belinda Allen took the card and placed it inside her cash register, a little surprised at the stranger’s insistence. “I certainly will. Meanwhile, would you like to look around to see if you might see something else your mother would like?”

“No, it’s okay. My mother has a very selective taste. Thank you anyway.” With those last polite words, he was gone, the chime on the door announcing his departure.

Belinda took the card out of the register and looked at it. It only bore a first name – Chris - and a phone number, which appeared to be local. When her husband walked in, she placed the card back into the drawer and went through the familiar motions of closing up for a few minutes to enjoy mid-morning coffee, before stepping out together, hand in hand like newlyweds. And it was probably because of her interest in what her husband was telling her that Belinda didn’t notice the same man who had just visited her store hiding behind the corner, when they passed him by. He watched the couple walk away and smiled. He was sure she knew where the rosary was, and he was going to find it, one way or another.

Melody
Bennet
stood in front of Applebee’s and took another quick glance at her watch - two o’clock. Her husband’s delay was beginning to worry her. Mario was seldom late for a date, and was usually the one waiting; he rationalized once that his obsessive punctuality was likely the result of having a father who had no routines – in Mario’s mind, randomness was synonymous of instability.

She tried his cell phone but got no answer, so she called the house again, in the event he forgot something and went back home. No answer there either. Where could he be?

She was just beginning to dial his cell number again when she saw him walking across the parking lot toward her. He raised his hands in apology, and smiled that smile of his that could turn water into steam. After two years of marriage she was still in awe of his good looks. His tar black hair was cut very short and it emphasized the chiseled jaw line and deep-set chocolate brown eyes. Because of his constant training, his body was a masterpiece of muscles that would have made the statue of David green with envy. In her heart of hearts, although she was often told that she was a beautiful woman, Melody still couldn’t believe her good fortune. As far as she was concerned, her shiny brown hair, bright green eyes and petite figure paled in comparison to Mario’s raw beauty.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m late. But wait until I tell you where I was.”

Melody pretended to pout and tapped her right foot on the pavement.

“It’d better be good, Mister. I’m starving.”

Mario zipped his lips with his finger and smiled mischievously.

“No comment yet, but I promise it is worth the wait”.

So far into their relationship, Mario never let her down, so Melody giggled and reveled in the delicious feeling of the upcoming surprise as they walked into the restaurant.

The hostess led them to a booth at the right end of the room, and Melody was pleased to see that not too many people were around. With his new job at the SBI and her around-the-clock work at the farm she had inherited from her grandmother, their chances for a romantic rendezvous were few and far between. Mario waited for the waitress to come and be gone with their orders before he said anything – watching Melody giddy with anticipation was too delicious a treat to spoil it with a quick burst of information.

“So, are you going to tell me already?!” Melody couldn’t contain her curiosity much longer.

“Patience, patience, my child….”

“Mario! Spit it out!”

Mario laughed heartily and took Melody’s hand into his. She loved the feeling of it, and closed her eyes to savor the moment.

“Okay, ready?”

Melody opened her eyes wide, as if ready to swallow him in her glance. “I’ve been ready! What is it?”

“Remember when we talked about going on a little trip for the honeymoon we never had when we got married?”

Melody held her breath, and only nodded for fear of breaking the spell.

“Well…how would you like to go on that trip now?”

“Now…? But…where? When?”

Mario pulled out something from his pocket and unfolded it for Melody to see - brochures from a travel agency. Melody’s pulse quickened.

“It’s almost our anniversary, Melody. Well, technically it isn’t for another couple of months, but I figured it would be okay if we celebrate a little earlier, given the opportunity we have to go somewhere special.”

He displayed the brochures in front of her and she saw that two of them were of
London
,
England
. She looked up at her husband, a bit confused.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mario, I love the idea, but why
London
? I thought we were both more in tune with tropical locations.”

Mario smiled mischievously, revealing that there was more to the story.

“True, true…but there is something else you don’t know.”

There. How did Melody know him so well?

“Paul called this morning. Your cousin Olivia is finally getting married to that guy she met while working at the hotel. Remember her telling us about that?”

How could Melody forget? The hotel in
New Orleans
where Olivia worked was the place where Melody’s life had begun to turn upside down. She had gone down to Louisiana to honor her grandmother’s wish to have her ashes sprinkled on her native land, and Melody had found herself thrust into an assortment of family secrets and oddities that belonged more into an adventure book than in real life. Discovering she had extended family there had been a shock and a blessing.

“That’s wonderful, Mario! When did Paul call?”

“He called early this morning, right after you left. That’s why I rushed out and went by the travel agency before I came here.”

“I’m still stumped. What does
London
have to do with Olivia getting married?”

“Dear beloved, have you forgotten the gentleman your cousin fell in love with is from London? We are going to the wedding. I’ve already called Paul back and told him we will attend.”

Melody was stunned. She hoped Olivia wasn’t planning to move to London; her father, Paul, would be crushed if he lost her again after having been reunited with his only daughter just a few years ago. Olivia was the fruit of an extra-marital affair, and Paul wasn’t even aware of her existence until the young woman set out to find her biological father; by then, she was an adult and he was an old man, and the bond they developed was strong and sincere.

“Why are they getting married there? I thought marriages customarily take place in the hometown of the bride-to-be.”

“Traditionally they do, but I suppose they really wanted to do something special. Paul said that Graham is hoping to make arrangements to rent the Spencer House for the occasion. Graham told Paul that the house was built in the 1700s for Earl John Spencer, an ancestor of Lady Diana Spencer, the Princess of Wales.”

“Goodness! Olivia must be ecstatic!  She missed out on a lot while growing up, and tried so hard to make something of herself. She deserves such a grand wedding.”

The waitress came back with their orders, and they both dug in. They ate in silence until Mario swallowed the last bite and came forth with another interesting possibility. “And you, my dear, will probably be asked to be one of the bridesmaids. Paul said that Olivia will be beside herself when she hears we’ll be there.”

Melody smiled and squeezed Mario’s hand.

“Oh my God, I just can’t believe it...Olivia is getting married, and we are going to
London
! Pinch me, please.”

Mario burst into laughter so sensual it made Melody shiver.

“Do I get to pick the place to pinch?” He said winking at her. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take a rain check on the pinching until tonight. I have to head off to work. Dwayne covered for me this morning, so I have to return the favor and let him spend a little time with his newborn son tonight.”

“See how you are? First you tease, and then you retreat.”

Mario smiled and caressed her cheek as he stood up. He kissed her gently on the lips and took his keys from the table. He had already taken a few steps when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “I’m sure Paul will be happy to hear from you; you might want to call him back.

“I will. I’ll call him as soon as I get home.”

Mario left, and Melody was suddenly in deep thought. She dreamt of Paul just the night before, and in the dream he looked pale and sick. Now he was going to
London
, halfway across the world, to give away his only daughter in marriage. Melody felt a strange sensation of doom and shivered. She took a sip of her water and hoped this wasn’t the beginning of another wild ride.

Chapter Three

Natalie Sanders was still in shock. Months of work were wiped out in less than fifteen minutes, and now she felt totally lost, empty and alone. She wanted to call her parents but knew that they didn’t really approve of her artistic career, so she killed the idea before it could turn into a full thought. She had no real friends, aside from Billy, her cat, who was now lovingly curled beside her chest while she lay on the couch in a nearly-comatose state; he purred loudly as if to let her know he was there, always by her side, and Natalie stroked its ginger fur to convey that she had gotten the message and deeply appreciated it.

Someone knocked on the door, and she hoped that, if ignored, they would go away. When they didn’t, she got up slowly, running a hand through her unwashed hair as she walked. She opened the door and stared at Aunt Catherine standing in the doorway, wearing self-righteousness as her usual favorite outfit. Natalie took one look at the old lady and decided she wasn’t going to argue with her today. She waved her hand in dismissal and walked back to the couch, leaving Catherine standing by the open door, visibly appalled.

“Well, young lady, are you going to let me in, or are you just going to make me stand here like a delivery boy?” Catherine’s voice was ripe with judgment.

Natalie was already upset, and Aunt Catherine’s uppity demeanor was something she really could not stomach today. “Sorry I didn’t summon the town band to announce your arrival, Aunt Catherine, and I’m afraid I misplaced the number for the local newspaper.” Natalie was sure Aunt Catherine was ready to start with her etiquette bullshit, and she also knew the old bat
couldn’t have picked a worse day to piss her off. To her amazement, what spilled from Catherine’s lips froze her in place.

“I came by to see how you are, Dear.”

Natalie arched her eyebrow – had Aunt Catherine driven twenty miles out of her way to check on the welfare of her outcast niece? Not a chance. Something was up and Natalie was going to play along and find out where the rat was hiding. “I’m fine, Aunt Catherine, thank you for asking. It’s very nice of you to come by. May I get you something to drink?”

Aunt Catherine was obviously pleased with Natalie’s manners, and the usually cold light in her eyes warmed up ever so slightly, melting some of the ice she normally exuded when talking to people she considered inferior. “Some tea would be wonderful, Dear, if you have any. Let me get straight to the point, Natalie, there is something I want to ask you.”

Natalie led the way to the small kitchen and removed oil paints, extra canvas and a bowl of cat food from the table, before she went to the stove to boil water for tea. She saw Aunt Catherine shake her head out of the corner of her eye, but said nothing. She was often amused when the old lady became outraged by her lack of manners and organization, but today it didn’t seem so funny -- in fact, it was downright annoying. How dare she come into other people’s houses and pass judgment on them, even silently?