There Are No Accidents Page 12

  I considered my options. She knew nothing of Gary’s innocence. She had only witnessed his protests of a wrongful conviction. She either believed him… or not? Similarly, she knew nothing of Tom’s predicament and the pending accusations that drove him to flee. What if I were to tell her the truth? What if I told her that I knew her son served thirteen years erroneously and should be exonerated of his crime? What if I were to add that the love of my life is suspected of murdering her son? One who was found guilty, is innocent and one who is innocent is considered guilty! This twist of fate connected us more closely than Goldie could ever imagine, binding us together as friend or enemy. Presenting the truth would offer Goldie a choice. Today, she desired friendship. My option was obvious… silence is golden.

  Not until this moment had I realized the complexity of our meeting. I was disarmed, as though someone had given me a psychological jolt. I tried to suppress my feelings and quickly referred to my imminent trip. Italy was my excuse for a delayed arrangement, promising to contact her in a month or two, once I was settled. I needed time to process this new information. Part of me wanted none of this intrusion… my forthcoming escape was stressful enough. But as a writer, I yearned to learn more about her fascinating life, to know the origin of her European accent, her childhood, her struggle to survive, her loves, her losses and her ascent to a life of prosperity. She had planted a seed of intrigue and it was growing in the dark crevasses of my mind, but it might prove too dangerous to harvest.

  *

  I discovered that my home had been bought by a corporation. Their legal representatives requested a furnished property and offered me more than the market price to include my fixtures and furniture. I sold it complete and capitalized on liquidizing my assets. It was six and a half months since Tom had left and the sale was now complete. Moving was easy, as my clothes, books, personal items and car were temporarily placed in storage. I walked out of the house and into a waiting taxi with three suitcases, my passport and my airline ticket to Rome. Just before I closed the taxi door, I paused and waved to the surveillance team who were watching me, as usual, through their telescopic lenses.

  Chapter 14

  LIBERATION

  Usually after a six-month period of observation, resulting in negative material, the LAPD surveillance team are removed. However, Andy was obsessional in his quest to pin Gary’s murder on Tom, so I had no choice but to leave before them! I realized that they had already determined my airline and flight number through my emails, so I expected to be followed to the airport. The guy tailing me was quite conspicuous, but Andy’s jurisdiction had now expired and I was free.

  My flight to Rome was smooth, but internally my excitement was rising as butterflies raced around my stomach. My eyes panned the arrival area for Tom’s face, but he was not there. Instead, I saw a white sign with my name.

  “I’m Frances Hay,” I said to the young man holding the plaque. The dark, good-looking Italian, dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, smiled, collected my bags and ushered me into a waiting car.

  “Where is Tom?” I asked.

  “Who?” he said in a strong accent.

  “Tom,” I repeated. “He’s supposed to be meeting me?” He shot me a look of confusion, shrugged his shoulders and placed my bags in the large black sedan.

  “I take you to your villa now,” he said. Further communication seemed pointless, so I resigned myself to the fact that my reunion with the man I loved would be further delayed. The car sped around the perimeter of the Colosseum, holding its own in the lively horn concerto that played constantly. I sat back, relaxed and enjoyed the view. After an hour or so, we stopped at a small roadside restaurant for refreshments and I bought gelato! I was in Italy, and as the ice cream melted on my tongue I felt the decadence of this moment. No surveillance, just a comfortable car trip and Tom waiting at the end of my journey.

  *

  The sun was low in the sky and teasing the trees as we approached the villa. I could see it, standing alone on a small mound above the vines. The winding road led to an archway entrance where the car stopped and a man in a black suit and sunglasses stepped forward and spoke to my driver in galloping Italian. I understood not a word. As we pulled away, I turned and looked through the rear window as the man at the gate resumed his watch. I felt uneasy, for why would a rented villa have a guard? Surely it wasn’t for Tom.

  Excitement once again stirred up butterflies and they raced around my insides in anticipation of seeing Tom. But as the tires crunched to a stop on the gravel outside a huge oak door, the only figure visible was that of a middle-aged woman. She stepped forward to greet me, her weathered face softening as she spoke.

  “Welcome Signora, I am Sophia, your housekeeper.”

  I greeted her accordingly and asked if the Signor was at home. She shook her head, ordered my driver to fetch my bags and beckoned me to follow. We climbed a wide staircase which curled around a top landing, overlooking the marble-tiled hallway. We entered the master bedroom, which resembled a page from a luxurious magazine, with elegant drapes and an antique king-sized bed. I looked at it longingly imagining Tom and I— why wasn’t his stuff in this room? I walked into the adjoining bathroom, and that too was bare. Even now, I had no way to communicate with Tom, no blogging, no cell contact, nothing. I was totally reliant on trust.

  “Signora, there is wine for you on the terrace and I prepare dinner for 8 p.m.,” Sophia said and she smiled and closed the door.

  I pulled a flimsy dress out of my bag, washed away the travel grime, repaired my make-up and brushed out my hair. I stood for a moment in front of the long mirror and wondered if Tom would still find me attractive. The stress over these past months had carved unwanted furrows into my face and I was noticeably thinner. “Well this is a new beginning,” I told myself out loud. “And there’s wine on the terrace… why wait!”

  The marble tiles led me along a passageway and into a large living room. From there, I followed the sunlight, through an open door and onto a terrace. The pungent aroma of the evening flowers, saving their best scent until last, was a reminder of how far I had traveled in my adult life. If the best was indeed saved until last, then I was truly in paradise. As promised, Sophia had provided a bottle of chilled sparkling wine. There were two wine flutes made of tinted Venetian glass and so I filled them both and settled into one of the comfortable chairs. The terrace was at the front of the villa in an elevated position above the driveway. I sipped my wine and embraced the view which stretched over the treetops all the way to the sea. My stress drifted away on the breeze, melted into the sky and was diffused by the scent of the flowers. Italy was intoxicating and I was truly living in the moment.

  My peace was broken by the sight of a car making its way along the winding drive. It was white and smaller than the previous one, not at all official. As my heart began to pound, I sat perfectly still and waited. A man got out of the car and walked towards me. He removed his hat and unleashed a mop of dark wavy hair which bowed as he bent forward to take my hand. He kissed it and introduced himself.

  “Leone Renato… at your service,” he said, looking at me through tinted glasses.

  “Leone is it?” I said, keeping a deadpan face.

  “Our mutual friend has asked me to look after you,” he said, smiling through glistening white teeth.

  “Hello Tom,” I said. “Good try darling, but I’d have known you anywhere.”

  “Ah… was it my phony accent that gave me away?” he said, smiling broadly.

  “No, but the American teeth were a close call.” I smiled and moved closer. “It was your kiss,” I whispered. “Your lips are imprinted on my soul.”

  “Ummm, interesting, I only kissed your hand… let’s try this.” He placed his arms around my waist and reeled me in until I felt the tingling of his warm breath no more than a centimeter from my lips. He spoke softly. “I love you,” and I inhaled his words, ingesting the passion that I had missed for so long.

  Our evening was blis
sful as we soaked up each other like dehydrated sponges. We evoked our good memories and talked of Italy and discussed only a few relevant topics.

  “So, Leone Renato, handsome Italian man with abundant hair,” I giggled. “Has Tom disappeared for good?”

  “Yes. Everyone here knows me as Leone. My new identity, began the moment I arrived. By the way, do you like the new me?”

  “I love the new you. But when is Leone moving in?”

  “Ah… I couldn’t bear to sleep in that big bed without you, so I’ve been holding-up in a smaller room at the back of the villa. Now we can begin our life here together… just like a married couple fresh from our honeymoon.”

  “Is that a proposal?”

  “It could be. Does ‘Signora Renato’ sound appealing?”

  “It sounds illegal!”

  “I can fix it,” Tom said laughing. “Do you like the villa?”

  “It’s beautiful. How long are we staying?”

  “This is home,” he said emphatically.

  “But I thought this was temporary… a vacation rental?”

  “Shush!” he said, placing his finger up to my mouth. “I’ll tell you everything… tomorrow. But this night is ours, we’re together again and I’m impatient to make love to you.”

  Chapter 15

  CATCH 22 SITUATION

  I threw open the wooden shutters and the sunlight leapt in to greet me. Jet lag had kicked in and I had slept later than Tom. I vaguely remembered him telling me that he had to meet with someone, but all other information was lost in a sleepy haze. I grabbed a robe and made my way across the top landing. Voices rose from the hallway, lifted by the acoustics and drifted unintelligibly into my ears. The Italian language sang to me, but I understood not a word. I leant over and spied on the perpetrators. There was a large man in a white linen jacket, talking congenially with Tom. After a few minutes, they shook hands and he departed, flanked by a double act in dark suits and sunglasses. These guys were ubiquitous! I made my way down the stairs and joined Tom in the large living room.

  “Ciao bella!” he said, kissing me gently on the cheek.

  “Buon giorno,” I replied, with my only Italian phrase. “I heard you speaking with that immaculately dressed man,” I said. “I’m impressed! I didn’t know your Italian was so good.”

  “I am Leone now, your passionate Italian lover,” he laughed. “Seriously, I have to fit in and converse in Italian. It was a little rusty, but now it’s good. You’ll need to learn too.”

  “I will? How long are we staying here?” Tom grasped my shoulders in a serious manner.

  “This is our home now… we’re safe here… and yes, I know we need to talk, but—” his mood suddenly lightened. “Don’t you like the villa?” he said, throwing his arms up in a salutation to the imposing structure.

  “I love the villa, but ‘home’? I can only stay three months. I don’t have a visa. We should have discussed this—”

  “We will… I promise. I’ll fix it so you can stay.” He spun me around as if to dance, “Let’s get out of here,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost noon, I’ll take you to lunch.”

  Tom drove like a naturalized Italian, navigating his sporty, white convertible along the winding roads and down to the sea. He seemed more relaxed and happier than I’d ever seen him before. He'd had six months to recover from the stress, whereas I had been on constant alert until yesterday, for fear of someone discovering our charade.

  “By the way, the chief of police in Rome had a call from Andy. He wanted him to investigate your address, here in Amalfi. He probably has ideas of extradition.”

  “Oh no! He can’t extradite me… can he?”

  “No silly, of course not! But he’s hoping you’ll lead him to me. Don’t worry, the chief of police agreed to Andy’s request, but he won’t follow through, he’s one of the family. He called us and joked about it,” Tom said. “He found it amusing.”

  “Whose family?” I asked.

  “The guys I work for. The guys who helped me get out of the States.” I froze in my seat.

  “All those young men in black suits and sunglasses… they’re part of the family too? Or do they just look after them,” I asked. Tom shot a worried look in my direction.

  “Let’s stop here,” he said. “We need to talk,” as he pulled off the road I delivered the first shot.

  “So it was the Mafia who got you out of the States?” I said.

  “Yeah, the guys with connections to Lauren. Look, they’ve been great, gave me a fresh start.” I stared at Tom in silence, digesting this nightmare reality. Tom continued, “You know, they only meant to frighten Gary, not to kill him. It was an accident.”

  “Oh Tom! Think about what you’re saying! An accident? Do you really buy that?”

  “Sure I do, they seemed reasonable guys. They even offered me a job.”

  “What? You didn’t tell me.”

  “It was during our meeting back in LA. They told me that they needed a guy to arrange new IDs. I knew the business, I’m Italian… they said I was one of them. But the job was over here, so I declined their offer.”

  “Oh my God! Tom do you realize what they’ve done? They’ve manipulated you to get exactly what they want. Don’t you see.”

  “See what? They did me a favor.”

  “Of course they did and they compromised you… set you up, by murdering Gary. Then they did you another ‘favor’ by helping you escape and giving you the job they needed to fill.” Tom got out of the car and walked around. I followed him.

  “Why did my house sell so fast? Did they arrange that too?”

  “Yeah. They considered it was safe to move you out, so they bought it through one of their associates… I was going to tell you.”

  “How about the villa? How long is the lease?”

  “The villa goes with the job. It belonged to my predecessor.” Tom took a deep breath before offering an explanation. “Creating new identities is a big part of their business, with huge responsibilities. Apparently, he got a little careless.”

  “So he quit?”

  “No, he died in an accident.”

  “Another accident! Tom we know about this stuff. There are no accidents!” Tom sank to the ground and with his head in his hands.

  “I’ve been blind,” he said. “I was desperate and too close to realize what’s been happening.” I sank down beside him and put my arms around this breaking man. “I’m not a bad person. Everything just got out of hand. How could I have gotten into this mess and worst still… I’ve dragged you along.” It was astonishing to me, that half an hour before, this man had been relaxed and happy. Now he was a pitiful sight wallowing in his new-found reality.

  “Well, the villa is beautiful. That is our compensation prize,” I said.

  “We’ll leave, go somewhere else. I’ll find another job.”

  “Tom, look at me and concentrate. We can never leave. We’re in a Catch 22 situation. We’re forever held hostage in paradise.” Tears swept down Tom’s face. I was the strong one now. We had often swapped this role of strength, like a game of ping-pong, back and forth we’d go, rising up to take the lead when the pressure became intense. Now that we were ensconced in the family, the stakes were high and staying alive was a game of visibility, or we too, might disappear.

  I drove us to the nearest bar and ordered two glasses of brandy. “Tom, you need to tell me everything. I need to know who each person is, their relationship to each other, their position in the family and exactly what they do.”

  “Forewarned is forearmed. Isn’t that how the saying goes?” he said.

  “Precisely. One of the perks of being a writer is that I remember detail. So let’s get started.” Tom sketched out a family tree, with the names of each member of the family. How and why he interacted with them and whether it be work related or social.

  “This is Dino, he’s the boss, the godfather of our clan. On Sundays, he surrounds himself with his children and grandchildren.
Throws a big lunch party and we’re invited. He likes me and he’s anxious to meet you too, but he’ll be testing you to see if you can adapt to this life of loyalty.”

  “Then I won’t disappoint him,” I said. “We will survive!”

  *

  I woke early, pulled on a jumpsuit and walked the gardens to seek solitude. I needed to think. I began by isolating the emotions that preceded my life with Tom; fear, obsession, revenge. I found a stick and traced these words in the dry earth to study them. I circled fear and revenge… these were the emotions that freed me from my former life. Then I circled obsession and revenge… these were the emotions in Tom’s life story that led him to me. Next I circled all three, obsession, fear and revenge… these were the joint emotions that prompted our leap for survival. Ultimately, I returned to the first circle, fear and revenge… the irony was obvious. We were now held captive in a world which operates on inciting fear and seeking revenge. Perhaps in life, we are never free of recurring emotions once they have been created. They cycle on a continuous theme of consequential events beyond our control. We ride a turbulent roller coaster, gathering force by attracting like-minded people, purporting similar emotions. We are oblivious to the impact this mutual attraction brings as we spin like whirling dervishes, unable to break this continuous circle until we drop with exhaustion. Our survival depends on consistency or actively breaking this pattern. This is our choice and we must choose wisely. There are no accidents, everything is a consequence of our actions and interactions.