A Life Separate: Together

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Cindy entered the living room, wearing a dark blue, short-sleeved, open-collared silk blouse, ivory-colored cotton slacks and white open-toed sandals. Her hair was long, with beautiful waves and a sheen to it. It folded slightly on her shoulders. Of course. she was wearing the Borsalino hat I bought for her in Monte Carlo. It was if Lauren Bacall was standing there. She looked up from under the brim of the hat and said, “Shall we go?” It had the same effect on me as that first day of class three years ago, when she asked, “May I sit here,” and I fell in love. To think she came to Italy to look for me.

“Let’s go. I hope you enjoy the drive. It is absolutely spectacular.” With that we left.

We made our way by car down the mountain and through the other small villages to the Autostrada. We got onto the Autostrada heading to Gran San Bernardo. It was a beautiful day with the deepest blue sky. When we began going through the Aosta Valley, Cindy turned to me and said, “You weren’t exaggerating when you said the drive would be spectacular. Everywhere I look, I see a castle up high on the walls of the valley. It reminds me of driving Highway 395 from Carson City, Nevada to Lone Pine, California, except you have the Sierra Nevada Range on both sides of the highway with Castles.”

“Just a little different from our last road trip, being chased by the FBI across parts of Kansas and West Texas,” I replied.

“I should say so!” Cindy said.

After about an hour and a half, we arrived at Gran San Bernardo Pass and the Saint Bernards. It was such a beautiful day. The sky was so blue, with the whitest cumulus clouds above the Alps. We saw some of the St. Bernards in the distance. Watching these magnificent animals moving through the green grass with their handlers, with the Alps as a backdrop, was truly stunning. We toured the Monastery and Cindy had her picture taken helping groom one of the dogs. She finished grooming the dog, and walked towards me, with a look of contentment and satisfaction. She took me by my arm, looked up to me and said, “That was unbelievable. What an experience.”

“You ready for lunch?” I asked.

“I guess so. I think I could stay here forever,” she replied.

We started toward the parking lot. Parked on one end, was a gray Fiat 500 that caught my attention. “Is something wrong, Warren?”

“No,” I replied.

“Warren, tell me.”

I guess we’ll always be connected at a deep, intuitive level. There is no lying to her, I thought.

“It’s really nothing, Cindy, See that Fiat at the end of the parking lot? I thought I saw it coming out of the village. Being a photographer and now a writer, I tend to be more observant than most. It’s nothing, I’m sure.” How quickly a little thing can end a good mood and bring up the memories of fear and being hunted from three years earlier.

We headed down from the pass to Aosta for lunch. I parked the car near the Arch of Augustus. As we got out of the car, Cindy said, “My God, what a charming village, with snow still on the top of the Alps as a backdrop. Just beautiful.”

“Come on. There’s a restaurant just on the right as we enter the city going towards the Roman Gate.” We had lunch at the Ristorante Il Borgo Antico. After a great lunch and enjoying an espresso, I asked “Cindy, is there something wrong at home? I mean do you think there’s a reason someone would be following you?”

“What? No, of course not. Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t want to alarm you or make you paranoid, but there’s a man drinking coffee just to my right down the street. This is the second time I’ve seen him today. He was with the car we saw at Gran San Bernardo, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe it’s just our past that’s making me a little paranoid, but I felt I had to ask. When we leave, take notice of him and remember the face.”

We finished our coffees. I paid the bill and we left. We went down the street through the Roman Gate, made a right and headed to the Roman Ruins, and what was left of the Roman Theater. After touring the ruins, we went back to the car and headed home.

Cindy was quiet. After about 30 minutes of looking out the window, she said, “I saw that man one more time today, just before we got to the car; he was looking into a*****e window which also gave him a view of the car in the reflection.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, also.” Wanting to change the topic and hopefully the mood, I said, “I thought we would eat at the Tre Re in Castellamonte again tonight. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.”

The rest of the time driving back home, nothing much was said. Cindy’s mood had darkened, and I have to admit I was concerned. I was wondering if this person following us was the same person outside my kitchen window.

We arrived at Castellamonte around 7:00 p.m., and parked in front of Carrefour Express.

Cindy looked at me, confused. “I want to get something for breakfast. Anything you would like me to get?”

“Maybe some fruit?”

“Got it.”

I came out of Carrefour and then I drove straight to the Tre Re.

We entered the Tre Re and Mario, the owner, was at the counter. As we walked up, I raised two fingers and Mario gave me a nod and grabbed two menus. He proceeded to seat us at a table in the back. As he seated us, he turned to me and gave me a look that I knew meant something was up. I asked for two bottles of water without gas and he nodded and left. He returned with the water. As he sat my bottle down, he slid a note under my napkin with a hand movement that would make the best magician proud. I poured myself a glass of water. As I put my napkin on my lap with a move as smooth as his, I took the note.

After we ordered, I excused myself to go wash my hands. I entered the bathroom and read the note. “Mr. Steelgrave, let me first apologize for today. I was not sure I had the right house this morning. I knew from your reputation, you would see that I was tailing you. I was not worried about you. My orders were that, before I approach you, I should make sure that no one was tailing me. Jim Marino needs your help and asked that I contact you. Is there a time and place we can meet? Let Mario know.”

I thought for a minute. The village was so small he would know if he was followed. I wrote on the back of the same note: “My house tomorrow night at 8:00.”

I exited the restroom. On my way back to the table, I stopped at the register to request champagne, and slid the note to Mario.

As I sat down at the table, Cindy looked at me and said, “What did the note say?”

I looked up with a puzzled look as if to say, what are you talking about? But then I realized I better not try to lie. “Nothing for us to worry about; lets enjoy dinner and I’ll fill you in when we get back to my place.”

She smiled, relaxed, and said, “Good.”

We had a very relaxing dinner. Cindy could sense my mood change after coming back from the restroom. She could tell the note had something to do with us being followed and it had relieved my concerns. She would wait for the details. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy being with me.

After dinner, we drove back to Varni. We entered the house and I started to the kitchen. “A nightcap?” I asked.

“Sure,” was her reply.

I went over to a small Cabinet Bar in the living room, and got out a bottle of Amaretto and two glasses. I set the two cocktail glasses on the counter and filled them with ice and Amaretto.

I turned and followed Cindy through the French doors onto the terrace. We sat in silence, admiring the view. It was a warm, still night and the moon was three quarters full. Cindy broke the silence, saying, “This view tonight takes me to that night we spent in Monte Carlo.”

“I was thinking the same thing . . . About the note. The gentleman following us today was looking for an opportunity to approach me. He needs to meet with me and wanted to be sure he wasn’t being followed before he approached me. He was sent by Jim Marino. You remember Jim?”

“Of course. He was the deck of cards, the one responsible for saving our lives.”

“I am not sure what he needs. That gentleman is going to meet with me here tomorrow night.”

“What if he is followed tomorrow?”

“First, he is smart. That’s why he waited for the perfect time and place to get me the note. Second, you saw how small and dark the road is coming up here, no traffic. If a car starts to follow him, he will see them turn onto the road. If someone does, he can go left at the “Y” and go to the village of Campo and back to Castellamonte.” I sat a moment, then said low and half to myself, “We’ll find out soon enough what this is all about.”

“Good,” was Cindy’s response.

We sat in silence enjoying each other’s presence. I was thinking of how much I enjoyed the day when Cindy broke the silence.

“Warren, I have been wanting to ask, have you been writing?”

“That is funny you should ask me that. My publisher has been on me for three months to start a new book. He wants a sequel to the first book. He says he gets many letters wanting to know what happened to the girl and the guy. I’ve been putting him off because I haven’t told anyone that – although it was written as fiction – it was too close to the reality of what happened. How can I write a made-up story about my life? I’m not really a writer. All I did was put to paper the story from the diary in my mind of the events from three years ago. I never planned on it being a best seller. It was a way for me to stay connected to you. I had an editor go through it, and in that process, I was contacted by the gentleman who is now my agent. The answer is, No, I have not started a new book.”

We finished our drinks and I stood up to take them into the kitchen. She stood and began to follow. She reached forward and slid her arm through mine and kind of hugged me as we entered the house. “I am here, Jim Marino is contacting you, and we are being followed all on my first day. This could be the beginning of a sequel.”