Susannah followed the woman’s gaze to the rosary she clutched in her own hands. “Yes.” Much to her parents’ chagrin, which had been the original point years ago. “I found the rosary up by the podium. I didn’t think anyone would mind if I used it.”
“You’ll take one of mine,” the woman pronounced, digging in her enormous purse. “I have extra.” She was Eastern European. Or… Greek. Okay. Now it made sense.
“You’re Mrs. Papadopoulos,” Susannah murmured. Luke’s mother. “You came to my parents’ funeral.”
“I did.” She took the borrowed rosary from Susannah’s hand and replaced it with her own. “You’ll call me Mama Papa. Everyone does.”
One side of Susannah’s mouth lifted. Somehow she couldn’t see Luke’s mother taking no for an answer on anything. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” Mrs. Papadopoulos drew a second rosary from her purse and began to pray. “Do you not pray for your brother?” she asked abruptly.
Susannah dropped her gaze. “Of course.” But she hadn’t been, not really. She’d been praying for the strength to do what needed to be done. No matter what the cost.
“Daniel is out of danger,” Mrs. Papadopoulos told her. “He will be all right.”
Thank you. Her heart whispered the prayer her mind would not allow. “Thank you,” she murmured to Luke’s mother, still feeling the woman’s probing stare.
“Complicated,” the woman finally muttered. “So why are you really here, Susannah?”
Susannah frowned. Nosy woman. “Because it was quiet. I needed to think.”
“About?”
She looked up, her eyes cool. “It’s not really your business, Mrs. Papadopoulos.”
She expected the woman to flounce away. Instead she smiled, gently. “I know. I ask anyway. Daniel is my family. You are Daniel’s family.” She shrugged. “So I ask.”
Sudden tears burned at Susannah’s eyes and again she dropped her gaze. Her throat grew thick, but the words seemed to bubble up. “I’m at a crossroads.”
“Life is full of crossroads.”
“I know. But this one is a big one.” It’s my life, my career. My dreams.
Mrs. Papadopoulos seemed to consider this. “So you came to church.”
“No, I actually came here because it was quiet.” She’d escaped here. She’d done so once before, escaping to a church after she’d committed a deed so contemptible…
She’d hated herself then, had been too ashamed even to confess to a priest. But still she’d escaped to a church and had somehow found the strength to go on. To do something that approximated the right thing. Today she would do the one right thing. This time there would be no turning back. This time she’d have her self-respect.
Luke’s mother looked at the rosary in Susannah’s hands. “And you found peace.”
“As much as I…” Deserve. “As much as I can expect.” More than peace, she’d found strength, and of the two, strength was what she needed most today.
“When first I come in, I thought you were a doctor.” Luke’s mother tugged at the scrubs Susannah wore. “What happened to your clothes?”
“My clothes were messed up. One of the nurses loaned me these until I can get some more clothes.”
Mrs. Papadopoulos grasped her enormous purse in both hands. “Where is your suitcase? I will get your clothes and bring them here. You stay here with Daniel.”
“I don’t have any more clothes. I, um, didn’t bring any with me.”
“You came all the way from New York City and brought not one stitch of clothing?” The woman lifted her brows and Susannah felt compelled to explain.
“I came today on an impulse.”
“An impulse.” She shook her head. “Complicated. So you did not plan to stay?”
“No. I’ll go home…” Susannah frowned, suddenly unsure and uncomfortable to be so. “I’m waiting for another patient to wake up. When she’s all right, I’ll go home.”
Mrs. Papadopoulos stood up. “Well, you cannot go anywhere dressed like that. You have not even any shoes.” It was true. Susannah wore hospital slippers. “Give me your sizes. My granddaughter works in a clothing store at the mall. She is a fashionable girl. She will get pretty things.” She stood up and Susannah followed suit.
“Mrs. Papadopoulos, you don’t have to-” A fierce look had Susannah backpedaling. “Mama Papa, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Mrs. Papadopoulos stared down at her and Susannah could see where her son got his probing black eyes that seemed to see too much. “Daniel’s Alex told me what you did for that girl, the one you saved.”
Susannah frowned. “I don’t think anybody is supposed to know about her.”
Mrs. Papadopoulos shrugged. “Already I have forgotten her.” Then she smiled kindly. “You didn’t have to save her.”
Susannah swallowed hard. She’d had blood drawn and cultures taken, knowing every possible test would be run to ensure her health. Still it was possible she could pay dearly for what she had done today.
But Jane Doe had paid dearly for what she had not done all those years ago. “Yes, I did. I really did.”
“Then yes, I do,” Mrs. Papadopoulos said, so gently that new tears sprang to Susannah’s eyes. “I really do. So say thank you and allow me this good deed today.”
The need to do a good deed Susannah could understand. “I’m a seven petite,” she said. “Thank you.” Luke’s mother gave her a giant hug and left her alone in the chapel.
Susannah squared her shoulders. She’d done what she needed to do this morning when she’d found the box. She’d done what she needed to do that afternoon, when she’d saved Jane Doe from bleeding to death. Now she’d do what she needed to do tonight. Daniel’s boss had given her the phone number for Chloe Hathaway, the state’s attorney who’d be prosecuting the sole remaining survivor of Simon’s club.
Susannah picked up her briefcase and left the haven of the chapel. She had things to do. Calls to make. Her self-respect to regain. But first she’d check on Jane Doe.
Ridgefield House, Friday, February 2, 8:00 p.m.
“They’re ready,” Rocky said.
Looking up from the personnel files on the computer screen, Bobby stowed the fury that bubbled up at the sight of Rocky, who’d put everything in jeopardy. I should have gone to the river place myself. Now Bobby had to find a new doctor to issue health certificates on each shipment and a new cop on the inside of Dutton’s sheriff’s office.
At least Chili had come through. Finally. The scanner was abuzz with calls for every available firehouse to converge on Granville’s house. Mansfield ’s should be next. Who knew what incriminating evidence those two had kept in their homes?
The business would be protected. And tonight there was money to be made.
Bobby looked over the five young women standing in a row. Two were brand new pretties from the river place and they were clean again, dressed and presentable. The other three were old hands. Every one had her eyes downcast. Every one trembled, two of them shaking so hard their dangling earrings swayed. Good. Fear was good.
The outcome of tonight’s business venture was a foregone conclusion in Bobby’s mind. Haynes liked blondes with that healthy, tanned, all-American look. That look was Bobby’s niche in an ever-expanding market of foreign imports. They offered their clients a chance to buy American. “Haynes will choose the blonde. Ashley, right?”
“No.” The blonde shrank away while the other four slumped in relief. “Please.”
Bobby smiled pleasantly. “Rocky, what is Ashley’s home address?”
“Her family lives at 721 Snowbird Drive, Panama City, Florida,” Rocky replied instantly. “Her mother died two years ago and her father works the night shift. Now that she’s ‘run away,’ her father’s hired a sitter to stay with her brother while he’s at work. Her brother sometimes sneaks out at night to hang at the-”