Cain's Cross Read online

  “Where are you from?”

  “Lately the US.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Your flight came from Switzerland, out of Geneva though, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Again he didn’t elaborate. She frowned. “Well, you’ll like the breakfast offered at the B&B, and, after that, you can get lunch and dinner from plenty of little places around the village,” she said. “A couple grocery stores are within walking distance, if you just want a sandwich or something too.”

  “Good,” he said. “Not sure how long we’ll be staying.”

  “You’ve booked two rooms for two nights, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She nodded and kept driving carefully through the area. People were well-known for jaywalking, as they crisscrossed the road, usually talking with their friends or with their arms full of fresh bread. She slowed her speed, as she watched several people step off the curb up ahead. But she was ready, and, before they ever made it partway through the street, she slowed down for them.

  “I see that vehicles don’t get much respect either,” the guy up front said humorously.

  “Small towns,” she said, “people get distracted.”

  “And yet you stop, so that’s good,” the guy in the back said.

  “What else would I do?” she asked in exasperation. “Hit them?”

  “In the US, that might have happened,” he said with a laugh.

  That made her smile. “Not here,” she said, as she pulled ahead, turned right, then left, and kept driving another seven blocks. Finally she pulled into a long driveway with access to the house at the back of the property. She pulled up to the front, which was a roundabout, then shut off the engine.

  “This is our destination, gentlemen.” She hopped out and opened the trunk. Both men had their bags with them, but she took out her sign with their names on it.

  Just as she closed the trunk, the front door of the house opened, and her aunt and uncle came out. Immediately they came to meet their visitors. She looked at her father, who sat in a rocking chair on the veranda. She dashed up the steps and said, “Hey, Papa. How are you doing?”

  As usual, she got the same vacant look and lack of response, which broke her heart. She bent down, kissed him gently on the cheek, and tenderly gripped his hand. “It’s good to see you, Papa.”

  She heard the chatter of voices behind her, as her aunt and uncle greeted the visitors and ushered them inside. Petra sat on the front porch in a rocker beside her father. He’d been like this for the last year and a half. He’d had a car accident and had initially appeared to recover, but then he took a terrible turn, nearly dying, and hadn’t emerged from this state of senility ever since. He ate, if the food was given to him, and drank, if a glass was put in his hand. Most of the time he would sit here and stare out at the scenery. If her uncle took her dad into the bathroom, he would go. If put into the shower, he would have a shower. But going from action to action was almost beyond him. It broke her heart to see him this way.

  Her uncle looked after his physical needs; her aunt took care of his food and room. For Petra, well, she paid the bill. Sure, it was at a family rate, but somebody still had to come up with the money to keep her father. He had money of his own, but she hadn’t even pursued using it, hoping he would recover and need it himself—or, as a fallback, someday he may need a higher level of care, and she’d need his money then. He was a relatively young man and could live quite a long time, though he didn’t have much of a life at the moment. But Petra did what she could for him.

  She also helped out her aunt and uncle whenever they needed it. Today was her day off, and, as soon as they found that out, they’d asked her to make the trip into town. It’s not that she minded so much; it’s just that going into the city was not what she wanted to do on her day off. With her free time, she pursued her personal medical research. Still, one didn’t always get the luxury of choices. And who knew that better than she did.

  A chatty voice called out to her. She shifted her gaze from her father to her aunt, calling her.

  “Come in, Petra. Come in,” she said. “You must come in.”

  Groaning, Petra stood.

  Chapter 2

  Inside the kitchen, Petra walked over and put on the coffee. Her aunt seemed to think that, when Petra was here, she should play hostess, which was the last thing Petra wanted to do. She’d already been about as nice as she could possibly manage. Just something about these two new arrivals disturbed her in some way. Not necessarily in a bad way. In an unknown way. She shook her head. She would be very happy to take her leave sooner rather than later today.

  Even the one who had spoken to her from the back seat had such a magnetic quality that it bothered her as much as the other one, who seemed more standoffish. They were both men she wouldn’t want to see in a dark alley. But almost immediately her rational mind corrected her. You don’t want to see them in a dark alley—unless of course they were on your side. And God help anybody else who was in that alley.

  That’s really what it was all about. It was just that sense of men who do right.

  As she waited on the coffee, she opened up the breadbox, which her aunt always kept full of pound cake. Petra brought one out, sliced several pieces, and put them on a plate. Then she loaded up the cake and coffee on a serving platter and took it in to the two men. They sat there, in the front sitting room, having what passed for a social conversation, but they obviously made her aunt and uncle feel uncomfortable.

  Taking pity on them, once she saw the beseeching look in her aunt’s gaze, Petra sat down with her own cup of coffee. “These guys work in security,” she announced. “They’re just here for a couple days.”

  Almost instantly her uncle relaxed. Whether it was the fact that they were only here for a couple days, or that they were in security, Petra didn’t know. “Are you working for a company then?”

  The man who had sat in her front seat smiled. “More or less,” he said. “We’re just here to check out a few things.”

  Maybe not lies but definitely evasive, yet it came across smooth and completely in control and seemed quite normal for him. That made her a little more wary. She smiled at her aunt and uncle and said, “I already introduced myself. Did you two?”

  Her uncle shook his head. “I’m Pedro,” he said, reaching across to shake hands with the two men.

  The quieter one said, “I’m Cain. This is Eton.”

  She already knew their names, of course, but she didn’t know which one was which. Until now. Cain had been in her front seat, Eton in the back seat. Something about Cain and Eton was very strange to begin with, not to mention their names.

  Her aunt smiled and said, “I’m Migi. Everybody calls me that.”

  Eton nodded and said, “The pound cake is really good.”

  Something was so honest and forthright about his tone that her aunt also relaxed. Petra wondered about that because it typically wasn’t easy to get the two of them to calm down. Once they got upset about something, it took forever to settle them again.

  Cain nodded, and both men looked at Petra, waiting for her expectantly.

  She shrugged and said, “Now that we all know each other, I’ll go spend a few minutes outside with my father, before I head home.”

  Her aunt jumped up nervously. “You should stay for dinner,” she announced.

  She stared at her aunt and frowned because the last time she’d stayed for dinner, her aunt had called her ungrateful. “I need to go home,” she said in a calm, firm voice.

  Migi shook her head. “No. Your father has not been well. He needs you to spend time with him.”

  “My father doesn’t know if I’m even here or not,” she said lightly. “As sad as that makes me feel,” she said, “I know the truth of it, and I no longer feel guilty about leaving him behind.”

  “You still need to spend time with him,” Migi said.

  Petra rolled her eyes. She was trying to keep things polite in front o
f company, but it was a little hard when her aunt was pushing like this. “And why would I stay for dinner?” she countered.

  “I’m making your favorite,” her aunt said.

  “And what’s that?”

  She named a traditional dish for their area, full of pasta, black olives, tomatoes, and fresh seafood. Petra could feel her resistance wavering.

  Her uncle jumped in and said quietly, “Please, we’d love to have you stay. We don’t see enough of you as it is.”

  He was trying to make amends for Migi again. Her aunt had a temper and often alienated people, long before they had a chance to get to know her. But Petra knew Migi very well, and she could be bitchy and mean. Petra laughed.

  Cain looked at her and said, “It’d be nice to get to know you a little more,” he said lightly.

  She frowned at him. “Why?” she asked. “Unless you want to ask questions about the village, I don’t know that there’s anything we can really talk about.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Questions about the village will be a good topic.”

  She felt like she’d somehow been maneuvered into a trap but didn’t know how to explain it. She shrugged and said, “Fine, provided we’re eating early.”

  “We’ll be eating early enough,” Migi said. She jumped up and headed to the kitchen.

  Petra looked at Cain and frowned. “Why do I feel like that’s exactly the ending you wanted?”

  He raised an eyebrow, as he stared at her in a genial manner. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said. “I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot somehow.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m just tired.”

  Her uncle spoke up again. “She works hard,” he said proudly. “She’s a scientist.”

  “Doesn’t matter what I am,” she said, “because I’m not getting anywhere with my work anyway.”

  “What kind of work?” Eton asked.

  “I’m doing research on dementia and Alzheimer cases, like my father has.”

  “Ah,” he said, with understanding. “That’s got to be difficult.”

  “Very,” she said, “and it makes no sense.”

  “Bacterial?” Eton asked.

  She looked at him in surprise. “I looked at that,” she said, “but all the tests have come up negative.”

  “Maybe it’s just a case of his body’s worn out, and his mind took an easy escape.”

  “And that could be,” she said, “but it doesn’t sound like my father.”

  “Sometimes the mind just takes over,” Eton said. “And there’s no real understanding of why.”

  “I’ve been in medicine for ten years,” she said, with a sad smile. “Ten years. And since this happened to him in the last two, that has been my focus. There are just no answers.”

  Migi left the kitchen to rejoin them again. “So she quit,” Migi said in an angry voice.

  “No, I didn’t quit. I just didn’t find another avenue to pursue. I’m a lab technician. I work in a lab and have plenty to do,” she said in exasperation. “I finance the research on my father on my own, but I have other work I must do.”

  “The lab should finance your father’s case,” her aunt said.

  “Doesn’t matter what they should or should not do,” she said, almost by rote because she’d had this argument so many times. “They run a business. That means they must make a profit or otherwise won’t have enough money to keep the bills paid. What I’m doing doesn’t matter to anybody other than us.”

  “There are other people like your father,” Migi snapped. And then she sat down heavily on the couch beside her husband. Her aunt was very pear-shaped, with an extrawide bottom and hips. The rest of her was quite small and tiny, but, when she sat, it was enough to make the couch shake. Her uncle looked at her, but he knew enough to keep quiet.

  Petra got up slowly and said, “Well, I guess, if I’ll stay for a little bit, I should go visit with him.”

  Her aunt opened her mouth to protest, but her uncle grabbed her hand and placed it on his lap. “She’s fine. Let her spend some time with her father.”

  Migi forced a smile and nodded, as if to make everything sound like it was fine.

  But Petra knew in her heart of hearts it wasn’t, and, chances were, it never would be.

  *

  Interesting family dynamics, Cain thought. They’d been shown their rooms and given an hour to relax before dinner was ready. Cain was grateful to have a hot meal right here the first night because it hadn’t been a guarantee. The bed-and-breakfast typically only provided breakfast. The place was well-maintained but showing signs of aging. The fact that they were keeping Petra’s father here and looking after him was also obviously a bit of a thorn in their side. He suspected that Petra paid them to do it, which was good of her, but the whole thing was probably very frustrating too. That she didn’t stay here also said something about the family dynamics. Though, with that family sharing a house, it might be far too much to expect of her.

  As he looked around his room, he noted the bathroom would be shared with Eton. Cain opened the connecting door and stepped through to see Eton hanging up his bag. “What do you think?”

  “Seems like the family has some problems,” Eton said thoughtfully. “And I’m sure the father’s condition is a big part of it. Obviously the daughter is paying for his room and care.”

  “And yet there was no mention of it,” Cain noted.

  “No, but she’s the one with a job, and the aunt and uncle obviously need the money. I think definitely some frustration and anxiety are there, maybe resentment over it all,” Eton replied.

  “Yeah, that was my take too,” Cain said. “Don’t know what happened to the father, but it’s sad either way.”

  “Maybe nothing happened. We know he had a car accident, and clearly his brain is injured.” He thought he knew what part of the brain was probably damaged. “Western medicine might have something to offer, but I highly doubt it. And Italy is well-known for their medicine and their advanced medical procedures as well,” Eton said. “It’s possible an ulcer or something is involved, but it’s also possible that part of the brain just died.”

  “I don’t think that’s something anybody here wants to think about,” Cain said.

  “No, but, in the meantime, it looks like the daughter is keeping them all afloat. That’s sad. Gotta be added stress for her.”

  “Yes, I wondered if Petra’s funds are the only thing keeping the bed-and-breakfast running,” said Cain.

  “And yet I got the feeling it’s been going on for a while.”

  “So maybe it’s not terribly successful.”

  Eton looked around the bedrooms. “It’s clean and neat, almost painfully so,” he said. “But definitely older by twenty or thirty years. And I didn’t see much commerce thriving as we came into town.”

  “No, and that’s probably what the problem is,” Cain said. “When you think about it, I’m not sure the uncle even works a job, and neither does the aunt. Looks like the bed-and-breakfast is their sole source of income. Petra is the only one who works, and as a scientist. I find that interesting.”

  “Interesting. Maybe it doesn’t mean much.”

  “No, it doesn’t seem to here. Still, let’s see what we can find out about the family and about the town itself.”

  As they headed back down for dinner, things were a little lighter, as if the family had intentionally decided not to fight in front of strangers. Cain agreed with that, in theory, and hoped it loosened up their tongues because, right now, they could use some information.

  As they sat down, Petra asked him, “So why this town?”

  “Because it’s obviously economically distressed,” he said bluntly. That was just what he’d gleaned from the family’s own turbulence.

  Petra nodded. “Yes. We’ve been hit hard for the last few years.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “We assumed it was just politics and annual seasonal spikes,” she said. “But honestly the
bed-and-breakfast hasn’t been doing very well this year.”

  Migi immediately jumped up and said, “It’s been doing just fine. It’s been very busy.”

  As Cain looked back at Petra, she rolled her eyes. He hid his smile but understood the aunt and uncle were trying to maintain face, so they didn’t lose more customers. But Petra was on the inside and knew things were definitely not the same as they had been.

  “I think that’s probably the course for the whole town, isn’t it?” Eton asked.

  “Several of the factories have closed down,” the uncle spoke up. “That caused many of us to lose our jobs. I’m too old to get another one now, so we just live off the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Good then,” Eton said, “that we picked this place to stay.”

  The uncle smiled a great big beaming smile. “Maybe you’ll come back too,” he said. “Lots of the older families are here. I’ve had to make adjustments.”

  “Yeah? Like what kind of old families?”

  “In this town there were four original families,” he said. “They came in and started farming, gardening the orchards and the olive groves, and it just grew from there. The Marconis, the Rossellinis, the Roscos, and the Marshawns.”

  Marshawn was one of the names they were interested in. Cain glanced at his partner.

  Eton nodded. “Are they all still running the land even now?”

  “Yes,” Pedro said, “but there hasn’t been enough work for all the younger generations of the families to take over. That’s been tough because some have gone off to do their own thing. But doing their own thing hasn’t necessarily been easy or smart.”

  “And I guess it also depends,” Cain said, “on whether those not-so-easy or smart choices have been good business decisions or not.”

  “Many of the young people have had to take on other jobs,” the uncle said. “Some have gone into various businesses, like security and contract work. They travel all over the world.”

  “Slimeballs, if you ask me, the lot of them,” Petra said.

  “Chico, for one,” her uncle said, nodding.

  She grimaced at that. “Ugh. Chico’s definitely a slimeball. I understand nobody’s even heard from him for a few weeks now.”