The Bride of Montefalco

Aside from physically removing the two in the back seat to a protected place away from media invasion, there didn’t seem to be a thing in hell he could do about unscrupulous journalists digging up old lies on him in order to sell more newspapers. Since his teens, battling the press had been the story of his life. Now it was about to be the story of Sofia’s, but not if he could help it!

The orchestra conductor put down his baton. “Take a ten minute break. Then we’ll pick up the Brahms at bar 20.”

Thankful for the respite, Ally placed her violin on the seat and filed out of the music hall behind the other members of the string section.

She walked down the corridor where she could be alone and reached in her purse for her cell phone.

She was expecting a call back from her doctor. After the meeting with the detective yesterday, she’d developed a migraine that still hadn’t gone away. To her dismay there was no message from the doctor. Maybe he’d tried her house phone and had left one.

Sure enough when she retrieved her messages, she learned his nurse had called in a prescription for the pain. If she could just get some relief…

Right now nothing seemed real. The hurt of her failed marriage and the circumstances surrounding Jim’s death had gone too deep.

There was one more message, but she’d wait until she got home because the throbbing at the base of her skull refused to let up.

“Ally?” Carol called to her. “Are you all right?”

“I-it’s a migraine giving me grief. Do me a favor and tell the maestro I had to go home, but I’ll be here in the morning for rehearsal.”

The Portland Philharmonic Orchestra’s end of May concert was the day after tomorrow.

“I will. Don’t worry about your violin. I’ll take it home with me and bring it back tomorrow.”

“You’re an angel.”

After getting a drink from the fountain, Ally found the strength to leave the building and head for her car.

Once she’d stopped at the pharmacy where she’d taken one of her pills on the spot, she drove straight home and went to bed with an ice bag across her forehead.

An hour passed before she started to feel a little better. But there was no pill to stop the questions that wouldn’t leave her alone.

For one thing, she wanted to see the place where Jim had died. Her mother hadn’t thought it a good idea because visiting the scene of the accident would be too painful.

But Ally couldn’t be in any more pain than she was right now. She needed to look at the bridge where Jim’s car had skidded on ice into the river. It had happened during a blizzard outside St. Moritz, Switzerland.

She also felt a compulsion to see Donata’s family home, maybe even commiserate with the Duc on the phone after she arrived in Montefalco. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have questions, too. Maybe talking together would help both of them cope a little better with the tragedy.

Filled with a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in months, she reached for her cell to phone the airlines. Using her credit card she booked a flight out of Portland for the next day. She would fly to Switzerland, then Italy.

By midafternoon she felt well enough to drive to the bank for traveler’s checks. The decision to do something concrete about her situation was probably more therapeutic than taking pills because she found the energy to get packed and arrange for her neighbor to bring in her mail while she was gone.

Once she’d showered, she took another pill and went to bed. When she awakened the next morning she felt considerably better.

With her car safely parked in the garage, all she had left to do was phone for a taxi. While she waited for it to come, Ally listened to the message that had been on her home phone since yesterday morning.

“Hey, Jim! This is Troy at the Golden Arm Gym. Since new management is taking over, we’ve been cleaning out the lockers. I found something pretty valuable of yours. I don’t have a phone number or address on you, so I’ve been calling all the J., Jim or James Parkers in the city trying to find you. Call me back either way so I can cross you off the list. If you’re that Jim, drop by within twenty-four hours or it’ll be gone.”

Ally had buried her husband two months ago. Just hearing someone ask to speak to him today of all days sent a chill through her body. This call was like a ghost from the past.

Since Jim had never joined a gym, she phoned the number to let them know.

“Golden Arm Gym.”

“Is Troy there?”

“Speaking.”

“You’re the person who called my house yesterday morning. I’m Mrs. James Parker, but I’m afraid you have the wrong Jim Parker.”

“Okay. The Jim I’m looking for works in Europe a lot, and he doesn’t have a wife. Thanks for letting me know.”

He clicked off, but Ally’s fingers tightened around the receiver. Much as she wanted to dismiss his words, she couldn’t. Too often in her marriage she’d ignored little signs because she hadn’t wanted to believe anything could be wrong.

But those days were over. She was no longer the naïve idealist he’d married.

Once the taxi arrived, she instructed the driver to stop by the gym. It was on the other side of Portland near the freeway leading to the airport. There was no time to lose.

The driver waited while she hurried inside the gym.

When she entered, there were several people already working out. The trainer at the counter flashed her a look of male interest.

“Hi!”

“Hello. Are you Troy?

“That’s right.”

“I’m Mrs. Parker, the woman you spoke to this morning.”

He squinted at her. “I thought you told me I had the wrong person.”

“Something you said forced me to reconsider. Did this Jim tell you what kind of work he did in Europe?”

“Yeah. He sells ski wear. In fact we worked out a deal. I gave him free workouts in exchange for his top of the line ski equipment.”

She took a fortifying breath. “Then that was my husband.”

He blinked. “What do you mean ‘was’?”

“Jim died four months ago.”

“You’re kidding. So that’s why I haven’t seen him around. What happened?”

“He died in a car accident.”

Had there been other women before Donata, and she’d happened to be the unlucky one who’d gone off the bridge with him?

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Parker. Maybe I misunderstood about him not being married.”