Read Online To Catch a Cook: An Angie Amalfi Mystery by Joanne Pence - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joanne Pence
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was taller than he’d imagined, and bore herself in a stiff, cautious manner. Clipped to the waistband of her dress was an identification badge of some kind.
Beside her stood a hard-featured older man. He wore a similar badge clipped to the lapel of his suit jacket. His face was heavily lined and shades darker than the woman’s. His eyes were thin slits from squinting, his mouth turned down at the edges, and his brows crossed. His short hair, Paavo saw, was as black as Jessica’s had been.
Jessie had never known who her father was. It was hard to imagine this dour-looking man being him, but the resemblance showed in the dimpled chin and in the widow’s peak. How odd that Aulis hadn’t given her this picture. But then, Paavo didn’t know his own father either—only that he wasn’t the same as Jessica’s.
He’d always assumed that meant his mother was “just that kind of a gal.” Love ’em and leave ’em Mary Smith. She walked out on men, on her own kids. She was a real winner. Good old Mom.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he reached again for the Ford envelope and shook it, dropping out the smaller white one still inside. On its face, in a cursive, feminine hand, Aulis’s name had been written.
Inside were two sheets of paper. The first was a simple statement.
I hereby grant Aulis Kokkonen full authority to care for my children, Jessica Ann and Paavo Smith, until my return. This includes the right to authorize any medical care necessary .
Mary Smith
He snorted, surprised his mother had bothered with such legal niceties. Maybe she’d run off andleft them with Aulis more than once, and the last time hadn’t returned.
He put the sheet aside. The one under it was a letter, written in the same hand as the statement had been. As he read, his throat began closing, tightening, until he could scarcely breathe.
Aulis ,
I’m a dead woman. I’ve failed. Take care of my children, dear friend. Enclosed are the documents you will need. Tell them nothing about me—absolutely nothing. It’s the only way they will be safe. Kiss Jessie and Paavo good-bye for me. Please destroy this letter .
Cecily
He stared at the letter, unable to believe its contents. Reading it again, he was hurled back in time and place. The old pain, the loneliness, the question why —all those feelings he had sworn he would never again allow himself about his mother or his past—washed over him. He was back at the age when he told himself that strong boys don’t cry, the age he had taught himself not to do so any longer.
He dropped his head forward, his eyes squeezed tight. Kiss Jessie and Paavo good-bye for me .
It hurt his heart to see those words.
Cecily. Why had his mother signed her name Cecily? Her name was Mary. Mary Smith…so common a name he’d almost, almost believed it was false. But then if someone were choosing a fake name, he’d convinced himself, she would certainly pick something less blatantly phony than Mary Smith.
Over the years he told himself he was being too suspicious thinking her name was false, being too much the cop. Now he wondered if he’d been right. Strangely, the name Cecily resonated with him. He had no idea why, but seeing it written there, hearing it in his head, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
His fingers smoothed the folds of the letter. It was undated. What did she mean about keeping her children safe? Aulis had never given any indication of them having been in danger, but that would explain why he had taken them to L.A. shortly after their mother had abandoned them…not that Paavo remembered being there. He was so young it didn’t much register on him which city he was in, but Jessica had told him about it. All he did remember was that Aulis seemed to move around quite a bit, taking him and Jessie from city to city, one small apartment to another, until they all became a blur to him. Eventually they returned to San Francisco.
He didn’t understand what any of this
Beside her stood a hard-featured older man. He wore a similar badge clipped to the lapel of his suit jacket. His face was heavily lined and shades darker than the woman’s. His eyes were thin slits from squinting, his mouth turned down at the edges, and his brows crossed. His short hair, Paavo saw, was as black as Jessica’s had been.
Jessie had never known who her father was. It was hard to imagine this dour-looking man being him, but the resemblance showed in the dimpled chin and in the widow’s peak. How odd that Aulis hadn’t given her this picture. But then, Paavo didn’t know his own father either—only that he wasn’t the same as Jessica’s.
He’d always assumed that meant his mother was “just that kind of a gal.” Love ’em and leave ’em Mary Smith. She walked out on men, on her own kids. She was a real winner. Good old Mom.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he reached again for the Ford envelope and shook it, dropping out the smaller white one still inside. On its face, in a cursive, feminine hand, Aulis’s name had been written.
Inside were two sheets of paper. The first was a simple statement.
I hereby grant Aulis Kokkonen full authority to care for my children, Jessica Ann and Paavo Smith, until my return. This includes the right to authorize any medical care necessary .
Mary Smith
He snorted, surprised his mother had bothered with such legal niceties. Maybe she’d run off andleft them with Aulis more than once, and the last time hadn’t returned.
He put the sheet aside. The one under it was a letter, written in the same hand as the statement had been. As he read, his throat began closing, tightening, until he could scarcely breathe.
Aulis ,
I’m a dead woman. I’ve failed. Take care of my children, dear friend. Enclosed are the documents you will need. Tell them nothing about me—absolutely nothing. It’s the only way they will be safe. Kiss Jessie and Paavo good-bye for me. Please destroy this letter .
Cecily
He stared at the letter, unable to believe its contents. Reading it again, he was hurled back in time and place. The old pain, the loneliness, the question why —all those feelings he had sworn he would never again allow himself about his mother or his past—washed over him. He was back at the age when he told himself that strong boys don’t cry, the age he had taught himself not to do so any longer.
He dropped his head forward, his eyes squeezed tight. Kiss Jessie and Paavo good-bye for me .
It hurt his heart to see those words.
Cecily. Why had his mother signed her name Cecily? Her name was Mary. Mary Smith…so common a name he’d almost, almost believed it was false. But then if someone were choosing a fake name, he’d convinced himself, she would certainly pick something less blatantly phony than Mary Smith.
Over the years he told himself he was being too suspicious thinking her name was false, being too much the cop. Now he wondered if he’d been right. Strangely, the name Cecily resonated with him. He had no idea why, but seeing it written there, hearing it in his head, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
His fingers smoothed the folds of the letter. It was undated. What did she mean about keeping her children safe? Aulis had never given any indication of them having been in danger, but that would explain why he had taken them to L.A. shortly after their mother had abandoned them…not that Paavo remembered being there. He was so young it didn’t much register on him which city he was in, but Jessica had told him about it. All he did remember was that Aulis seemed to move around quite a bit, taking him and Jessie from city to city, one small apartment to another, until they all became a blur to him. Eventually they returned to San Francisco.
He didn’t understand what any of this
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