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Harper stood as well and grabbed her upper arm to turn her around. She glared at him, so he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I won’t speak about it if you’ll answer some questions I have. Believe me, L-L—Georgie, if I’m wrong, I’ll apologize and go away. I will. But I need to find out a few things first.”
He knew when she found out what his plans were for packaging and shipping Lipori to the U.S., he risked losing her for good. But it was worth it to get more clues as to what happened.
For a second, she looked resigned and sat. She checked her watch.
“I rescheduled an appointment to meet you. I can’t stay long.”
“So I’ll make it quick. Who is Jakob Lipori to you? How did you meet him?”
She sipped her chai and stared into her lap. Her eyes wandered through the deli, searching the tables sparsely filled with locals. Outside, it had begun to rain. Then they made eye contact.
“I woke up in a hospital here, well, in Florence. They told me I’d been involved in an accident. I’d apparently been in a coma for several months and wasn’t expected to live.”
She pulled aside the front of her shirt and revealed a large scar over her left side. It resembled post-surgical heart transplant photos he’d seen. Several bubble gum scars surrounded the massive area of scar tissue. A long thin line extended along her clavicle, heading out to her shoulder area.
Her eyes defiantly watched him take it all in. He couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes, one spilling over. The massive scar tissue did speak to some heavy life-saving procedures done on her. He was grateful to whomever was responsible for her care.
Her expression softened slightly. She pulled back her shirt and then covered it with her jacket. “Do you believe that?”
“Of course I do.” He reached into his pocket and produced the picture of her lifeless body being carried by a man that day in Africa. “This is what I was shown, as the proof of your death. Until then, I was given a report of an aid mission in Benin that went horribly wrong, where a group of terrorists murdered the missionaries, you among them. I knew you to be a nurse. I was to follow you there, but you were gone before I could make it.”
Her expression was hard to read. Her forefinger brushed against the image of the man who carried her. He needed to be careful, but he had to ask the question anyway.
“Do you believe me?”
She hesitated, reflex starting to kick in to deny what her eyes were seeing “I was told another story, and photographs can be altered.”
Harper knew this had to be the case and was glad she was finally willing to talk about how she got here.
“I believe you. Some important people I trust with my life say no. You know who that man is, don’t you?”
She refused to answer.
“Okay then, tell me about your life here and how you met Jakob Lipori?”
“You would have me believe he’s a terrorist?”
“Do you love him?”
Again, her eyes went to flame. “How dare you—”
“It’s a simple question. I need to know. Are you in love with him? Think about it carefully because your answer has consequences.”
“Are you a policeman, CIA agent?”
“No. I am not. But I’ve been searching for you for these past two years, and even though asked to give up, I’ve refused.” He knew it was a little white lie. He’d believed she was dead and didn’t hope to believe she still might be alive. But he had to make it fit into what could be plausible, and he had to go carefully since he could see there was a relationship there.
“I’m not into revenge, if that’s your idea of getting acquainted with me. Trying to dirty the man I live with.”
“You live with him, but do you love him?”
“I owe him a great deal—”
“The question still stands.”
“What are you looking for?”
Fair enough. “I’m looking for my wife. Search yourself, and see if you think she’s in there,” he pointed to her heart.
