Page 60 of No Stone Unturned

“Possibly.” Slash gathered some papers and stacked them neatly in a box. “But I’m not sure how to go about finding that information. I’ll have to think about it and that will take time.” He put a final box on the shelf and brushed his hands together to remove the dust.

“Well, let’s hope Father Opizzi has a good memory,” I said. “Then we won’t have to worry about that.”

Slash smiled. “My experience is that priests are only second to nuns in regards to their memories. Want to bet he’ll remember?”

I slapped my hand into his, sealing the bet. “You’ve got a deal.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Slash

Slash thanked Father Bianachi for letting them look through the records, then they left the church. On the way to the car, he and Lexi stopped in a small Italian bakery where they ate a quiet lunch of risotto and drank espresso. She was quiet, probably wondering what information the visit with Father Opizzi would bring. He wondered that, too.

He finally leaned forward and tapped her arm. “Ready?”

“Yes. Let’s go.” She took the last sip of her espresso and stood.

The drive to Licosa took only forty-five minutes, but it had a killer view of the coastline, as well as breathtaking glimpses of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Lexi snapped several photos with her phone, her enthusiasm for the view making him smile.

He followed the GPS into Licosa and through the town. According to the small map, Father Opizzi’s house was located in a rural area near the cliffs on the other side of the town. The directions eventually took them down a dirt road toward a house made of pretty stucco walls and a red tile and clay roof. They drove past a meadow with a couple of goats and a horse comingling together in the shade of a large tree. The tires kicked up rocks from the road, and the strong smell of sea air confirmed the house was indeed located near the water. Apparently Father Opizzi lived a quiet, retired existence in a heavenly setting.

Slash pulled to a stop in front of the rustic house and cut the engine. There was no car outside the house, but there was a bicycle that looked well-tended. Although the priest had sounded kind on the phone, Slash had no idea if the father would answer his questions or remember anything useful about his time spent at the church in San Mauro. But it was a lead that needed exploring.

Regardless, he remained conflicted about tracking down his paternity. There was a part of him that wanted to know about his past and a part that didn’t. What if the knowledge turned out to be damaging to his career or his relationship with Lexi? What if the information changed him as a person or affected his outlook on life? But they’d come this far, so they’d talk to the priest and see what he could tell them.

He turned to Lexi. “Are you ready,cara?”

“I’m ready.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Let’s do this.”

They walked to the front door and Slash knocked. The sounds of someone moving around could be heard from inside.

A man with gray hair and a cane opened the door. He wore dark slacks and a white T-shirt, his feet in brown sandals. He squinted in the sunlight and cupped his hand over his eyes as he surveyed them.

“Father Daniel Opizzi?” Slash said in Italian. “I’m the one who called you from the church at San Mauro Cilento.”

“Yes, please come in.”

Slash put a hand on the small of Lexi’s back, ushering her forward so he could introduce her. “This is my fiancée, Lexi Carmichael, from America. She doesn’t speak Italian.”

“That’s okay,” the priest answered. “I know English, and I’m happy to speak in a language you both understand.”

“That’s kind of you,” Slash responded in English. “Thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“Of course. Please come in.” He ushered them inside the house.

Once inside, Lexi removed her hat. She was sweating, as was he. Even though the house had no air-conditioning, the shade was a welcome relief from the direct heat of the sun.

Slash did a quick survey of the room. Two visible exits, three windows, a television, a couch, a small desk with a small laptop, a round table and four chairs. The balcony doors, which were an exit to the back, were open and offered a slight cross breeze.

Religious artifacts and pictures of Jesus and numerous other saints hung on the wall, including the two new candidates for sainthood. The candles in the small makeshift shrine beneath them were currently lit.

The priest invited them to sit at the table. The table had a colorful woven mat with an open bottle of red wine on it. Lexi sat in the chair next to Slash.

“Would you like something to drink?” Father Opizzi asked them.

“Coffee would be wonderful. Lexi?”

“Do you have anything cold?” she asked. “I don’t think I could bear to drink something hot in this heat.”

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