me?”
“Not anytime soon. That card is the best clue we have so far. I doubt if the museum will discover, anytime soon, that it went missing and when the time comes, we can get it back in, unnoticed. No one will be the wiser for it. Let’s go locate that house, what’s the address?”
I handed him the slip of paper. He glanced at it. “I’m familiar with this neighborhood, this house is near the McNulty home on H Street and close to the old United Methodist Church. It’s a church that dates back to the 1800s, and it could be a lead, too. We’re just around the corner from it.”
Ozzy’s sense of adventure was endearing. I giggled out loud and then asked, “Do you plan to just walk up to the home and knock on the door?”
“Sounds like a plan to me. And look, here we are.” Ozzy turned onto H Street from 7th, he parked along the curb near the Methodist Church building. He pointed to the house in question. “Ready?”
We got out and walked up the porch steps to a neatly fashioned door. Ozzy rapped three times. I heard footsteps approach and then the door opened. I wondered what to say as an introduction. Turns out, I was too shocked to say a word, or utter a sound.
“You!” Ozzy gasped.
There stood Marta, right in front of us.
“Yes, me. And for Pete’s sake, don’t stand out there gawking at me. Come in.”
We stepped into a small hallway. To the right was a living room. A black shorthaired cat with six toes on each of its front paws came out to greet us. The cat ribboned itself around my ankles. Had I not been tharned and dazed I would have knelt down and picked it up. Instead, I glared down at Marta.
Unlike me, Ozzy had a voice and he was using it. “Why? Marta? Why? Why send us on some wild goose chase? Have you lost your mind?”
Marta smiled weakly. “I just never imagined you’d put the puzzle pieces together so quickly. After Shannon said she was going with you up to Crescent City, I called off work and drove here as fast as I could. Please, Frank has no idea, no concept whatsoever, of what this is about.”
No concept, no idea… whatsoever…? That darn well sums up my thoughts, too!
“Frank who?” I asked.
“Frank Dazi, the descendant of Jonathan Rupp’s only child, a daughter named Ella Dazi.”
CHAPTER 14
The three of us sat at the kitchen table. I listened in awe as Marta explained the circumstances surrounding us finding her at the house that had originally been owned by Mary and Peter Templeton, foster parents of Jonathan Rupp.
“Oh, I know this seems so incredulous, but I swear on my dear husband’s grave, it is the absolute truth. I did not meet Frank Dazi until this morning. In fact, when I answered the phone, I thought it was Shannon calling back, I had just hung up the phone and was not more than three feet away when it rang, again.” Marta looked to Ozzy and then me. I know she was sizing us up, did we believe her?
“Go on,” Ozzy said.
“Well, Frank’s account of everything made sense to me. He explained who he was, said he had been referred to my telephone number by Luke Landry, who, by the way had called Frank in following up on tracing the obscure antiques dealer who never showed up for my appointment with him. Frank had a very similar experience, with this same person. Anyway, when Frank related to me this scenario and said the dealer had expressed a keen interest in items that had once belonged to Jonathan Rupp, I, of course wanted to know why the dealer would contact Frank. That was when Frank explained the family connection.”
I had to interrupt and ask, “So, Frank knew about you, all these years?”
“Oh, dear no. He hadn’t a clue. In fact, he was as suspicious of my ancestry to Jonathan Rupp as I was to his. Now, though, we have it all worked out. Thanks to Luke who assured Frank that I was the real deal.”
“And how did Luke do this?” I asked.
Marta sighed. I knew my intense questioning was bothersome to her. “Luke’s call came in right after I
“Not anytime soon. That card is the best clue we have so far. I doubt if the museum will discover, anytime soon, that it went missing and when the time comes, we can get it back in, unnoticed. No one will be the wiser for it. Let’s go locate that house, what’s the address?”
I handed him the slip of paper. He glanced at it. “I’m familiar with this neighborhood, this house is near the McNulty home on H Street and close to the old United Methodist Church. It’s a church that dates back to the 1800s, and it could be a lead, too. We’re just around the corner from it.”
Ozzy’s sense of adventure was endearing. I giggled out loud and then asked, “Do you plan to just walk up to the home and knock on the door?”
“Sounds like a plan to me. And look, here we are.” Ozzy turned onto H Street from 7th, he parked along the curb near the Methodist Church building. He pointed to the house in question. “Ready?”
We got out and walked up the porch steps to a neatly fashioned door. Ozzy rapped three times. I heard footsteps approach and then the door opened. I wondered what to say as an introduction. Turns out, I was too shocked to say a word, or utter a sound.
“You!” Ozzy gasped.
There stood Marta, right in front of us.
“Yes, me. And for Pete’s sake, don’t stand out there gawking at me. Come in.”
We stepped into a small hallway. To the right was a living room. A black shorthaired cat with six toes on each of its front paws came out to greet us. The cat ribboned itself around my ankles. Had I not been tharned and dazed I would have knelt down and picked it up. Instead, I glared down at Marta.
Unlike me, Ozzy had a voice and he was using it. “Why? Marta? Why? Why send us on some wild goose chase? Have you lost your mind?”
Marta smiled weakly. “I just never imagined you’d put the puzzle pieces together so quickly. After Shannon said she was going with you up to Crescent City, I called off work and drove here as fast as I could. Please, Frank has no idea, no concept whatsoever, of what this is about.”
No concept, no idea… whatsoever…? That darn well sums up my thoughts, too!
“Frank who?” I asked.
“Frank Dazi, the descendant of Jonathan Rupp’s only child, a daughter named Ella Dazi.”
CHAPTER 14
The three of us sat at the kitchen table. I listened in awe as Marta explained the circumstances surrounding us finding her at the house that had originally been owned by Mary and Peter Templeton, foster parents of Jonathan Rupp.
“Oh, I know this seems so incredulous, but I swear on my dear husband’s grave, it is the absolute truth. I did not meet Frank Dazi until this morning. In fact, when I answered the phone, I thought it was Shannon calling back, I had just hung up the phone and was not more than three feet away when it rang, again.” Marta looked to Ozzy and then me. I know she was sizing us up, did we believe her?
“Go on,” Ozzy said.
“Well, Frank’s account of everything made sense to me. He explained who he was, said he had been referred to my telephone number by Luke Landry, who, by the way had called Frank in following up on tracing the obscure antiques dealer who never showed up for my appointment with him. Frank had a very similar experience, with this same person. Anyway, when Frank related to me this scenario and said the dealer had expressed a keen interest in items that had once belonged to Jonathan Rupp, I, of course wanted to know why the dealer would contact Frank. That was when Frank explained the family connection.”
I had to interrupt and ask, “So, Frank knew about you, all these years?”
“Oh, dear no. He hadn’t a clue. In fact, he was as suspicious of my ancestry to Jonathan Rupp as I was to his. Now, though, we have it all worked out. Thanks to Luke who assured Frank that I was the real deal.”
“And how did Luke do this?” I asked.
Marta sighed. I knew my intense questioning was bothersome to her. “Luke’s call came in right after I
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