SIREN'S TEARS (ALTON RHODE MYSTERIES Book 3) by Lawrence de Maria Page B

card. I told her what I wanted her to do.
    “It’s not a local area code,” she said.
    “Probably a cell. She’d be careful. Do you think you can act like a rich white woman?”
    “Be easier if I started out as a rich black woman. How about a raise?”
    “Do your best.” I thought of something. “If Rosa is cautious, we should be, too. Can you get your hands on a throwaway with a non-Staten Island area code, preferably New Jersey. I don’t want her knowing we called from here.”
    She looked at me like I had two heads.
    “Gee. Remember my brother, Leon the gangbanger? He might have a few hundred of those.” She picked up her phone and punched some numbers. “Leon. It’s Abby. I need one of your Jersey throwaways. None of your damn business. Where are you? Great.” She listened for a moment. “I didn’t mean great like that. I mean it’s convenient you’re close by. How’s it look for you? Well, that’s good, isn’t it? They gonna break for lunch? OK. I’m buying. Where do you want to go? I’ll meet you there. Thanks. Love you.”
    She looked at me.
    “He’s on trial in St. George. I’ll buy him lunch and get one of his phones.”
    “Is it serious?”
    “Assault. He says he’ll beat it. He usually does.”
    I reached in my pocket to give her some money, which she waved away.
    “It’s family,” she said.
    ***
    I called Father Zapo. No answer. Not even a message recording. I crossed my fingers and dialed the rectory.
    “Thank God,” I said when Isabella Donner answered. “It’s like hitting the lottery.”
    “What on earth are you talking about, Mr. Rhode?”
    I was momentarily pleased that she remembered my voice, until I realized the rectory phone probably had caller ID.
    “I don’t think I could survive another bout with Miss Bulger.”
    That great laugh again.
    “You are terrible. What can I do for you?”
    “I’m trying to reach Father Zapo. He’s not answering his cell.”
    I heard an exasperated sigh.
    “I’m not surprised. Even if he doesn’t leave it in his room, he often forgets to turn it on, or he lets the battery run down. But I think I can reach him. He’s got a doctor’s appointment and I have that number. Is it important?”
    “Yes. I have to talk to him and I’d like to take him to lunch.”
    She said she’d call me right back if she caught him before he left the doctor’s. And she did.
    “He’ll be back here by noon and would love to have lunch with you, Mr. Rhode.” She laughed. “He just loves the Sleepy Hollow Inn in Pleasant Plains. Do you know it?”
    “I do. And please call me Alton.”
    “Only if you call me Bella. All my friends do.”
    “Done. Tell me, Bella, is it just a checkup?”
    She hesitated.
    “He hasn’t been feeling well. It’s the cigarettes. But he won’t listen. He really hasn’t been himself lately. He seems to be under some kind of stress.”
    I wondered if Isabella Donner knew more than she was saying. She had, after all, copied the materials that Zapo had given me.
    “I’ll pick him up outside the rectory.”
    “Oh, that’s so nice of you, Alton.”
    ***
    When I pulled up, Father Zapo was standing at the curb with a young, attractive woman. She held the door for him and after shutting it leaned in the window.
    “Don’t let him have more than one martini, Alton,” she said.
    Isabella Donner looked as good as she sounded on the phone.
    “I have to find you a husband, Bella,” the priest said, “so you will have someone else to nag.”
    She winked at me.
    “Be my guest, Father. But go easy at lunch.”
    As I drove away, I said, “Pretty lady. I’m surprised she’s not married. Was she ever?”
    “I don’t believe so,” Father Zapo said. “But she’s still fairly young. Mid 30’s I would guess.”
    “Perhaps she’s not the marrying type,” I said delicately.
    “I know what you mean. But Bella likes men.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “I’m a man, aren’t I? I can tell. I may be 80, but I’m not