A Secret To Tell You. Roz Fox Denny

opened the back door and stuffed Norma in, all while babbling that the chauffeur should get moving now.

      The two vehicles passed as Eric swung into April’s lane and the old six-passenger Lincoln shot out onto the two-lane county road.

      Eric vaulted from his car, leaving his door hanging and his engine running. He dashed up to April, and grabbed her arm. “Dammit all, did you just give Santini’s mother those letters? You lied last night when you said you didn’t have them here. You know I want them, and I was willing to pay.”

      From her seat in the back of the Lincoln, Norma Santini craned her neck to see the reporter. She saw him grabbing April. Tapping Joseph’s shoulder, she said, “Slow down please, Joseph. I think that man’s up to mischief.” The words had barely left her lips when Norma saw April plant her thick-soled work boot squarely on the reporter’s instep. He let go of her and hopped around rubbing his foot. April went into the house and slammed the door.

      “Never mind, Joseph. Ms. Trent has taken care of the problem. I’m so glad I came to see her.” Settling into her seat again, Norma indulged in a satisfied smile. “April puts me in mind of myself at her age. Oh, I wish she hadn’t gotten off on the wrong foot with Quinn. Wouldn’t they make a grand pair? Did I mention she’s dropping by the house this afternoon, Joseph? I wonder if I could persuade her to stay for dinner,” she murmured.

      The chauffeur, who’d been with Norma since well before her husband’s death, threw her a glance in the rearview mirror—a glance that warned her she should proceed with caution in that particular matter.

      

      True to her word, April collected the letters from Robyn, who said, “I got your frantic message. What’s the big mystery, April? Why are Eric Lathrop and his boss so interested in those letters? By the way, did I tell you I’m redecorating his boss’s home? Even his witless wife brought up the letters. She pumped me about how well I knew you and asked whether I thought you’d give Eric or her husband the information they want. What information?”

      April opened her briefcase and dropped the letters on top of the brick mason’s bid. “Robyn, in about half an hour, it’s going to be a moot point. I’m on my way to Mrs. Santini’s place now to give her back her letters.” She groaned. “Considering how much trouble they’ve been, I wish I’d never found them.” Briefly, April filled her friend in on Eric’s latest attempt to get the letters.

      “So I take it you’re not going to Quinn Santini’s fund-raising ball with Eric? He apparently told his boss you were.”

      “My brother gave him some tickets. But no, I won’t be attending anything with Eric. He’s toast as far as I’m concerned.”

      “Good. You can do better. But I hoped we could go shopping for dresses. I feel a shopping attack hovering,” Robyn said with a wink as April prepared to leave her shop.

      “I’ll tag along. I love watching you shell out money, Robyn.” They arranged an afternoon to meet for lunch and shopping.

      

      There were two men working on the Santini front gate when April tried to turn into the drive. “Norma Santini’s expecting me,” she said after rolling down her window.

      The workmen weren’t very trusting. One phoned the house and received an okay before letting April pass.

      Norma met her at the door. “You came! All day I’ve worried that you’d change your mind.”

      April extracted the bundle and placed it in Norma’s outstretched hands. “You’re welcome to these. My advice—burn them.”

      The older woman clasped the letters as if they were precious jewels. “Won’t you come in?” she said. “I’d love to have you stay for dinner, my dear.”

      “Thank you, but I can’t. I have just about enough daylight left to dig holes for my light poles. The mason said if I get them set, he’ll work in bricking around them next week.” She tripped lightly down the steps and waved as she got into her pickup.

      Driving out the gate where the men were still working, she passed Quinn Santini’s Lexus. “Phew, that was a close call.” In the rearview mirror, she watched him turn through the gate. April felt a surge of relief at declining Norma’s dinner invitation.

      

      Back at the house, Norma settled in her favorite chair to begin reading her precious letters for the first time in almost sixty years. She’d reached the end of the first letter when her front door flew open and her grandson burst inside. Sniffling, Norma fumbled for a tissue and attempted to hide the letters in the folds of her skirt.

      “Gram, tell me what that Trent woman said to upset you. I passed her headed out. My gut said I should stop her—that she was up to no good.” Quinn jerked up the white phone that matched the room’s decor. “This time I will press charges. It was those damned letters, wasn’t it? Did she come to shake you down for more money? I won’t allow her to barge in here and make you cry.”

      “Quinn, hush. She brought me the letters and wouldn’t take a cent. Please, calm down and sit with me. Joseph and Ethel have taken Hayley to her gymnastics class, so you and I have time to talk.”

      “About what? Those letters?” He saw them now and eyed her with a scowl.

      “In a way.” Her fingers plucked idly at the faded red ribbon. “I have a secret to tell you, Quinn. One that’s burdened my heart for much too long.”

      Chapter 4

      “A secret? That sounds ominous, Gram.” Quinn slumped down on the chintz love seat and draped one arm over the padded armrest, his eyes still on his grandmother.

      “I wouldn’t say ominous, exactly.” All the same Norma shuffled the letters nervously. “Your grandfather extracted a promise from me that we’d carry this secret to our graves. He did. But since these letters went missing, a lot has changed. There are things you don’t know that you should.”

      Quinn sat forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “You’d better tell me, then. Especially if there’s stuff that could turn up in the campaign…”

      Her eyes shifted to the envelopes fluttering in her hands. Without fanfare, Norma dove into her story at the same point where she’d begun reminiscing at April’s. Reaching the spot she’d halted before, Norma hesitated only a few seconds before plunging on. “I never viewed anything I did overseas as a lark, Quinn, even though a significant part of our jobs involved mingling with the patrons at popular night spots. We were expected to keep our ears open and pick up what we could in the way of usable information. By usable I mean anything with the potential to help our fighting forces. Whatever we gathered was coded the next morning and sent via teletype or by hand delivery to male agents in the field. Messages came back the same way. Often we were asked to see a particular man again, usually an officer. Or we were dispatched to dig up more information somewhere else.”

      “I can’t believe it—yesterday I was joking you’d been a spy, like Dietrich and Child,” Quinn stammered. “And now I find out you were.”

      “I’m sure it sounds preposterous.” Norma paused when he got up suddenly and poured them each a bracing shot of brandy. He swirled it in the two snifters, then handed her one. She took a sip, letting him return to his seat before she went on.

      “One day there was a change in my routine that disrupted the entire focus of my mission. Tony, your grandfather, whom I knew only as Kestrel, a man I hadn’t laid eyes on since my training days, awakened me in my apartment late one night. With him was a four-star general whose name I recognized and actually recalled seeing at one of my father’s weekend gatherings. Kestrel and the general gave me official orders to travel by train from Marseilles to the town of Colmar, near the German border. My task—cozy up to a German officer who’d flirted with me twice at a local café. I had, of course, reported those encounters and our conversations. My first reaction was that I must be dreaming, but no, I wasn’t, and those