Sometimes, Laurence just liked to talk in circles. “Are we done with this?” Peyton asked, unnerved by the conversation. Marino had hurt him. He wasn’t sure of the details, exactly, but he knew not to go there.
“I’d like to know more about this so-called detainment. This cop, Marino. What was he like?”
No, Peyton didn’t want to go there. He turned away from Laurence and let himself steal a look at her. He wasn’t supposed to stare at his angel; Saunders had warned him that if he did anything that pissed her off, she’d be out of there. But she was shifting in her seat, crossing her legs, and he figured he could get away sliding his eyes that way. One brown boot twitched in the air.
Nice boots. They were suede, the really soft kind that thrills your hand when you touch it. So soft you could rest your face on that boot and just fall asleep.
“I’m over here, man,” Laurence prodded, rising from his chair and taking a step toward Peyton. “Tell me about this cop. This Marino.”
“I told you, he stole my walking stick, the only thing I had to my name.” Peyton could see it rolling awkwardly on the dirty tiles of the subway platform. “He stole it, and broke it in half.”
Something clattered in the corridor behind Laurence. Light gushed in through the barred door, a river of light blocked by the lawyer’s square bulk.
Peyton’s eyes flared, his pulse skipping uncomfortably in his throat at the sight. He gasped as the man stood over him, his bulk silhouetted by the light behind him.
And suddenly it was him standing over him, his eyes gleaming malice as he reared back, the sharp broken stick gripped in his hands.
“No!” Peyton’s hands flew up to his face. He meant to duck, but the motion made him slip from the chair. Landing on his knees, he hunkered down, waiting for the crushing impact.
“What the—”
“Oh, my God,” the angel spoke in the distance.
But their voices were far from Peyton, who huddled in a tight mass, waiting for the pain. “Don’t kill me!”
“Who?” The lawyer’s voice was calm. “Who is going to kill you?”
His hands trembled on his head as Peyton searched the face on the hulking man who stood poised, ready to strike. They were on the playground, people gathered around and it was ...
“Marino! Marino’s beating me.” His whole body was shaking now, enmeshed in the horrible memory. “Marino’s got my walking stick whittled down sharp, and he’s stabbing me with it. Got me in the shoulder.” He gasped as phantom pain penetrated that tender spot.
He choked on a sob as he heard the voice.
Don’t tell, or I’ll kill you.
Chapter 48
“Hot damn!” Laurence snapped his fingers as the heavy door of Sing Sing Prison closed behind them. “Took us awhile, but I believe we finally got something worthwhile from Peyton Curtis.”
“You’re kidding me.” It was hard to breathe around the dense weight that had fallen on Bernie’s chest when Curtis first mentioned her brother-in-law’s name. She had hoped Laurence would dismiss the Marino story as some sort of wild hallucination, but she couldn’t be so lucky. “The accusation has holes in it,” she said as they walked through the cordoned-off area to their hired car.
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that the wound in Curtis’s shoulder was caused by a bullet. Specifically a bullet from Indigo Hilson’s gun.”
He turned toward the parking lot. “There’s that.”
“And think of the chronology. Marino and his partner brought Peyton in the first night he arrived back in New York. That was a Sunday night, Monday morning. Yvonne Curtis didn’t notice anything amiss until days later—Wednesday afternoon. In fact, she and Peyton were rousted by that warrant squad Tuesday night, and no one was aware that Peyton was injured then. He didn’t get hurt until some time Wednesday.”
Laurence growled, rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Maybe Marino came back and got him with the stick Wednesday?”
Bernie shook her head. “A stick with a bullet on the tip? Come on, Laurence. You can’t argue with hard evidence.”
“You’re right. And I appreciate your recall of the facts. Bonus points on your timeline, Bernadette. But something happened between our client and Marino. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.” He pointed to the black car, waiting beside a taxi line by the curb. “Or didn’t you find Curtis’s story convincing?”
Bernie considered the question as she got into the car. “His story was bone-chilling. Absolutely horrifying. And he was utterly convincing.” She pulled the door shut. “But, still ...”
“Still, what? You’re not a believer?”
“The details don’t match up. I’m beginning to wonder if the psychiatric evaluation missed something. Maybe there’s more going on here than amnesia.”
“Like ... ?”
“Schizophrenia? Borderline personality disorder?”
“And this is based on, what? Your experience in Psych 101?”
“Don’t be that way, Laurence. I’m sorry if it disappoints you, but Curtis’s story is flawed. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it morphs into something else on the stand.”
“Oh, I don’t know that we’ll ever put Peyton Curtis on the stand,” he said, moving a finger over the screen of his iPad.
“Then how can you make the story count?”
“I’m getting it out right now.”
“Oh, God.” She blew out a sigh. “Doesn’t that violate attorney-client privilege?”
“The information I’m going to release doesn’t incriminate our client in any way. Watch and learn. We’ll shake the bushes, see what comes hopping out.” He held the phone to his ear and spoke to his assistant. “Asia, see what kind of media contacts you can round up in the next two hours. I need to do a press conference on the Curtis case. No, it doesn’t have to be a lot of reporters. Just a few key media people.”
As he went over a few other details with Asia, Bernie sank down into the seat and tried to consider what this would mean for Tony ... and for Mary Kate. There would probably be an investigation, and if Tony had assaulted Peyton Curtis, he would be punished. If the assault was true, Tony deserved whatever punishment the courts threw at him.
She just didn’t like the inconsistencies. And if Curtis’s memory was incorrect, if Tony Marino’s name was cleared, who was responsible for the stress and fear the complaint would arouse?
“Asia’s running with it. I’m going to share some of this alarming news with a few reporters before the end of the day. With any luck, we’ll make it to the evening news.”
“Laurence.” Bernie pressed fingers to her temple, hoping to massage away a blossoming headache. “There’s something you should know about Tony Marino.”
One eyebrow arched over his thick glasses. “Say what?”
“The cop, Anthony Marino? He’s my brother-in-law.”
“What the—” He let out a snort. “Bernadette, are you related to every officer in the NYPD?”
“Seems that way.”
“This makes things messy.” Laurence tapped his phone against his thigh, as if he could shake out an answer.
“To complicate things further, I think I was working intake when Tony brought Peyton Curtis in. I don’t remember all the details, but Tony wanted the arrest to stick so much, he came into the DA’s office to lobby for it. Curtis had refused to give his name, so he was just listed as a John Doe. The DA who caught the case was willing to arraign Curtis, but then the fingerprint results came back, fast. They identified Curtis, who had refused to give us his name. He had just been released from that upstate prison, so he was cleared and released.”
“Mmm. Did Curtis look beat-up to you?”
“I never saw him. Neither did Keesh, the ADA on his case. He wouldn’t have laid eyes on him until arraignment.”
Laurence leaned back in the seat and let out a sigh. “And I had to go and hire an attorney from the DA’s office. I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you.”
“Yes, but it makes it just about impossible for me to keep you on my staff. You know I have to pursue this, and chances are it won’t look good for Marino.”
“I know.”
“Damn. And I was just getting used to having you as my shadow.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
“This is all too close for comfort. I’ll accept your resignation when we get back to the office.”
Bernie nodded, sharing his disappointment and wondering how she’d managed to lose two jobs in less than a month.
Chapter 49
“Would you like a toothbrush?” Mary Kate asked, sliding open the deep drawer of her desk.
“Sure.” Standing under the door frame of the examining room, Craig Schiavone seemed taller than she remembered.
“How about a blue brush ... and mint floss?”
“Perfect. Thanks, MK.”
He had called her MK. She didn’t think he had remembered her nickname.
“You’ve made this dreaded process relatively painless.”
“Thanks, I guess.” She laughed, enjoying the moment. “But you’re not alone. Somehow, the dentist’s office is not on the top of most people’s fun list.”
He left the corridor and swung ’round to peer through the pass-through. “I could make an appointment for six months, but that’s too far to plan ahead.”
“True.” From this close his deep blue eyes reminded her of the morning glories that climbed her back fence, that vibrant color you wanted to capture though it was impossible to hold. “We can send you a reminder card.”
“Okay. In the meantime, I’d love to get together someday if you’ve got the time. Maybe for coffee or brunch?”
He was asking her out. A real date!
“I’d like that. It would be great to have a chance to really catch up. To see what you’ve been up to these past few years.”
“You’ll get to hear about all the headaches of starting up a sports accessory company.” He was scrolling through the calendar on his phone. “Great stuff. It’s not too late to back out now.”
“I’m a good listener,” she said with confidence that surprised her. Where had this self-assurance come from? She’d always considered herself to be a competent mom, but when it came to dating, Tony was the one with all the pizzazz.
They agreed on a date and time, and then he lingered, chatting until the next customer came in.
“I’ll let you get to work.” He held up a hand. “Take care, MK. See you soon.”
“Take care,” she called after him. It was no problem waiting for old Mr. Finnegan to hobble into the examining room. When he was settled, she was so energized she just about skipped back to her desk.
She had a real date. She didn’t know what would come of it, but it felt good to know someone was interested.
The outside door opened and Mary Kate looked up curiously. She wasn’t expecting another patient yet.
“Bernie?” Her sister was wired up so tight, Mary Kate left her desk and went into the waiting room. “What are you doing here? Dental emergency?”
Bernie gave her that pained smile; Bernie so rarely let loose with an unconditional, wholehearted grin. “I need to talk to you, MK.”
“Is it Dad?” Mary Kate felt a stab of fear. “I know he’s been in such a funk these past few weeks.”
“He’s hurting, I know.” Bernie slipped off her coat and tossed it onto a chair. “But I’m here to talk about you.”
“Oh. Okay. Have a seat.”
Bernie sat, while Mary Kate lingered over the coffee table, straightening magazines and fanning them out decoratively.
“I’ve been avoiding the house,” Bernie admitted. “So I haven’t seen you lately. If you don’t mind me asking, how are things going between you and Tony?”
MK shoved a wrinkled copy of People magazine under the stack. “He moved in with his mother. You remember Gina? She lives in one of those marble Italianate row houses off Horace Harding. That house has been in their family for fifty years. I hear it’s kind of run-down now, but it’s a free roof over his head. I met with this lady who does mediation. It’s like a cheap divorce lawyer, when it’s not contested or anything. Tony and I both have to meet with her to divide things up and make financial arrangements for the kids. But it looks like it’s going to happen.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Honestly? I’m relieved. I’ve got a good life, Bernie. Good kids. A nice house. Tony was the one person bringing me down. He wasn’t into it anymore. It’s better, now that I’ve accepted it.”
“You’re doing great. I’m so proud of you. It’s got to be tough sometimes.”
Mary Kate waved her off. “I got a thick skin. I was worried about the kids at first, but they don’t seem fazed when we talk about divorce. In fact, when Erin was home from college she told me it was about time I wised up to her dad. You know, I sort of feel sorry for him now ... but not enough to let him move back home.”
Bernie reached over and squeezed Mary Kate’s wrist. “I’m so happy things are working out for you. Really. I guess you know I was never a huge fan of Tony’s.”
“Yeah, and you weren’t alone. He’s one of those guys, either you love him or you hate him.”
“Oh, yeah.” Bernie withdrew her hand and stared down at the display of magazines. “That’s the real reason I came tonight. I ... legally, I’m forbidden to talk about what my client told me. But ...” She winced. “I really can’t ... but I have to.”
“Don’t get yourself in trouble on account of me,” Mary Kate said. “And really, the less I hear about that Peyton Curtis, the better. It’s all really painful for me.”
“I understand.” Bernie bit her lower lip.
Such a bad habit for oral hygiene. Mary Kate wanted to give her a free sample of lip balm and ask her to stop.
“It’s going to be in the news tomorrow,” Bernie said. “He is.”
“Curtis? He’s always in the news.”
Bernie shook her head and pointed at MK.
“He ...” She looked over her shoulder. “Dr. Parsons?”
“No ... Tony.” Her voice was low.
“In the papers and everything?” Generally, Tony sucked up publicity. “And it’s bad?”
“It’s not good, and I don’t even know when it’s going to break. Maybe the word is out already on tonight’s evening news. Maybe it won’t break until tomorrow.”
Mary Kate’s spirits sank. She didn’t wish Tony any ill. “Will he lose his job? That’d kill him.”
“I don’t think it’s that extreme, but it doesn’t cast a positive light.”
Mary Kate took a breath and held it. “If he can keep his job, he’ll recover.” She looked over at her sister and gave her a shove. “You had me really worried. But now you’ve got me all curious. What happened?”
Bernie groaned, raking her hair back with one hand. “No, no! I can’t divulge!”
“Just give me a hint.” A sudden pang tore through Mary Kate’s chest. “It’s not about a woman, is it?”
Bernie waved off the question. “No, nothing like that.”
Thank God. She was getting over Tony, but she didn’t want the kids to suffer humiliation over their father’s antics. “There has to be some part of it that’s legal for you to tell me.”
“I wonder ...” Bernie pressed a finger to her lips. “I could tell you what happened when I was with the DA’s office. Okay, let me just tell you what I knew before I met with Peyton Curtis as a client. Tony picked up a guy one night. He fit the profile of that serial rapist in the Manhattan subways? Anyway, Keesh was the DA doing intake that night. He told them to release Curtis. There wasn’t really much of a case, but Tony persisted. He thought there was a gold shield in it for him if he nabbed the rapist. Before Curtis could even be arraigned, we got word back that he had just been released from a prison upstate. There was no way he could have committ
ed those rapes.”
“Okay.” Mary Kate ran her hand over the edge of the coffee table. “So Tony arrested this Curtis, but then let him go.”
“Right. But Curtis was pissed. Understandably. He steps off the bus from prison, then gets arrested for no good reason.”
“I can imagine that wasn’t so good.” Mary Kate had never seen her husband in action as a cop, but she imagined that he wasn’t so nice to the people he considered to be the “criminal element,” as he put it. “Pardon my French, but Tony can be a real prick when he’s on a power trip.”
Bernie nodded. “From what Curtis says, it was not pleasant. Somewhere in the process of transport or arrest, Tony started bragging about Dad’s shop. Curtis thought it belonged to Marino’s father, but he understood enough to know it mattered to Tony. That morning, when he went into the precinct, he was looking to shoot Tony. It was a simple act of revenge. When finding Tony proved more difficult than he could handle, he turned, saw Sully’s Cup, and decided that a shoot-out in Dad’s coffee shop would be the next best thing.”
“Oh, my God. You’re telling me Tony was the instigator? He got this Curtis guy so mad that he started shooting cops?”
“Looks that way right now.”
“That’s sickening.”
“Whether or not it’s true, the story is going to break tonight or tomorrow. I just didn’t want you to get broadsided.”
Mary Kate nodded. “That’s the kind of thing that makes me lose sleep at night. You and I find it haunting. Tony? It won’t bother him. As long as he can keep his job and spin things his way, it won’t bother him at all. He’ll sleep like a baby.”
Chapter 50
“You know, everyone deals with grief in different ways,” Mary Kate said as she slowed to stop at a light. “Some people say I’m heartless because I keep pushing on. But I know myself. I can’t let sadness stop me, because if I stop, I’m afraid I’ll never get going again.”
“I try to escape through work, too,” Bernie said. “I think most New Yorkers are workaholics. Maybe that’s Dad’s issue. He’s retired from the job, and without Sully’s Cup he’s got nowhere to go.”
The Daughter She Used To Be Page 27