by LS Sygnet
“All right. We already know this, David,” I said.
“How does one achieve employee of the quarter or year?” he asked.
“It’s a popularity contest,” I scorned the award not so secretly. “It doesn’t make her the most dedicated or competent employee.”
“True enough.”
“In fact, there are plenty of people who wouldn’t have a kind bone in their body if something wasn’t in it for them in the end. I saw plenty of nurses like that when I performed my residency at UCLA.”
“The world is full of selfish individuals. That aside, does Florence strike you as one of them?”
“I think the only happiness Florence has ever known in her life is caring for babies,” I said. “So how does that parlay into being the beloved co-worker and shining beacon at Saint Mary’s Hospital?”
“She volunteered to work a lot of extra shifts over the years, Helen. We’re talking tons of them. In fact, according to her employment record, some of the comments from her co-workers when she was nominated for awards included those indicating that Florence never said no when someone was in a jam and needed her to cover a shift.”
My skeleton suddenly pulled out of its slouch in the chair. “So maybe Sherman wanted her readily available, on call for the hospital even, should Celeste Datello go into labor early.”
“How could she have guessed something like that would happen?” it was Devlin’s jaded opinion this time. “I mean, it was her first kid. Aren’t they notoriously late and not early?”
“Stress,” I rasped. One hand involuntarily cradled my belly. “She was under an enormous amount of stress after Danny was arrested. That and all the delays, the approaching trial, the threat that was issued just a couple of days before… oh my God. They wanted her to have that baby sooner than later.”
“Now you’re thinking like the girl I know,” David said. “So Eugene bites the dust. Melissa can’t deal with ferrying Florence back and forth between Darkwater and Montgomery. She decides she wants the Datello baby, either because she really did experience a stillbirth or it was her plan to snatch somebody’s baby anyway. She comes up with the special order from Mr. Sherman and delivers it personally. She camps out a babysitter to make sure that Florence toes the line. Hell, it wouldn’t matter to someone as abused as Florence was if Holmes knew the truth or not. Florence believed that Sarah Holmes was Ms. Sherman’s best friend. That was enough to keep her in line.”
“Did you talk to Florence?” I asked.
“For the better part of the afternoon,” David said. “You nailed it, my dear. This woman doesn’t have a will of her own, and even if she did, I doubt she’d recognize it. By the way, what did Johnny do that terrified her so badly? She caught a glimpse of him this afternoon and I thought the poor woman would soil herself.”
“He demanded to know why Mr. Sherman was so excited when he found out I relocated to Darkwater Bay,” I said.
“That is disturbing. I wish I’d known she said that when I talked to her this afternoon, Helen.”
“I think the mystery is solved. Connect the dots, David. When I showed up in town, Jerry Lowe wanted me here. I’m not sure why, and doubt I ever will. At one point, I thought he wanted to match wits. Then I thought he wanted me dead.”
“He did, my dear. We’re fortunate he failed.”
“He chose to fail, David. He had me drugged on his sofa. He could’ve taken my head as another trophy and nobody could’ve stopped him.”
“It doesn’t explain why Sherman would be pleased that you were here,” he said.
“Excited doesn’t mean pleased. He tried to pressure Joe into making sure that Lowe served his sentence at Dunhaven, which ironically, he is anyway. When Joe didn’t go along, Sherman was pissed off enough to start donating money to Datello’s pick, Terrell Sanderfield. I realize that my presumption sounds a bit grandiose, but I suspect that they weren’t so happy to have me around after Jerry Lowe was arrested. If Sherman was involved in human trafficking through Darkwater Bay, it makes sense that he wanted the status quo in force around here.”
“Perhaps,” David peered at me in a way I couldn’t recall seeing before. I’d seen that look on his face many times in the past, but never directed at me. Usually it was reserved for the person of interest he was profiling.
I squirmed under the scrutiny. “What?”
“Hmm, nothing,” he said.
I slapped one hand on the table. “I’m starved. What sounds good for dinner? Dev, be a dear and call Crevan. I’d love it if he could join us tonight.”
David’s eyes narrowed. Recognition flashed in his eyes. I’d seen that look before too, same context. I waited until Devlin left the room.
“Spill it. Why were you profiling me?”
“I wasn’t –”
“Don’t lie to me. You gave me that dissection look. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Johnny and I went to see someone this morning before we went to OSI, Helen. When you mentioned Crevan, it made me think of it.”
“Oh really? Just who did you go visit?”
“Aidan Conall.”
“Shit. Johnny promised me he wouldn’t confront him about that mess while we still had this human trafficking thing on the table.”
“He’s convinced that the abduction of the Conall baby could be related. Who knows how long this thing has been operating in Darkwater Bay, Helen?”
“I was under the impression that the city didn’t take a morality dive into the cesspool until Jerry Lowe took over as chief of detectives at Central Division sixteen years ago.”
“True enough, but back in the 1970’s, it was a lot easier to steal children, Helen. There was no such thing as an Amber Alert. Hell we didn’t even have ViCAP, AFIS or CODIS back then, let alone an agency devoted to missing and exploited children. You know that.”
“So what did Mr. Conall say?”
“Very little. Kathleen was far more forthcoming. She said they made the decision to tell Crevan when he was much older, out of fear that he’d find out when he decided to become a police officer. It was Aidan’s decision to lie about the gender of the child. I’m certain by that point, he suspected his son’s emerging sexual orientation, thought maybe the idea of a masculine brother might make him toe the line so to speak.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“He is an angry, desperate man. He burst into tears when Johnny told him he knew the truth about their daughter. He cursed and ranted that he had lived a life devoted to God, didn’t deserve the pain and suffering he’d endured in his life. Then he told us to mind our own business and leave the past dead and buried where it belonged.”
“Poor Aiden suffered more than Job,” I muttered my disgust for Crevan’s father.
“Bravo, Helen. I wished at more than one point that you’d accompanied us this morning. Things are strained already, aren’t they?”
My eyes connected with David’s quickly. “No.”
“Helen…”
“He hates Devlin.”
“And Devlin loves you. I suspect it’s an emotion not necessarily unrequited by you. Different context,” he added quickly at my angry stare. “Helen, Johnny is utterly miserable today. Why don’t you simply explain to him that you love your friend much like you love me, or Crevan or even that old dinosaur Chris Darnell? He’ll understand it.”
“No,” I said, “he won’t. I tried. All he sees is that Devlin made a move on turf he couldn’t even remember was his. It’s been this way since he lost his memory and saw Dev and I together on New Year’s Eve.”
I scooted away from the table, drifted to the refrigerator and stared inside for dinner. Answers to the universe’s most perplexing questions maybe. A warm hand rested on my shoulder. “As I recall, he was similarly jealous of our relationship at one point, Helen, until he realized that I had merely evolved into something of a surrogate father figure.”
“I don’t think of you that way.”
&nb
sp; He pried me out of the fridge and turned me to face him. “Well, then forgive me for this, but I always think of you as the daughter I never had. I love you too, Helen. Not the way Johnny does, but there are many kinds of love. I know what Devlin Mackenzie gives you that you don’t get from anyone else. He simply believes you’re right. Always.”
My chin dipped to my chest.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily. Blind faith is something we’d all love to have. Just because Devlin has it and Johnny doesn’t, well, sweetheart, it doesn’t mean that Johnny wouldn’t do anything for you, even if he disagrees with you. Devlin sees a tiny part of who you are. Johnny knows the whole thing. He loves you in spite of the things that maybe aren’t quite so perfect.”
Little moons of moisture soaked into the front of my sweater.
“You know I’m right.”
“Yeah,” I sniffled softly.
“So explain it to Johnny. He needs to know that you love him in a way that you’ve never loved anyone else in your life.”
“Maybe if he’d stop avoiding me for five minutes and listen, I could.”
David reached for the phone hanging on the wall. “Call him. Tell him that you understand he’s busy, but you really want and need your husband at home with you for dinner tonight.”
“Joe’s upset about this Sanderfield thing, and I’ve already –”
“He’s not working on a single thing that couldn’t wait a couple of hours, Helen. Call him and ask him to come home for dinner. Don’t let this thing fester and drive a wedge between you. Especially not now.”
I took the receiver in hand and reached for the touchtone keypad.
Chapter 36
Johnny rushed through the garage door with eagerness in his eyes – until he saw the assembled crowd. Devlin. Crevan. David. His shoulders squared. “I didn’t expect to find all of you over here tonight. Are we having an impromptu meeting about the case and I was invited as an afterthought?”
Crevan piped up with an ever-diplomatic response. The man was truly the polar opposite of me. When I bristled, he soothed.
“Of course not, Johnny. I think you’re wife is just eager to close this case so she can have all her evenings quiet and alone with her husband.”
Johnny’s eyebrows did the wolf dance, but he didn’t respond.
David nudged my arm. Silent direction. Go greet your husband.
I drifted across the gulf separating us and wrapped my arms around him. “I made pot roast. Are you hungry?”
A stiff kiss followed.
“Long way to drive for dinner.”
“I thought we could talk later,” my voice dropped close to a whisper.
“Before you go out with him?”
“Before we interview a potential victim in this case.” Simmering started below the surface.
“And this is a conversation you feel you need backup for, or are they merely witnesses to what an unreasonable bastard I’m being?”
“Johnny please. I love you.”
“You love everybody.” He sidestepped me and went toward the butler’s pantry. A moment later, Johnny reappeared with a bottle of Glenlivet. “Am I the only one who could use a stiff drink after the week we’ve had?”
I slipped out of the room with David on my heels.
“Get back in there and talk to him, Helen.”
“I tried. He won’t be satisfied with anything I say.” More molten tears dripped from my chin. “Maybe I should remind him that since we haven’t actually consummated our marriage yet, he could get it annulled.”
“Helen, you’re being utterly ridiculous now. And what do you mean –”
“He left me alone, in a guest room in Joe’s stupid mausoleum last night,” I hissed. “Are you happy now? Do you get it, David? This isn’t some little scrape that needs a kiss and a Band-Aid. Johnny is that angry with me.”
“Oh dear,” he sighed. “Well, let’s make the best of it. Maybe he’ll settle down over dinner and realize that you’re not pining away for another man.”
“Maybe I should be,” I muttered.
“Don’t do anything rash. If you love him –”
“I do love him. It’s not my fault he can’t see that, David.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the tears from my cheeks. “Let’s go have dinner. Try to keep the conversation neutral. Perhaps, as grotesque as this sounds, it’s better to simply discuss the horrors of human trafficking over our meal. Yes?”
I agreed and followed him back to the kitchen where we dined at a very terse table. The case discussion was awkward. Johnny was sullen, drinking more Glenlivet than eating the meal. His responses were snorts, grunts and single syllables. There was no question in anyone’s mind that he was beyond angry by the end of the meal.
And the alcohol only fueled his mood.
The most he said in a single statement was a remark when I passed on a glass of wine with dinner.
“Now that is truly a shocking development.”
Fortunately, it was muttered low enough for my ears only. It was a direct hit. Food was like chewing broken glass. Everything hit my stomach in the form of toxic acid. Half way through dinner, I quickly excused myself and hurried to the bathroom. Every morsel came up with bitterness and heartache mingled with it.
There was no soft soothing accompanying my bout of morning sickness after dark, no cool compress to the back of my neck. It was me, the porcelain goddess and overwhelming sadness.
By the time I got back to the table, Johnny was on the phone across the room.
“Asking for her specifically, huh?” he cast a cold glance in my direction. “Well that comes as no great shock, Tim. I scared the wits out of the poor thing the other day. She’s got some sort of date with a potential witness tonight in another thing we’re working on. I’m not sure she’ll be able to get over there until tomorrow.”
“Johnny?”
He waved me aside. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He clicked off the phone.
“They were moving Payette from the shower back to her isolated cell and something happened. She flipped out and started asking for you and only you,” he said.
“I should go right away. It could be important –”
“You’ve got your thing with Detective Mackenzie,” Johnny cut me off. “It’ll wait until morning.”
David approached cautiously. “Johnny, did something happen? Ms. Payette asked for Helen again?”
“Yeah, but it’ll wait. She’s not going anywhere. Helen’s got other plans for her night.”
My lips rolled inward.
“How about a compromise. I developed a fairly good rapport with Florence this afternoon. What say after dinner the two of us head over to OSI together and I’ll talk to her?”
Johnny shrugged. “Suit yourself. She specifically asked for Miss Helen.”
“Perhaps it would be better if Crevan took me out there and you went with Devlin and Helen to meet this girl Fantasia,” David suggested.
Johnny’s grin chilled me to the bone. David took a step backward.
“I wasn’t invited, David. You’ll come to OSI with me if you really think Payette’s sudden desire to talk can’t wait for morning. Are you done with dinner? I’m ready to head back. I’ll probably be there later than you’ll want to stay. I guess I could send you back in one of OSI’s cars.”
“Enterprise delivered my rental this afternoon,” David said. “But you’re not driving in this condition, Johnny. I’ll find something to do while you work.”
I heard his molars grinding beneath the ticking muscle of Johnny’s jaw, but he didn’t argue. After a frustrated beat, “Suit yourself. Let’s go.”
His parting shot was directed at Devlin. “Your old pal from Montgomery was out at OSI looking for you Mackenzie. They told him you were working with my wife tonight. Might want to turn your cell phone on so he can find you. Unless of course, you don’t want the interruption.”
Johnny and David were barely out
the door when Crevan slipped into peacemaker mode again.
“You should go get this interview done right away, Helen. Get your head back in the case. I’ll clean up here and head over to OSI and talk some sense into him.”
I couldn’t stop crying. Wisely, Devlin didn’t ask for a translation of what transpired between the lines over dinner. Or maybe he already suspected why Johnny was so angry with me. Hadn’t he warned me that dinner at the house was a bad idea?
Some sort of unspoken communication passed between them, but Devlin didn’t argue. He grabbed a box of tissues from the bathroom off the mudroom and steered me back into the garage.
“I’ll drive.”
I pressed the keys into his hand and drifted around to the passenger side of the Expedition. We made it to the end of the driveway before the inquisition began.
“Helen, what the hell is going on?”
I sniffled, opted for a handful of tissues and blew hard.
“That’s not an answer.”
“He’s angry.”
“Well no shit Sherlock. Is this because I showed up for dinner tonight, or is he still on the rampage because you wanted to do this thing with the hooker with me instead of him tonight?”
I buried my face in my hands and shed a little more emotion. If it weren’t for the pregnancy, I’d be fighting back, making Johnny’s anger look reasonable and pale in comparison to mine. But no. That’s not how things were now. I was this sniveling wreck, a wimpy sap who couldn’t pull it together for two seconds of a well-deserved counterattack.
“Helen, you’re really starting to scare me. What’s wrong? Jesus, why would Crevan think it’s a good idea to send you out on the job in this condition? I’m taking you back home.”
“No, don’t!” I rasped. “Please. I’m sorry, Dev. I’ll pull myself together. Just give me a few minutes. All right?”