Shamus spoke first. “Well, I checked out the name you gave me, Theresa Johnson, and found that a twenty-two-year-old, white female of the same name, residing in Ashton, Arkansas, was killed last year in a head on collision. The article I found stated she was on her way to catch a plane to New York to meet a buyer from Saks Fifth Avenue, to carry her line of women’s underwear.” Shamus looked up and met my eyes. The expression I gave him didn’t need to be voiced, keep talking motherfucker.
“Since, I knew there had to be more, I kept digging. I mean, if you have clothes to sell to someone like Saks, then you have to have storage somewhere.” He was right; I wouldn’t have thought about it. “Seems that Mrs.Johnson was also in the car when it crashed and was in the hospital for a few weeks. After several months in rehab, learning to walk again, she came home to find that no one had been paying on the storage facility where Theresa kept her clothing. I contacted the storage facility and it seems they had one of those auctions like you see on reality television. A couple by the last name of Stone runs the auction. I looked into their records and found out who purchased the storage shed in question. Records show a female by the name of, Rebecca Young, purchased the contents of the storage container. I had to really dig deep into Ms. Young’s background, but what I found was quite interesting.” Shamus slid out a file from beside him in the chair. Da handed it to me as Shamus continued. “It seems that Rebecca has quite a rap sheet; longer than Muscles, actually.” I knew it was meant to be funny, but I had no ability to laugh. “She’s been charged several times with credit card fraud and petty theft. Nothing that would make me suspicious.” Shamus pulled out another folder and, again, handed it to Da. He took a quick look and passed it to me. I opened it and was astonished at what I found.
“I checked the county registrar’s office to see if Rebecca owned any property and found that she doesn’t have any property. Her driver’s license also expired a few years ago. What I did find, however, and you can clearly see for yourself, the house that Theresa claims to live in, has been vacant for three years. The last legal owners walked away from it when the husband died. I then went to the house myself and checked, Boss, the house is completely empty.” I couldn’t believe my eyes as I continued to look at the pages in front of me. Theresa had lied about everything.
“I figured Theresa had to live somewhere, so I had Tonto stake out your house to see if she tried to return. He didn’t have to wait long until she did and knocked at your front door just after six last night. She walked around as though she was trying to find a way in, but left empty-handed. Tonto followed her downtown where she stopped at a drug store and purchased a home pregnancy test. He followed her to what we found out to be her real address.”
“Rebecca Young, aka Theresa Johnson, aka Melanie Storm, aka too many fucking names to continue, lives above the Starbucks that one of the pings to the computer system originated from.” My eyes went directly to Tonto’s. “Are you sure she lives there?”
“Yes, Boss. I paid her landlord three hundred bucks to confirm it, even showed him a picture that Shamus gave me. He said he was sure it was the lady he rents to.” I looked back to Shamus. “Is that all?” Shamus shook his head and leaned his forearms on his knees. “Not by a long shot, Boss.” Caleb stood up this time and made his way to my father’s desk that sat in the corner. He flipped open the laptop that sat on there as he began to speak. “When my father and I found out what Shamus and Tonto had discovered, I had Shamus do a little further investigating. Dad took the condom and panties and sent them to a friend of ours who owed us a favor.” I looked to Ma, who now stood behind my father, her eyes welling with tears.
“Dad suggested that since Theresa was milling around the house, she must have left something behind. He had Shamus pull up the security tapes for the last few days. Unfortunately, we found nothing unusual ... at first.” Caleb pushed a few buttons on the laptop and the flat screen on the wall came to life. There on the screen was my closet. I noticed nothing out of the ordinary. “I don’t see what you’re trying to show me.”
“We didn’t notice anything either. Then, I thought, what if Theresa planted those panties in your closet? I knew you had cameras all over the place, so I had Shamus go back three weeks.”
I, again, looked at the same screen, nothing.
“Okay, so what did we see?”
“That’s the thing, Boss, we saw three weeks of this, nothing. Not one piece of clothing moved, not one person entered or left the closet.”
That got my attention. There was an evening, not even a week ago, when I was getting ready for a meeting, Christi had come into that very closet and begun to stroke my cock. She then bent over, leaning on the center cabinet while I pounded into her, as she begged me to fuck her hard. I was late to the meeting; but that wasn’t the only thing I remembered.
“Go back to the night of Sherman’s wedding,” I instructed.Caleb moved the timeline to the appropriate spot. “Well, fuck me running.” Everyone looked at me and then to the screen. “Christi bought me a new suit. I hung it on the valet stand that’s right there in the room.”
The mahogany valet stand was completely empty.
“Just wait, Boss, there’s more.”
I looked at Caleb, who was again pressing keys. “When Christi told Nora she was expecting, she went out and bought a monitor for the baby’s room. That monitor has its own recording system.” The screen changed to Declan’s nursery and I watched as frame after frame went by. I nearly lost my breath when suddenly I saw Theresa standing in the doorway, holding the panties and what looked to be the used condom in her hand. She casually walked over to the crib and ran her fingers up and down the railing. She then looked at her watch and made her way back toward the door. She looked in both directions and then walked to the right, straight for our bedroom.
Shamus’s phone began to ring as Caleb turned off the flat screen. I couldn’t look at it anymore. I had to find Christi, show her what we found. She would have to come back to me then.
“Boss, that was my friend at NCIS crime lab.”
Before Shamus could continue, my father’s phone began to ring.I looked to Shamus as my father left the room to take the call. “That was Books.” Sherman looked back at Caleb, as he continued. “His friend at the FBI just called him.” My father chose that moment to come back into the room. “Nora, I need to see you out in the hall, please.”
I watched as Ma left the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. Da had never asked Ma to leave the room before. I didn’t like the feeling I was getting. Something was wrong, very fucking wrong. I looked back at Sherman, whose eyes were still fixed on mine.
“They’ve made an arrest within the department.”
I could hear ma crying in the hall. A sixth sense told me something had happened to Christi. I rose from the chair and began to make my way out to the hall. I opened the door and watched as Ma closed the front door.
“What the hell is going on, Da?” My father was just finishing up a phone call. I clearly heard him say, “Take care of it McIntyre!” The look on his face was of defeat and sadness. He took in a deep breath before he raised his eyes to mine.
“Patrick ...”
Matthew now stood inside the door where ma had just exited. His face was ashen and somber. “Matthew, by the look on your face, I know you’ve heard.” Matthew only nodded and looked to the floor. “Yes, Christi called me, she told me a few things. Mostly, a message to give to you.” I watched as his sad eyes shifted from my face, to Da, and back.
“She’s in labor. She says you can come to see your child being born, but ...”
My heart began to race, Declan wasn’t due for a few weeks, could this be the reason she went to see her doctor today? Had the stress of all of this caused harm to my son? Matthew put his fingers up for quotations, “ ... but ‘he better keep his whore at home’.”
CHRISTI WAS HAVING MY BABY, the thought playing over and over inside my head. This whole fucked up situation
with Theresa would have to wait. I needed to be there for the both of them. “Matthew, I’ll follow you to the hospital.” My keys were already in my hand, my mind on the quickest way to get there. “Actually, I’d like to ride with you; tell you what I know about what has happened.” I nodded my head and motioned for him to go ahead out the door. I turned back to my family, who remained behind me, looked straight into Sherman’s eyes and barked out my instructions. “You find that fucking cunt and you bring her here! I’ll deal with her once I get my family back.”
The hospital Christi and I had chosen was only fifteen minutes away. She’d even had me do several test runs to be sure I could get there on time. I’d always assumed she would be in the car beside me when it was time.
“She stayed in a hotel until her water broke a few hours ago.” Matthew’s voice sounding angry and tired—I could understand both. “Tells me she has proof you stepped out on her. Fucked some girl she’s friends with.” I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. My explanation was on the tip of my tongue, but was cut off as he continued.
“I was there when you took that oath, gave your word to every man who listened. I gave you my trust. I went to bat for you when she had convinced herself she wasn’t good enough for you. That she couldn’t be the type of woman you needed her to be. She said she would never turn a blind eye to what you did and I swore to her she wouldn’t have to.” He paused for a moment, the emotion in his voice caused me to choke up. “Your father won’t have to be the man to kill you.” His voice was now full of hatred. “I’ll kill you myself!”
The car was silent as I let him have his moment. I tried to place myself in his shoes, giving my daughter to a man with my character. Knowing me as I did, we would have never made it to the inside of this car.I would have killed the bastard for hurting my baby girl. When there were only a few minutes before we arrived at the hospital, I filled him in on everything we had learned. He sat in silence, eyes cast out the window, as the buildings of downtown Chicago continued to flash by.
“She isn’t going to listen.” He shook his head. “She has her mind fixed on being angry with you. She’s going to yell and scream at you, call you everything but a good man.”
I didn’t even look at him as I pulled into the parking garage, sliding fluidly into a parking spot. “Nothing worth having is easy, didn’t you tell me that?” I pulled my keys from the ignition and tossed my sunglasses in the center console. “She has every right to be angry; her friend just betrayed her by making her think the man she gave her heart and soul to tossed it away. But, at the end of the day, I will get her back.”
I hated hospitals. The sounds and smells reminded me too much of the days I spent at Christi’s bedside after the kidnapping—making bargain after bargain for her to return to me. Now, I had a new deal to make, a wrong to be righted. I confidently followed Matthew to the room that held my entire world. Christi was, above all, an intelligent woman who was rational and a believer in the truth. Once all the evidence was presented to her, she would feel crazy for doubting me and we could go back to being a solid unit.
Matthew knocked on the closed door, opening it slightly and poking his head in“Sweetheart?” His voice sweet and pleading, causing my nerves to return. “Did you find him?” Her tone was all wrong, clipped and full of hatred. “Was he fucking that whore of his?” Matthew glanced back in my direction, his eyes apologetic, before opening the door wide for me. Ma stood beside my wife’s bed, a plastic spoon in her hand with what appeared to be ice chips, her face covered in fear. “You!” She shouted, pointing a finger in my direction, her IV tubing dangling from her wrist. “Can stay in that corner and shut the fuck up!” Christi looked tired. Her hair that once bounced and shined, was now flat and stuck to her head. Her eyes that once danced with excitement, held nothing but pain and resentment. There was a puffy area that marred her perfect skin under her eyes. She was still beautiful, still the girl I was madly in love with.
“You don’t get to say anything, not a single word.”
I nodded my head and took a seat in the corner she indicated. I would do as she asked; give her a little time to cool off before I attempted to reason with her. Before I showed her the evidence we had against the bullshit Theresa had spewed.
Sitting in the cold, plastic chair—a tiny prison cell my wife had placed me in—I took a look about the room. Christi was reclining and appeared comfortable for the moment. Ma was now talking to her in hushed tones, telling her story after story to rid her mind of not only the pain she was trying and failing to hide, but the dire situation we found ourselves in. A heartbeat thumped in quick time, filling the room. My son’s heartbeat to be exact. I held on to that sound, the swishing of the movement as he tried to make his way into this world. His imminent appearance made all of this seem so small, so petty. When this was over and the truth was finally heard, I was going to make certain no one could damage my family like this ever again.
The tension in the room was so thick you could almost see it. Christi’s doctor came in and checked her progression. I tried to sit quietly and give her the space she needed. She was angry enough that she could have me thrown out of this room, preventing me from watching Declan’s birth. I would sit here like she asked me to or get her anything she needed, and when this was all over, I would take my family home.
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have to admit that you have reason to believe you’ve been exposed to harmful diseases?”
I looked to ma, who was reading a magazine quietly in her chair. She shook her head, letting me know to remain quiet.
“To have to buy new clothes because you’re ashamed of the ones you walked into the store with? To check into a hotel because your home isn’t your home anymore?” It was slight, but her voice cracked as she confessed how she spent the past day away from me. “Intentionally leaving a piece of jewelry in the trash because you can’t stand the lie it represents?”
I had reached my limit, listening to her voice crumble and watching the exhaustion setting into her tiny body. Just when I was about to end this, she cried out and grabbed her stomach. Ma was right beside her, encouraging her and telling her that everything was all right. Matthew had left the room, deciding his job was to remain in the waiting area, far away from the battle zone in this room.
“Christi, you need to breathe, Lass.” Ma took her hand between the both of hers. “Being this stressed and upset won’t get this baby born any faster.” Christi continued to writhe in pain. It was beyond my ability to witness and do nothing about, so I bolted out of the room and got the attention of one of the nurses in the hall.
Christ was still tossing back and forth from more pain than I thought she could ever manage. The nurse entered confidently and grabbed a pair of gloves from a drawer, pulled up the sheet that covered the lower half of my wife, and began to examine her. With one hand gripping Christi’s raised leg, her face made conflicting expressions, and then she withdrew her hand, replacing the sheet.
“Well, Mrs. Malloy, it’s time to give that little one a birthday.”
A flurry of activity began the second the nurse left the room. First, Christi’s bed was converted into a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist’s office, instead of a hospital room. The nurse who checked her a second ago, returned with a team of people. They pushed a large cart that had a plethora of tools and equipment wrapped in blue paper on it. Christi’s doctor came in wearing a drape over her clothing and plastic glasses on her face. Another nurse brought in what looked to be a space aged crib; it had light at the top and monitors on the sides. I was in awe at how they worked so fluidly together. Christi’s doctor was now sitting in a chair between her legs. Christi was draped in the same blue material that covered the tools on the tray and a nurse was insisting I put on the same drape everyone else was wearing.
“Patrick!” Christi cried. I didn’t hesitate to cross the room and stand by her side. She reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing the blood right o
ut of my fingers. It was then, as I was so close I noticed she no longer had her wedding rings on. I hoped it was just because of where she was and not because she was finished with our marriage.
“You can ...” I started, but stopped when she glared at me.
The doctors and nurses began coaching her to push and to count to ten, this went on and on. I remained silent, just holding her hand, letting her give me as much pain as she could. I would take it all if I could. I would limit it to only the physical pain labor was creating, not the mental anguish she was suffering.
I lost track of how many times we counted as Christi grew red in the face, while she struggled to push. I did the only thing she would let me, hold her hand and keep quiet. At three seventeen, Christi pushed for the final time and my son entered the world. His skin was coated in a cheese like material the doctor wiped off in a fast motion. She handed me a pair of scissors to cut the umbilical cord, releasing him from his last attachment to his mother. Another nurse whisked him away to the plastic crib with the lights. I leaned down to give my wife a kiss, tell her that I loved her, and thank her for sharing this moment with me. But her eyes were fixed on our son and as soon as she realized what I was doing, she pulled her hand away from me, shooting me death glares once again.
I didn’t have any of the evidence here with me, nothing concrete to show her all of this had been just a twisted nightmare. I moved away from the bed and as close as possible to my son. I watched with a protective eye as he was bathed and examined, his cries a sure sign he wasn’t happy with the attention he was currently receiving. I wanted to pick him up and take him solidly in my arms. I wanted to give him to his mother for her to give him the type of affection only a mother could bring. But I knew this was all for his own good, just like the medication the nurse was placing in his tiny eyes and the injection she asked Christi about earlier. It was to protect him from outside dangers. I was reminded that it was my job to protect his mother and I’d failed her, twice now. I spun my Claddagh ring and vowed to myself there wouldn’t be a third.
Claddagh and Chaos (Shamrocks #2) Page 7