Keeping Secrets

by Cathi Stoler

  “She’s not here, Santangelo,” Mike said. We don’t know where she is.”

  Chapter 51

  Friday, 9:36 p.m.

  David Adams pressed the gun into Helen’s back as he led her toward a building on the corner of Crosby and Broome. The cold, steel muzzle dug sharply into her, and her mind searched feverishly for a way to escape. Across the street, L’Orange Bleu restaurant was filled with patrons laughing, eating, and enjoying the evening. Helen kept glancing over, hoping someone, anyone, would notice her and see she needed help.

  “Don’t even think about it,” David Adams whispered in her ear, jabbing her harder, “or you’ll be toast.” She knew he’d kill her without hesitation. She heard him laugh then, in an eerily high-pitched tone. “Toast. Isn’t that what the kids all say?” He laughed again, enjoying his little joke. “Over. Done. Finito.”

  Helen was beyond scared. Every time she thought she might be able to disarm him, he seemed to sense it and shoved the gun deeper into her back. He hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. He probably wouldn’t until she told him what he wanted to know. “Where are you taking me?” Helen twisted to glance back at him. “Look, can’t we stop and talk about things?”

  “Don’t be pathetic. I expect more of you.” He pushed her forward. “Anyway, we’re here.” His tone was menacing.

  Here was a net-shrouded building Helen had noticed from across the street. Unlit, unwatched, and unobservable from the rest of the block, it was the perfect place to take her. The kind of building site New Yorkers passed without noticing unless they were looking for a place to kill someone. He must have spotted it while I was in the restaurant and realized no one would bother us. She shuddered. The idea of being held captive in this building made her skin crawl. Okay, Helen. Now what? How do I get out of the clutches of this madman? Helen searched her brain for clues to his craziness, anything she could use. He was a megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur. Everything she knew about him pointed to that. Was there some way she could turn his aberration to her advantage?

  “Right this way, madam.” He shoved her up against the side of the boarded-up building. Looking right and then left, he kicked hard at the padlocked board that served as the construction site’s temporary doorway. The old wood gave way easily and he shoved the door inward. Grabbing Helen by the shoulder with one hand and pressing the gun against her with the other, he propelled her into the dark space and kicked the makeshift door closed behind him.

  Helen struggled to remain calm and tried to get her bearings. They were in an open, unfinished space on the ground floor of the building. One safety light up near the high ceiling provided scant illumination, casting the concrete support pillars around its edges into deep shadows. In the process of renovation like the rest of the building, the area was being used as a storeroom and was filled with stacked wooden planks, cement bags and buckets, tools and construction equipment. Helen scanned the objects strewn about, searching for something, anything she could use as a weapon.

  Adams smiled at her and pushed her down onto an overturned drum of tar so that she was seated facing him. She wadded her shawl in her lap as she sat. He stood a few feet away, the gleaming silver gun he held tantalizingly out of reach. “So, Helen, you wanted to talk. Well, here’s your chance. Talk to me. I’ve got all the time in the world.” He waved the pistol in the air. “I’m not so sure about you.”

  His words made Helen’s blood run cold. She swallowed back the bile filling her throat and looked at her captor. Play to his weakness. Get him to talk about how smart he thinks he is. She sighed, as if giving in, and smiled up at him with resignation. “Okay, David, you win. Although, I think you probably know as much as I do by now. Don’t you?”

  “I’d like to hear your version of events from start to finish. Let’s begin with the part about how Laurel Imperiole nearly messed up the biggest deal of my life. It’ll help me figure out how to pay her back when I catch up with her.”

  Oh my God. A shiver of fear ran through her and sweat gathered between her breasts. He’s already forgotten about killing Anne. It’s messing up the deal with the Santucci family that’s really gotten under his skin and he thinks he can still salvage it.

  Helen decided to go for broke. “Well then, let me get right to it.” Her loathing for him was obvious in her voice. “It wasn’t Laurel who was responsible. It was her boyfriend, Matt Kuhn, the lawyer for Santucci.” Adams stared at her. She had his full attention. “Oh, didn’t you know Matt and Laurel dated? It’s one of those quirky coincidences—you and Anne, Matt and Laurel.” He’ll never know how quirky. “Anyway, you know how it is. They were in bed. He was being the big man, bragging to her about how he was getting ready to scam some ass-wipe wannabe who thought he’d make a killing by screwing some suckers out of their life savings and offering the mob an ATM deal they couldn’t pass up.” Helen gave Adams a defiant look. “He was talking about you. You’re the real sucker, so I’d say your deal is more than nearly messed up, wouldn’t you? Laurel probably wouldn’t have bothered about it at all, but killing Anne was just too much. You really screwed up with that.”

  “You bitch,” Adams screamed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face turned red and his breathing quickened. “I’m gonna do this deal. Only, you won’t be around to see it.” He started toward her, closing the short distance. Aiming the Walther PPK at her chest, he began to pull the slide back. “Time to say bye bye, Helen.”

  She wasn’t giving up without a fight. It was now or never. Muscles tensing in her sweat-soaked body, she used the split second before the gun’s slide ratcheted back to fling her shawl at him. At the same time, she dove to her right and hit the floor. A shot rang out. She scrambled away, trying to regain her footing. In the silence that followed, she gulped air into her lungs. She wasn’t bleeding and hadn’t been hit. She was confused. Adams started to fall forward, blood spurting from a small, neat hole in his temple. As his body doubled over, a figure emerged from the shadows on the far side of the room, revolver in hand. Adams’ lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

  “Aaron?” Helen’s face broke into a shaky grin. “Now that’s what I like to see—a man with a smoking gun.” Then she fainted.

  Chapter 52

  Saturday, 10:00 a.m.

  Laurel stared into the bathroom mirror. Red-rimmed eyes stared back from a face as pale as alabaster. She’d cried all night and sleep hadn’t come until dawn. Leaning over the sink, she lifted her hands and rubbed her tear-stained face, trying to scrub away the horror of what happened. It was no use. Images from last night played across the insides of her lids like a flickering silent movie.

  When she, Mike, and Joe left the restaurant, they planned to search the neighborhood for Helen. According to Joe, she’d been in the bistro. He dropped her off on Broadway because of the traffic and she walked the rest of the way.

  “I thought I saw her. If she was there, why didn’t she join us?” asked Laurel. “Why leave?”

  “I wish I knew,” Joe said.

  Joe wouldn’t look at her when he answered and she sensed there was more to the story. Why was Joe dressed in a chauffeur’s uniform? What is he not telling us about tonight? The crowd on the street finally thinned out. Laurel, Mike, and Joe scanned the faces of the people they passed as they walked along, hoping to find some connection to Helen.

  “What’s going on over there?” Mike gestured toward the next corner, where a group of police cars with flashing lights were haphazardly gathered.

  “Shit.” Joe ran toward the commotion. Laurel and Mike, startled by his behavior, followed quickly behind.

  Joe reached the corner and identified himself to the officer guarding the perimeter of the scene. He whispered a few words in his ear and was allowed past the yellow crime scene tape.

  “Joe!” Laurel called out. “Wait! What is it? Where are you going?” He shook his head at her as if to say, “Not now,” and disappeared inside the building.

  Laurel was crazy with fe
ar. She wanted to know what had happened and if it had something to do with Helen. She tried to push past the officer on duty, but he politely held her back. Mike paced beside her, a worried look on his face. For now, frustrating as it was, all they could do was wait.

  After what seemed like hours but was in fact only a few minutes, Helen and Aaron emerged from the building looking pale and drawn. Joe followed behind. Laurel gave a little cry and, ignoring the policeman who stopped her earlier, ran under the tape toward the group.

  Helen slowly walked to meet her. She hugged the younger woman and whispered in her ear, “It’s all over. He’s dead.”

  Laurel was thunderstruck. “Dead? Matt?” She thought that when he left the restaurant he’d somehow encountered Helen.

  “No, not Matt. David Adams.” Helen took Laurel’s hand and gestured to Mike, who’d joined them. “Let’s go over there,” she said and pointed to a police car across the way, “and I’ll explain.” Helen told them Adams accosted her outside Provence Sud and forced her to go with him at gunpoint. She guessed that after seeing her at Laurel’s house last night, he had been following her ever since. He was looking for Laurel as well and was incensed over the way their interference blew his deal with the Santucci family.

  “I still don’t understand why you left the restaurant?” Laurel looked at Helen expectantly. “And why was Aaron here?”

  Joe and Aaron joined the group. Joe stepped up and took Helen’s arm. “That’s enough for now. I think Helen needs to go home.” He checked with Aaron. “Okay with you?”

  Aaron nodded his agreement and Helen said goodnight to everyone. She approached Mike, whose face expressed a mixture of puzzlement and anger while she relayed her story. “I’m sorry we ruined your birthday.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Then she was gone.

  Laurel’s dad seemed at a loss for words for once. Probably a good thing. Laurel saw both hurt and confusion in his eyes as Helen departed.

  The medical examiner’s team removed the body from the building. Aaron stepped in front of Laurel, his ice-cold eyes boring into hers. “It’s time for everyone to go home.” There was no mistaking his intent as he ushered her and Mike farther away from the scene. “Mr. Imperiole, I need to speak with Laurel for a few minutes. I’ll make sure she gets home.”

  Mike’s head swiveled from the detective to his daughter, confusion flitting across his face. “Okay Aaron. I’m sure you will.” He turned to Laurel and kissed her. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Wait here.” Aaron took Laurel’s arm and led her to a police cruiser across the street. “I have to finish up. Then we’ll talk.”

  Laurel imagined because he shot and killed someone, he had to be vetted by the brass shifting their feet and throwing looks in their direction.

  When he was done, he returned to where he left her. “You didn’t listen to a thing I said, did you?” His voice was low and harsh, with fury bubbling just below the surface.

  “You followed me, didn’t you?” she threw back at him, her own anger erupting. “You didn’t trust me.”

  “Trust you? How could I? You lied to me again. You never cancelled dinner. You and Helen didn’t tell me everything. You met with Kuhn, even though you said you wouldn’t!”

  “I, I …” Laurel’s hands raised in supplication. Nothing she could say would change the way he felt.

  Laurel realized her plan had been misguided, but she had been so consumed by her rage at David Adams and his treatment of Anne that she hadn’t thought it through. She only had herself to blame if Aaron walked away forever. And right now, it appeared as if he would do just that.

  “I should have listened to my instincts last time and never spoken to you again. Well, I won’t make that mistake again.” He beckoned to the patrolman standing a few feet away. “Officer, please drive Ms. Imperiole home.” Then he turned and left her there without a backward glance.

  Now, standing in front of her mirror, Laurel was getting ready to go to Helen’s. She’d called earlier this morning and asked Laurel to come to her house. She wouldn’t blame Helen for being angry, either. There were a few things she needed to discuss. It was a matter of trust, Helen had said. Well I can relate to that.

  Chapter 53

  Saturday, 2:35 P.M.

  Helen was in the kitchen pouring herself a mug of coffee. Her guests had just departed and she sat at the table and looked out the window, reflecting on all that occurred over the last week. What a week it was! Nearly run over, breaking and entering, threatened by the mob and almost shot. Gee, Helen, did you have to pack all that excitement into a few short days? Couldn’t you have stretched out the fun? She took a long sip of the steaming coffee and pulled out her notebook, which lay open on the counter, close by.

  Helen began to write in her steady, even hand. The case was over and once she finished today’s entry, she’d type a summary on her computer and file it away. She wouldn’t be sending it to her client. There was no way she could bill Laurel or the magazine for her work. It had all gotten way too personal for that. This report was for herself—a record to be saved and remembered.

  This morning she went to the Thirteenth Precinct to file an official report of the shooting. Aaron arrived while she was there and let her sit in while he spoke with Detective Norm Schnall in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, who could now officially close the Anne Ellsworth homicide.

  The color had returned to her cheeks and her body was none the worse from its ordeal, but Helen was worn out mentally and physically. However, everyone involved in the Suave Sal/Matt Kuhn/David Adams business needed and deserved an explanation. So she called them and asked that they all meet at her house. Helen wanted to set the record straight, especially with Aaron. His following her after she left the restaurant had saved her life, after all. Thank God he had noticed when she went outside to look for Joe and saw Adams accost her. She also wanted to speak with Laurel, who didn’t yet know the full extent of Matt’s involvement.

  Laurel was the first to arrive, giving Helen a hug as if grateful to see her alive and well. The second she let go, she burst into tears and told Helen that Aaron had left her for good.

  Helen wasn’t entirely surprised. He hadn’t mentioned Laurel when she was at the station. Not once, though he had agreed to come to her meeting. This is going to be interesting, she thought.

  “I’ve made such a mess of things.” Laurel shook her head. “You were almost killed. Aaron is gone, and Matt’s disappeared. I—”

  “Stop right now. David Adams was a heartless, evil bastard. He would have tried to kill you as well as me if he’d been able to get his hands on you. We screwed up his plans. He had to blame someone, anyone but himself. Let’s be grateful he’s dead. He won’t be able to hurt any more women and the state won’t have to pay for his housing and food for the next thirty years.” She put her hand on Laurel’s shoulder. “And as for Aaron, maybe he just needs time to forgive you.” At least, I hope so.

  A few minutes later, Mike Imperiole and Joe Santangelo arrived at the same time. Great. Helen watched the two men size each other up once more. Here we go again. I’m definitely going to have to do something about this. She rolled her eyes at them. “Hi, boys. C’mon in.”

  They were followed by John Dimitri, who nodded at Laurel, Mike, and Joe. Helen felt that since the magazine was involved, he should be present, as well.

  Aaron Gerrard arrived last, looking tired but functioning in full detective mode. Their conversation at the station had centered on the shooting and she had slipped out while he wrapped up his report. His superiors at the scene deemed it a clean shoot and there would be no repercussions. Helen knew there were many more details about the rest of the case he wanted to know that she’d have to provide. Helen took his hand and squeezed it. “Everyone’s in the study.” She hoped he realized Laurel would be here as he followed her in.

  They joined the others. Aaron went to stand as far as possible from Laurel, who sat opposite he
r father in one of the armchairs and stared at the floor. Joe, a smug look on his face, took the chair from behind Helen’s desk and brought it around front. John sat on the small sofa under the window, patiently taking it all in with that slightly superior manner of his.

  Looking at their expectant faces, Helen perched on the edge of her desk, facing them, and began to speak.

  She started with her surveillance of the Three Aces club and ended with the death of David Adams the previous night. Speaking directly to Aaron and then to Laurel, she told them about going down to SoHo and seeing Matt Kuhn on the street. She explained about breaking into Matt Kuhn’s loft, finding the hidden room and the DVD that connected him to Sal Santucci, and her subsequent investigation, which proved he was his nephew. She related how Suave Sal threatened her and how Joe found a solution—the city’s Madison Square Park hidden camera footage—that enabled her to hand over the DVD she’d stolen and still stop the ATM deal from going forward. The rest they knew: Sal Santucci’s arrest, which had been all over the papers this morning, David Adams’ death, and Matt’s disappearance.

  When she finished, there was a moment of silence, then a chorus of voices asked questions and made comments.

  “I knew you were holding out on me.” Aaron pointed his finger at her. “I’m going to need to know more about your escapade in the loft.”

  “This is going to make a spectacular story. Don’t you think so?” John looked over at Laurel, apparently saw the pain in her eyes, and softened his voice, “Good work. Really. It’s something our readers need to know.”

  “Why did you tell me there was no danger?” Mike said. “Damn it. You were almost killed and he was looking for Laurel.” He shook his head. “Madonna.” He chomped hard on the unlit cigar he placed in his mouth.

  “Santucci’s going to be out of commission for quite a while,” added Joe with pride. “The Attorney General’s office has exactly what they need. The film, plus testimony from the inside guy they were bribing, and Ralphie, made the case.”