Promises to Keep

by Kathryn Shay

  “Nobody you need to concern yourself with.”

  She stood, wandered to the window, then to the sideboard. Luke let her go because he knew the squirt wouldn’t rest until she satisfied her curiosity. She bent over to smell the flowers. “These are pretty. I like—” Her gaze dropped to the photos. She frowned. Picked one up. “Um, Luke, I’ve seen this lady before.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She looked up from the picture and turned it around to face him. The photo was of Suzanna and Brenda, arms linked, smiling at the camera.

  “I’ve seen her before.”

  “Yeah, baby, you have. Just now, in the kitchen.”

  “No, Lukasz, not the blonde. The other one.”

  o0o

  Still stunned, Suzanna sat in the front seat of Joe’s sedan as they drove to Brenda’s. Luke sprawled in the back, staring pensively out the window. A heavy fog of tension filled the air.

  I don’t believe it, Suzanna had told Joe and Luke when she’d listened to Elizabeita’s story about seeing Brenda in the restaurant.

  I have a bad feeling about this, Joe had said. Somebody downloaded Josie’s picture off the Internet and it was found in a Connecticut diner this past week. Then Luke’s sister recognizes Brenda from a diner in Queens. Are you sure you haven’t suspected anything, Suzanna?

  No, of course not. What do you expect she’s doing, anyway?

  She’s a newspaper reporter, Luke had said. She could use this in a number of ways. And who’s Josie?

  I’ll explain in the car. We’re going to Brenda’s now. Kelsey can stay with your sister...

  Listening to Josie’s tragic story on the trip over, Suzanna’s heart broke at his roughly uttered words. It was worse than hearing the details the first time, because now she loved this man, heard the nuances of his sorrow, and felt his pain deeply. All she could think to do was grasp his arm gently in silent support.

  When Joe finished, Luke settled his hand on Joe’s shoulder. I’m sorry. Now I can see why all this is so vital to you.

  They swerved into the driveway of Brenda’s condo. Luke and Joe bolted out of the car in seconds. Suzanna hurried up the walkway behind them.

  Joe was already ringing the bell when she caught up. He and Luke flanked the door.

  No one answered the bell.

  Luke nodded to the left. “That’s her car, right?”

  “Yes.” Suzanna’s mouth was dry with worry.

  “Does she date? Would she be out with someone?”

  “I don’t know. Kelsey and I are her close friends. Other than some people in New York.”

  Luke scowled. “New York?” He punched the bell this time.

  “She worked for the Times. She quit four years ago.”

  “She was fired for drinking, Suzanna.” Joe’s voice was grave. “And screwing up a story.”

  “What?”

  Joe stared at her. “I had her investigated after she recognized me.”

  “The New York Times?” Luke said. “She could sell them an exposé on us.”

  “No, I don’t believe she’d do that.”

  Running a hand through his hair, Joe scowled. “She’s not answering.”

  “I’m worried.” Suzanna thought for a second. “I have a key.”

  “Use it.” This from Luke.

  “We can’t just walk in.”

  Joe grasped her arms. “Sweetheart, if she is here and not answering, something could be wrong. And if she’s innocent, she’s got nothing to hide. Open the door.”

  After a moment, Suzanna inserted the key in the lock. Joe and Luke led the way in. “Where would she be?”

  “She likes the view from the den in the back.”

  They found Brenda there.

  Sprawled on the couch.

  Passed out.

  “Oh, no, she’s ill.”

  Joe and Luke stood back as Suzanna rushed to her friend. As she squatted down, her knee knocked something. She picked it up. It was a bottle of vodka. An empty bottle.

  Luke followed her and knelt down. He lifted Brenda’s wrist, then let it fall back limply. “She’s drunk. You can’t smell it on her because it’s vodka, but I’ve seen my share of people passed out.”

  “I didn’t know she had a drinking problem,” Suzanna said.

  Gently placing his hand on Suzanna’s arm, Luke drew her up. “I’m sorry, Suzanna.”

  When she turned around, Suzanna saw Joe approach the desk. He stared at the notes spread across the surface, then at the computer screen. The machine was on. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered, and dropped onto the chair, as if he needed support.

  Suzanna and Luke crossed to him.

  Joe went to the beginning of the document.

  It said, Notes for Under Cover/Above the Law.

  Suzanna read the title and gasped.

  “It’s about our operation,” Luke said tightly.

  Joe scrolled down. They read over his shoulder: Section I: The Stark Statistics: school shootings in America. Brenda’s notes summarized the past shootings and the findings of the various agencies.

  The room was deathly quiet, except for the hum of the computer and a soft snore from Brenda. Farther down. Section 2: The Precipitating Event: Josie Callahan was an honor student...

  “Oh, God,” Joe said simply. “Ruthie, the kids, Al...” He looked up at Suzanna. “She knows it all.”

  Suzanna’s hand gripped his shoulder and she leaned into him. “Joe, I’m so sorry.”

  He turned back to the computer. They read on.

  Section 3: The Plan of Action: Modern...school...typical problems...High school principal Suzanna Quinn...

  Joe said, “Goddamned son of a bitch.” He reached up and covered Suzanna’s hand with his.

  She froze as she read on.

  Carson’s victimization. His disgrace. His suicide.

  It couldn’t be. Suzanna didn’t believe what was before her in black and white.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?” Joe had risen and circled his arm around her.

  “I never told her any of this. How does she know?” She grabbed onto Joe. “What is she going to do with this?”

  He drew her close. “Use it for an article.”

  Luke had taken Joe’s place at the computer. “More like a book,” he said scrolling though. “We’re in here, Joe.”

  They turned back to the screen. Section 4: Enter Starsky and Hutch. “Who the hell are they?” Luke asked, and on the heels of that, “Jesus Christ! She got my transcript and file from high school? And...” This time Luke stilled, his hands hovering above the keyboard.

  Joe bent over for a closer look. “What the hell...your father...”

  Suzanna read, too.

  “I let him down,” Luke said, clearing his throat. “How could she know about that? What I felt about him?”

  Placing his hand on Luke’s shoulder this time, Joe squeezed tightly, then moved away and began to pace. Suzanna turned and watched him. His agent mask was in place, but his body vibrated with anger. She was about to speak when Luke said, “Holy Mother of God.”

  “What now?” Joe whirled around.

  “You’d better come and read this.” Luke’s voice was strangely gentle.

  “I don’t want to read any more.”

  “You have to see this, Joe.”

  Joe crossed to him. Luke got up. “Sit down.”

  At the ominous tone, Joe sat. Luke stood behind him with Suzanna, and they all focused on the screen.

  It read, Section 5: The Juicy Details: All four adults—paired up. “Sex and the Secret Service”...the pièce de résistance: the commune where little Joe and Ruthie were brought up.

  The letters began to squirm as Suzanna read further. Commune...parents...sex at an early age...rites of passage...escaped when fourteen...does Al Callahan know? She remembered Joe’s words when she saw Webster’s website.

  Horrible things happen to young boys.

  Suzanna’s stomach turned sour. She couldn’
t begin to fathom what the story before her meant in real terms, the horror the man she loved had gone through. “Joe,” she said simply, and her hand joined Luke’s on his shoulder. They flanked him, as if to protect him somehow from this obscenity.

  He was deathly still, staring at the screen. Then he threw back his chair, stood, and, in one violent motion, swept the monitor and computer off Brenda’s desk. The equipment crashed to the floor. The sound of glass shattering was deafening. Electrical sparks sizzled out.

  From the couch, Suzanna heard a slurred, “What the hell?”

  Brenda had roused at the noise.

  Joe whirled around and stalked to her. “Do you have any idea what revealing this information would do to my sister? To her kids and husband?”

  Sitting now, Brenda just stared up at him, bleary-eyed.

  He bent over and grabbed her shoulders. “And to Suzanna? Nobody knows about her father. She doesn’t want anybody to know about him.” He shook her hard. “And what gives you the right to toy with Luke’s psyche?”

  Luke flew across the room and grabbed Joe’s arm. “Joe, don’t. She’s not worth it.”

  Joe’s fingers bit into Brenda so that she cried out. “What kind of a fucking monster are you?”

  “Joe,” Luke said harshly, “this isn’t you. Let her go.”

  Finally Joe stepped back. Suzanna saw that his face was pale and he was shaking. He stared at Luke as if he didn’t recognize him. Luke didn’t release his arm. After a moment, Joe shrugged him off, turned, and strode out of the room.

  Suzanna said, “Go after him, Luke. I have some business to take care of here.”

  When Luke left, too, Suzanna crossed her arms over her chest and stared hard at the woman who had been her best friend for more than twenty years. “You’ll have to explain this to me, Brenda. You’ll have to tell me how you could even consider using that man’s horrific suffering, Luke’s insecurities, and my father’s godforsaken life to promote your career.” She gave her a scathing look. “Have you really turned into Benedict Arnold?”

  o0o

  Brenda stared at the carnage before her—the computer in a broken heap on the floor, the desk chair upended, the empty vodka bottle. The stench of stale tobacco stung her nostrils; worse was the look of disappointment on Suzanna’s face. Brenda remembered a statement one of the counselors in rehab had made: You’ll know when you’ve hit bottom.

  Brenda knew.

  Not letting her shrink from it, Suzanna crossed the room to stand in front of her. “I asked you a question, Brenda. I’d like an answer.” The anger and confusion in Suzanna’s tone, Brenda could deal with. The hurt and betrayal on her face were harder to take. Was Brenda being a Benedict Arnold?

  “I have reasons.” Though right now, the liquor’s haze made her thoughts fuzzy. She could see the rationale, like the snowy picture on a TV screen, but it wouldn’t come into focus. “I need some coffee. And a cigarette.”

  Bending over, Suzanna scooped up the bottle and held it out. “You’re an alcoholic.”

  She thought of a thousand excuses—the ones she’d been giving herself since she came back to Fairholm and started drinking again. “I am.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. I would have stood by you when you got help from professionals.”

  “I went to rehab. After I lost the Times job.”

  Suzanna cocked her head. “You said you were on a cross-country trip. I thought it was odd. You were gone for what...two months?”

  “Sixty-five days.” Brenda stood, and the world wavered. Suzanna became a blur of green and yellow. “I need some coffee.”

  Her friend didn’t offer to fix it for her. Mother hen was mad at her little chick.

  “Fuck it,” Brenda said, and headed to the kitchen.

  Suzanna followed her. At least she let Brenda get the coffee on, though it took several tries; grounds spilled from the tablespoon every time she transferred them to the pot.

  Then Suzanna asked, “Do you have any idea how many lives you’ll endanger, how many teenagers will die, if you stop the Secret Service’s operation?”

  Turning around, Brenda anchored her hands on the edge of the counter. Her slacks and sweater were wrinkled, and her mouth felt like day-old fuzz. She studied Suzanna; even overwrought, the woman was fresh as a spring flower. “Joe Stonehouse has gotten to you, Suzanna. What you’re saying is pretty melodramatic.”

  “Is it? Do you know what they’ve accomplished already, not just in my school, but in the others they’ve targeted?”

  “No, they wouldn’t share that with me,” she said bitterly.

  “Couldn’t find it in your research? Along with what happened to Josie, and how Joe and Ruth were raised? With Luke’s problems with his father? Weren’t there any juicy details like the two agents sleeping with the women of Fairholm—which, by the way, isn’t true about Kelsey and Luke.” Suzanna’s color heightened. “In addition to the danger you’ll put schoolchildren in, do you have any idea how many other lives you’ll ruin by this tawdry exposé?”

  Brenda turned back to the coffee, mostly to avoid Suzanna’s blistering gaze. “Stop overdramatizing this.” Jittery, she poured coffee; it sloshed over her hand, and she winced. Then she turned around. She took several sips of the hot brew, and it began to clear the fog in her brain.

  Suzanna said, “I don’t believe you can do this.”

  “You don’t know me, Suzanna.”

  “How can you say that? I’ve been your best friend since we were twenty years old.”

  Feeling even more shaky, Brenda crossed to the table and sat down. “But you don’t know the real me. Who I am now, at least.”

  Suzanna poured coffee for herself; when she faced Brenda, her expression was anguished. “I know you well enough to believe you can’t live with the knowledge that you prevented Joe and his agency from stopping kids who bring guns to school.” Her voice cracked. “Brend, Josh could have been a victim if Joe and Luke weren’t here. You love him like a son.”

  “I don’t believe they’re doing that much good.”

  “You don’t want to believe it. But, in any case, think about the other lives you’ll ruin. The story of Joe and Ruth’s upbringing made public could destroy his sister and her two kids. And Kelsey will never teach again if it becomes public knowledge in a national best-selling book that she was involved with a boy she thought was a student. Luke’s career and Joe’s could be over if their undercover operation is exposed. That job is Joe’s life.”

  “What about my life? This story is my way back to the top of journalism. With a book like this published, I could work at any newspaper in the country.”

  “At what cost?”

  “Conrad always said that freedom of the press often hurts people,” Brenda tossed back angrily.

  “Would Conrad agree with your plans?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s a lie. If you do this obscene thing, at least admit that you’re sacrificing your integrity. Conrad was for freedom of speech, not destroying people. He loved you like a daughter and taught you better than this. If he was alive, he’d be ashamed of you.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “No. It’s what you need to hear.” Suzanna strode to her, sat down at the table, and took her hand. “I’m not going to stand by and let you make this mistake, hurt all these people, without fighting to stop you.” She squeezed Brenda’s fingers. “I know you, Brend. I know the real you. Inside, you’ll never be able to handle this. It will eat at you. You’ll spend your life drinking and smoking and partying to forget.”

  “You’re just saying that to convince me not to hurt Joe.”

  “I love Joe. But I love you, too. I’d do anything to protect both of you.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Please don’t do this to yourself. To Joe and his family. To Luke and Kelsey. To all those kids the Secret Service can help.”

  “What about you? What about the stuff on your father?”

  Suzanna
swallowed hard. “I don’t care if you use that. I’ll give you all the details—an insider’s story. Maybe you can write an article or something without including the Secret Service project. But please don’t shut down STAT.” Her voice broke off. “You’re better than this, Brenda. I know you are.”

  Brenda just shook her head.

  Suzanna stood then. “I’m leaving. For what it’s worth, I have faith in you. I don’t think you’ll go through with this.”

  Brenda heard Suzanna in the foyer, heard the door open and close. Tapping out a cigarette from the pack on the table, she brought it to her lips. It took three tries to get the lighter to work, two more to get the cigarette lit. As she inhaled the smoke, her nerves began to soothe. Several streams curled in the air like a lazy fog.

  Suzanna was wrong about her.

  But for one brief minute, she wished like hell she was the woman Suzanna thought she was.

  o0o

  Joe’s house on Milburn Avenue was dark when Suzanna pulled up to it; she’d driven over in her own car after she’d called Luke from outside of Brenda’s to come and get her.

  Luke had been like a panther ready to spring when he’d picked her up; Kelsey said he’d been prowling the house, not talking to her or Elizabeita, who was waiting for one of her sisters come out and take her back to Queens. Joe had called in, said he was at home, and asked not to be disturbed unless they needed him.

  Afraid Joe might refuse to answer the door, she’d gotten Luke’s keys and let herself into their house. The formerly cozy rooms were cold and lifeless. She made her way back to Joe’s den. She’d just approached the doorway, and was able to make out his silhouette, when he leaped off the chair and crouched before her. He held his gun trained on her.

  “Joe, it’s me, Suzanna.”

  His body sagged. He sank back into the chair and said, “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to creep up on a government agent?”

  Determined, she stepped farther into the room and switched on a small light. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt me.”