Sins of the Father

by LS Sygnet

  My running days were apparently over. I pulled all of them out and tossed them in the trash. If I threw the wig away and had a change of clothes handy, I could stroll out of the bathroom and Johnny would never recognize me.

  If, if, if. I had nothing, and my luck, he’d be standing at the door waiting for me. Since there was no one else in the bathroom, the finality of my situation sank into my bones a little deeper. I was trapped, and from Johnny’s point of view, every bit as owned as Andy Gillette claimed. The only dim saving grace was that I knew deep in my heart that no matter how angry Johnny was, how much his love had eroded into hate, he would never abuse me the way my intended owner planned. There would be no forced service of any kind.

  I stepped out of the bathroom into an empty vestibule. So much for my instincts. Johnny was waiting in the car. In the seat between us was the bounty from the vending machines inside the rest stop. My eyes welled with tears again.

  “I figured if I didn’t start thinking in advance, that would be your next gripe. I’m trying to starve you to death. C’mon, Helen. Get in. It’s time to go.”

  Yanking the kindness out of his gesture worked wonders at drying the moisture that threatened to spill. I slid into the seat and fastened my seatbelt. Johnny’s hand reached for something in the cup holder. He unscrewed a cap and poked the bottle under my nose.

  “No shakes. Strawberry Yoo-hoo was the best I could do.”

  Scratch that. The tears leapt from my eyes, practically squirted out onto the dashboard. This must be what it feels like to develop Stockholm Syndrome. The fear from nothing but hate and threats was eroded by one minuscule act of kindness.

  I took the plastic bottle in hand and kept my chin tucked low. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me crying again. Never again. Never again. My heart pounded out the new mantra.

  Rustling sounds came from my left. A moment later, Johnny’s handkerchief dropped into my lap. I surreptitiously dried my eyes and wiped my nose, and then started digging through the pile of junk food. Twinkie-like cakes, potato chips, oatmeal cookies, greasy chocolate coated mini-donuts, little bags of peanuts, some trail mix. Good grief, he must’ve cleaned them out. I ate, drank both bottles of Yoo-hoo, held my tongue until the lines on the highway hypnotized eyelids into closing.

  The car jerked to a halt.

  “Get in the back seat and lay down. I’m sick of hearing your head smack against the window. God knows, if you show up at home looking damaged, it’ll kill our cover story.”

  I crawled into the back seat, curled up into a ball and promptly fell sound asleep again.

  Johnny woke me twice at gas stations before we reached our final destination. He apparently left Joe’s jet parked in Newark. Had he ever planned to take me to Washington to talk to the FBI? I started wondering if he hurled lies at me in some twisted version of revenge.

  His fingers manacled my bicep. Johnny crowded my back all the way up the stairs into the jet.

  “Good to see you, Dr. Eriksson,” the copilot gave me a weak smile.

  I probably had muddy rivers on my face again.

  “Thank him,” Johnny hissed in my ear.

  “Thank you. It’s nice to see you too.”

  “Go lay down,” Johnny said tersely. “You obviously need more sleep.”

  I made a pit stop in the bathroom and peed, washed my face again. When I came into the cabin, Johnny was sitting as far away as possible from the bench where he directed me to sleep. Oddly, it seemed like a good sign. He didn’t want to be in close proximity to me any more than I wanted him hovering over me.

  After we were in the air, I unbuckled my seatbelt and curled up in a ball, face toward the bench and tried to go back to sleep. A feeling of deep unease rippled through me in waves. This was bad, very horrifically bad.

  Sure, I wanted to buy more time for Dad when I walked away from him, but the truth of the matter is, I wasn’t sure I could step over the threshold of that plane, whether Johnny was chasing me or not. It made sense to do it. Obviously, turning around and going home to my husband was fraught with peril of a different kind. Emotional warfare.

  Dad’s words wormed their way through my head. I had to be sure. Go to him now. Had to be sure of what? He acted like Johnny’s presence came as no real surprise.

  My forehead furrowed in deep concentration. Settle down, Helen. Think. Maybe he didn’t look surprised because he knew Johnny would never stop looking for me. But had to be sure? What the hell had he meant? Sure that I love my husband? Sure that I really planned to help him escape? Shooting a vial full of succinylcholine into his vein was a pretty big leap of faith if he had doubts about my commitment to the plan.

  “Go to sleep, Helen.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew I was wide awake, mind racing. But it did. It never stopped surprising me.

  I didn’t respond. Laid perfectly still and pretended sleep. Soon enough, it was reality.

  It felt like mere minutes when he nudged my shoulder. “Wake up. We’re going to land in about half an hour. Are you hungry?”

  Always. I pulled myself up and rubbed my eyes. My joints ached. Some how, I managed to sleep several times without moving a single muscle. My hand flew to the unsecured wig. Speaking of miraculous, it wasn’t on sideways.

  Johnny returned with croissants full of creamy chicken salad, crunchy walnuts, onions and celery, with sides of apple slices and carrot sticks. The junk food binge was apparently over.

  He tossed the tray onto the table. “Get over here and eat.”

  I tucked my chin to my chest and did as I was told, not because I had magically woke imbued with a deep vein of obedience. I was simply hungry.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “What do you have?”

  “Ginger ale.”

  Why that made me feel like crying, I don’t know. Denial maybe. I nodded. “That’s fine, or bottled water if you have it.”

  Johnny cursed under his breath. A moment later, he dropped two bottles of water on the table. “Are you dehydrated?”

  “No.”

  “Doc –”

  I impaled him with a glare.

  “Fine. Helen, we’re landing in a few minutes. People will be there to meet us.”

  “And you’re suddenly concerned that they’re going to pick up on this uncommitted vibe between us, the abject disgust, the death of your love –”

  “I never said anything of the –”

  “Relax. I’m pretty good at reading between the lines. You want my cooperation, want me to polish off those skills as such a great liar and put on the face of the loving wife who’s thrilled to be back in the arms of her darling husband. There’s only one problem with that. I’m not thrilled. This is the last place I wanted to be. And I’m not half the liar you think I am.”

  Johnny’s bristled posture expanded like a physical presence that crushed me where I sat. “Perhaps you should focus on thinking about all of this differently. Your freedom depends on those stellar acting skills I know you can summon at will. I should relax? I don’t think so, Helen. You’re walking back into the role you’ve been playing all along. Should be easy as pie.”

  “I’ll cooperate, but it’ll cost you.”

  “I don’t negotiate, not with you, never again. Did you forget the rules already? My game. You’ll damn well do as I say.”

  “And if you don’t want me kicking and screaming when you have to physically drag me off this plane, you’ll grant one concession. Don’t worry Johnny. It’s not illegal. If you’ll recall, I’ve never asked you to break the law for me.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and peered at me with deep suspicion. “All right, let’s hear it. What’s this single concession you’d like me to make?”

  “You don’t tell anyone the truth.”

  “I think that was sort of the plan all along, Helen,” he sneered. “Hence the ruse of a happy marriage.”

  “I meant the truth about who Crevan really is… in relatio
n to me.”

  “You want me to lie to my best friend, to conceal the fact that you’re his long lost sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Don’t tell me it’s because you have such a deep aversion to his parents that you don’t want them pushing their way into your life. You’ve never given a damn about them. As far as I can tell, the only person who really does matter to you is…” his voice died briefly. “Wendell. Oh that’s rich, Helen. This is about Wendell. You’re afraid that if Crevan learns the truth, he’ll suspect that Wendell abducted you, that he was part of this human trafficking thing.”

  I chewed, determined that Johnny’s vitriolic accusations wouldn’t destroy my appetite. “He wasn’t part of it. My father had no idea that I’m not biologically his until I told him.”

  Johnny snorted. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

  “Marie,” I said softly. “I knew it from the very beginning, the second that Maya confirmed the DNA results. She was the evil one. She stole me, or set it into motion. I don’t know why. Frankly I don’t care. I believe my father.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “And I don’t give a damn what you think. I told you this once already. Prison doesn’t sound like such a bad option to me. At least it would get me away from you. Give me this one thing, Orion. I’ll cooperate then. You can do whatever you want to me at the end of what, another 29 weeks?”

  His face grew inscrutable. “Tell me the truth. You really believed he had nothing to do with this, that it was your mother acting alone?”

  “I know it was. I realize you think I’m incapable of objectivity where my father is concerned, but there’s a reason I believe in him. He’s the one who raised me. He loved me and nurtured me and was everything a perfect father should be.”

  “Until he became Jersey Third Eye.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Go on. I’ll try to rein in the sarcasm just this once.”

  “Marie was cold, always. She had no maternal instinct. Why do you think I was so worried about…?”

  “About being a terrible mother too?”

  Liquid got trapped in my eyelashes. “Well, I suppose when you put it that way, I’m still screwed. My biological mother isn’t such a shining example of love and acceptance either is she? Turned her back on her only son.”

  Johnny’s lips formed a thin, tight line. Before I killed what he felt for me, this would’ve been the moment that he reassured me I wouldn’t be like either one of my so-called mothers. This time, he remained silent.

  “He doesn’t need to know. None of them need to know. I’m not that baby. I am Helen Eriksson, not Cailín Conall. I will never be her. I want no part of anything that tries to force me to be someone I’m not.”

  Johnny fell silent, stared at the table for a long time. So long that I finished my meal and the co-pilot appeared to ask us to buckle up for landing.

  Finally, his answer came. “I understand what you’re saying, Helen.”

  “Yet you disagree.”

  “I won’t tell Crevan the truth. I won’t deny it if in the course of this Sanderfield investigation it’s exposed.”

  I snorted. “Sanderfield’s not going to volunteer the information. Why help build a stronger case against him and his cronies? The only way anyone would know the truth is by doing exactly what I already did. There is no reason that anyone who isn’t personally affected by what happened to do so, and absolutely no reason that anyone would expect that I am the child that was stolen that night.”

  “Helen, Maya knows the truth too.”

  “Don’t worry about her,” I said grimly. “I’ll take care of Maya Winslow personally. You may count on that.”

  I’m pretty sure he worried about what I meant, specifically how I planned to take care of my oldest but most recent former-friend in Darkwater Bay.

  Chapter 17

  There would be some people waiting for us when we landed. Wasn’t that what Johnny said? Some turned out to be more than two. Chris Darnell, Crevan Conall, Devlin Mackenzie, Tony Briscoe, and last but by no means least, David Levine composed the somber group in the hangar.

  While the others had the good sense to stand back while I adjusted to what felt like a very tough crowd, David exercised no such restraint. He bounded forward and shoved space between Johnny and me with a crushing embrace.

  “Thank God you’re all right. Oh Helen, I was so worried about you. When we came back and saw what had happened at the house, I was out of my mind.”

  “I’m fine, David. I’m sure Johnny already explained –”

  “I didn’t,” Johnny said. “I simply figured out your location from the phone call and went to bring you back home where I know you’ll be safe.”

  David blinked. “Excuse me? What are you saying, Johnny? We were all under the impression that you followed a lead that led to where Helen was being held again.”

  He glanced at me and cleared his throat. “Helen eluded her captors, panicked and felt that going into hiding was the best option at the time.”

  “Helen! What on earth were you thinking? You put yourself at incredible risk doing something so reckless.”

  I stared at the tarmac. “I see that a little bit better now, David, but I’m not entirely convinced that coming back here was the right move, all things considered. I was targeted a second time. Now that they know where I am again, what’s to stop another attempt?”

  Johnny pulled me against his side, not so gently. “I’m what stops another attempt. I doubt anybody will disagree with my commitment to remain by your side, at least until David resolves the case he’s investigating.”

  “Johnny, that could take months,” Crevan said. “Do you honestly expect Collangelo to sign off on that?”

  Twenty-nine weeks was my estimate. Then Johnny would have what he wanted, no doubt complete with an epiphany that his soon-to-be ex-wife was nothing but a criminal too.

  “I’ve worked from home before, so yes. I expect him to sign off on it or accept my resignation.”

  “John, we’re all thrilled that Helen is home and safe, but I think you need to give this some additional thought,” Chris said.

  My anger muted the curiosity that Crevan and Chris’s objections should’ve sparked. Frankly, I didn’t care about whatever OSI fall out might occur, though I abhorred the notion of Johnny sticking to me like glue for the foreseeable future.

  Devlin inched forward. Our eyes met. “Are you all right, Helen? You weren’t hurt were you?”

  I started to go to him. Johnny’s arm snaked around my waist and held me back. I thought I heard his teeth grind. Get used to it, buddy. If you don’t want me anymore, I’ll find somebody who does.

  “Where did you find her?” David asked. His eyes roved critically over my face.

  “Long Island. I’m sure she thought that the old family home was the last place anyone would look for her.”

  “Helen, I wasn’t aware that you kept that house,” David said.

  “Precisely why she felt it would be the last place anyone would look,” Johnny said.

  David shifted his attention. “Johnny, did you tell her what happened? The other thing –”

  “No, and I don’t think that’s something we need to share with her until she’s had a chance to settle in at home.”

  “Nonsense,” David said. He clasped my hands in his. “My dear girl, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you, and I’m so sorry to break it to you this way. I know you’d never forgive me for withholding it simply because you just stepped off a plane.” He glanced in judgment at Johnny. “Thursday night, we became aware that your father was critically ill –”

  Panic strangled me. My audience read something else of course. How would they know I feared that news of his prison break had spread coast-to-coast a mere twelve hours after the event?

  “They summoned emergency services for him of course, but I’m so sorry, Helen. He died.”

  My jaw dropped. Tears sluiced down my cheeks. D
ead? What happened? Oh God!

  “He was taken to a local hospital and pronounced –”

  Skid marks burned on the sulci road of my brain. What?

  “Unfortunately, the hospital seemed to… misplace his remains.”

  How? What had… I turned my tear-stained face up and right. Johnny. He recognized the rage and immediately slammed my face, the rest of me too, against his chest.

  That sneaky, double dealing… what a stroke of genius! His hand stroked through the wig and almost pulled it off.

  “What the –?”

  Our eyes locked. I mouthed not now.

  “I need to get her home.”

  “Johnny, you can’t take her home! She was attacked. You need to get her to the hospital right now,” Crevan protested.

  “No. No hospital.”

  “See what I mean?” Johnny said. “I’ll get her to a doctor if she doesn’t bounce back by tomorrow. Is that good enough?”

  Everyone but David seemed like they inched back from his irate words.

  “Crevan, I’m fine, really. I wasn’t injured in the attack. I’ve been perfectly safe since I left Darkwater Bay. Being in a hospital right now would leave me feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever. I just want to go.”

  Go as far away from Darkwater Bay as humanly possible.

  Johnny understood the unspoken message. He adjusted my position, the literal handcuff restraining my upper arm. “We’re going home. Come on, Helen. The Expedition is outside the hangar.”

  Inside the car, I barely gave a thought to the five men watching the spectacular fight unfold. “I’m the liar? At least I didn’t leave a trail of witnesses all over upstate New York who could testify to the fact that Dad never came through an emergency room, was never pronounced dead and certainly wasn’t lost by some incompetent morgue attendant! Have you lost your mind?”