by LS Sygnet
“Ouch. Going after the family funds won’t sit well with Aidan.”
“It’s probably the one thing that would force him to confront Kathleen no matter where she is.”
“Then why is moving her to the bungalow a good idea?”
Johnny smiled, more of a smirk really. “Because your brilliant husband impressed upon her the necessity of maintaining the status quo right now, and that even if Aidan cancels her credit cards and freezes her bank account, we’ll make sure she wants for nothing in the meantime so that Aidan has no reason to confront her.”
I groaned. “So now I’m supporting her financially?”
“It’s for a good cause. If we finally figure out if Lyle Henderson was involved in your abduction as an infant or more recently, it all ends. Kathleen can make nice with her husband, and everything goes back to normal again.”
“Do you think that’s what Kathleen really wants?”
Johnny shrugged. “I’m not so sure anymore, but once this business with Henderson is resolved, we don’t care if she divorces Aidan and bilks him for half his wealth. She’ll have half a dozen of Darkwater Bay’s most ruthless fighting the good fight for her, going through Aidan’s finances with a fine-toothed comb sorting out what she’s entitled to and making sure she gets it.”
The animosity I felt every time I thought of Aidan Conall flowed through my veins. “I wish she’d get more than half,” I said. “After forty years with that asshole, she’s earned all of it.”
“David called when I was on the way home. Filled me in on this business with Jeremy Noel. I hate to say it, Helen, but I’m concerned that Wendell was intentionally less than forthcoming when he identified the man as Noah.”
I waved his concern aside. “He barely spent two seconds in the room, Johnny. Even Lucero admitted that Dad didn’t stick around to hear what the guy had to say. Lucero, on the other hand, was completely duped into believing that the FBI sent someone to follow up on the tip he gave about your visit.”
“But they didn’t send anyone,” Johnny said. “David said they only confirmed with the prison that I visited Wendell. They knew better than to think Wendell would see them or talk to them.”
“Right,” I drawled. “And your point?”
“If Lucero only told the FBI, who else knew I was there and wanted Wendell to explain why I visited him?”
I frowned. “That’s a very good question. Lucero was adamant that all he did was inform the bureau that someone else from law enforcement came to see Dad.”
“Who else knew about my visit? You. Me. Wendell. The FBI – eventually at least.”
“Seleeby?”
Johnny shook his head. “No, Helen. I was on my way to see Wendell when Seleeby showed up in Darkwater Bay again. Chris hauled his ass back to Washington. He’d already been removed from the Marcos investigation and reassigned to Idaho.”
Confusion flooded my brain. “How on earth did somebody…” my voice died. “Johnny, there’s one other possibility.”
“Well, what is it? For the life of me, I can’t figure out how anybody knew about what I did.”
“They didn’t immediately, nor did they make it known immediately. But I’m sure someone wanted to find out why you were at Attica all the same. Seeing my father, no less. You used the badge to get access to Daddy.”
Dawning lit Johnny’s eyes. “Sanderfield. It was one of the complaints he used to get OSI shut down. Son of a bitch. It’s another link to Henderson, Helen.”
I nodded. “Andy Gillette admitted that they’d been watching me. When you scared poor Florence Payette half to death, it was because she admitted that Eugene Sherman was very excited that I showed up in Darkwater Bay.”
He sighed. “I wish I’d kept my anger under control. I’d love to know what she really meant when she said excited. Was it agitation? Was he glad you were here? Worried? Terrified that you’d uncover the truth?”
“Zack has her in protective custody until this thing with Melissa Sherman finally goes to trial, Johnny. Maybe he’d let me try to talk to her again.”
“You don’t think it’s necessary, do you?”
I didn’t. “Isn’t it obvious that they – whoever they were – weren’t happy that I was here? Gillette told me I was sold before he abducted me. Clearly they had a plan to get rid of me again. You don’t do that when you’re happy that someone’s in town.”
“You might do it if you’re delighted to sell somebody again and make another profit.”
“But what if it isn’t that simple, Johnny?”
“What if it is? They sold you once, and planned to do it again. That seems pretty cut and dried to me.”
“I was out here for eight months before they abducted me. Did it take that long for them to plan my abduction, find a buyer, sell me, snatch me off Mercer Boulevard and try to break my will before delivering me to my owner?”
“Maybe,” Johnny scowled at nothing in particular.
“Or maybe they thought I might not stay here. Maybe they realized I wasn’t going anywhere after we foiled the abduction of Sofia Datello. Maybe my sale wasn’t really planned well at all. You said that the Coast Guard spotted another ship.”
Johnny nodded. “They saw us, and took off before we could even identify her, Helen. We can’t even be certain that it was the ship that was scheduled to meet The Celeste.”
“Dubious supposition. You’re presuming a colossal coincidence, that a ship would be waiting off the coast of Cleveland Island on the exact date Gillette said I would be placed in the hands of my new owner. I don’t buy it.”
“What did you assume was the inciting factor in the abduction?”
I sighed heavily. “Something that has been proven wrong now, at least to my satisfaction.” When Johnny’s response was a mere arched eyebrow, I elaborated. “I wondered if Danny simply wanted me out of the way so I wouldn’t be able to testify against him. Since he was dead, my absence would then assure that Melissa Sherman would probably walk.”
“Which still could be the case. We haven’t figured out why she’s so important to a bunch of people willing to die to provide dying declarations of her innocence. What I’d like to learn is if there’s a connection between Eugene Sherman and Lyle Henderson.”
“Or Lyle and Melissa,” I said. “We’re not getting anything from Sherman. She’s not stupid enough to talk without her attorney present. And Lyle Henderson is too old to be stupid enough to fall for police trickery.”
Johnny eyed me curiously. “Of course you’re right.”
“What?”
“Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I scrambled out of bed and followed him to the office. “Johnny, what’re you –?”
He thrust a file from his briefcase into my hand. “Look at it.”
I flipped the manila folder open and glanced inside. “It’s an old man. What’s your point?”
“Look at all of it, Helen.”
With a frustrated grunt, I perched on the edge of the built-in desk and started flipping through the contents. “Old man. Young woman… my mother?”
“Lyle Henderson. Melissa Sherman. Marie Eriksson. Keep going.”
More photos, Terrell Sanderfield, his deceased mother, my deceased grandmother, Gillette – I recoiled involuntarily and dropped the file onto the desk. “Okay, I get your point. You’ve got a file with all of the people you suspect were or still are involved in this human trafficking ring. Really, I understand.”
“Now look at those first three pictures again.”
“Johnny, I fail to see –”
“Exactly, just like we failed to see from the moment you stepped into town that there was an enormous family resemblance between you and your twin brother.”
I snatched the file again and flipped back to the first two pictures. “It’s hard to tell anything, Johnny. What’re you suggesting? That Lyle Henderson is Melissa Sherman’s grandfather?”
“Not those two pictures. These two.” He thrust Meliss
a Sherman’s photo onto the desk and slapped the photograph of my mother – well, Marie Eriksson – next to it.
My jaw sagged. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
“You see what I’m saying here, Helen?”
“Why? How did I – why wouldn’t I have noticed that my mother was pregnant again when I was ten years old?”
Johnny rolled his eyes and flicked my forehead. “Have you forgotten that Eugene Sherman didn’t look his age either, or that Lyle Henderson doesn’t appear to be 80 some years old?”
“Christ. She’s had plastic surgery.”
“It’s like I said. We didn’t see you and Crevan either.”
I shook my head and retreated. Johnny grasped my wrists and kept me from running. “Helen, he told you that as far as he’s concerned, you are the only daughter that he has.”
“Why would they swap his real daughter out for me? Who does something like that? And who raised Melissa Sherman?”
“I’d lay odds it was Lyle Henderson and his wife Suzy,” Johnny said. “What we need is her DNA sample, Helen.”
I snorted. “Good luck getting that. And who will you compare it to? We have no idea where Dad is, and even if we did, it’s no guarantee that he’d go along with testing his DNA against this woman’s.”
“True enough. I think he wants the truth about his child less than you do, but we’ve got to know, Helen. This could be the link that implicates Lyle Henderson, especially if we can prove that he raised a child named Melissa.”
Johnny whipped out his cell phone and dialed. “Hey Devlin,” he said after the briefest pause. “Got a job for you, and it’s going to require an out of town investigation.”
I started shaking my head. He ignored me.
“I want you in Poughkeepsie, New York by the end of the day. Yeah, that’s right. I want every bit of information you can ferret out on Lyle Henderson and his wife. Helen told me weeks ago when she convinced me that her father wasn’t part of her abduction that that’s where her mother went when Wendell kicked her out of the house. Apparently, that’s where Marie Henderson was raised.”
He paused. I cringed.
“I have reason to suspect that Melissa Sherman might’ve been raised by Henderson there.”
Devlin’s voice was loud enough to hear his reaction, even though I couldn’t make out the specific words.
“Yeah, she could be Wendell’s biological daughter, but before we try to figure out how to legally obtain the necessary DNA samples to prove it, I want to know if Lyle and Suzy Henderson raised another child. Call me when you land in New York.”
“This is a mistake,” I said. “If we can suddenly prove that Melissa Sherman is my father’s biological child, how in the hell do you plan to explain how we got a sample of his DNA for comparison?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’d suggest you get busy trying to find your father, Helen. We’re going to need his help.”
Chapter 12
The phone rang twice.
“Helen?”
“Dad, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days!”
“I’m glad you called, and I apologize for ignoring the other calls. I need to speak to you.”
“Is that how this works now? You only answer the phone when you want to hear from me?”
“That didn’t come out right. Things have been… unusual, Helen. I’ll explain everything after I see you.”
My eyes widened. “You’re here?”
“Don’t announce it to the world, Helen. But yes, I’m in Darkwater Bay.”
“When did you get here? Oh, God, Dad. Please swear to me that you had nothing to do with Senator Sanderfield’s death.”
“I promise, I did not kill the man, nor do I know who did.”
I slouched into the corner of the sofa and cradled my forehead in my hand. “Daddy, how long have you been here?”
“Since shortly after my death,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, Sprout. I was trying to protect you. Faded into the background, keeping a low profile, making sure no one was trying to abduct you or murder you again.”
“Daddy –”
“Is Johnny within earshot?”
“No, he’s in the office at the moment trying to figure out how we can obtain a legal DNA sample from someone without tipping our hand.”
“Oh?”
“There’s a possibility that we’ve found your biological child.”
I felt Dad’s tension as briskly as if he’d been sitting right beside me. “I don’t care who that person is, Helen. You’re my child. You need to stop pursuing this aspect of the investigation immediately.”
“I’d love nothing better, but Johnny’s determined that this could be the link between the human trafficking operation and Lyle Henderson.”
“Nonsense,” Wendell said. “While I don’t doubt that the man is pure evil who merely hides behind a bible, he was dirt poor, Helen. He might’ve helped Marie find a child to replace one that likely died in utero, but do you really believe –?”
“Yes! There are too many links. He knows the Conalls. He was married to Sanderfield’s mother. But Daddy, there’s more. Not even I can deny the resemblance between Melissa Sherman and Mom.”
“Marie?”
“Of course Marie. I realize physical similarities in photographs are hardly evidence, but I can’t pretend it isn’t there, Daddy. If this answers how all of this happened, if it helps us stop these people from selling human beings, we have an obligation to see it through to the end, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.”
“I can think of far easier ways to stop them.”
“Dad, promise me you’re not going to kill anyone.”
He laughed.
“Daddy, please!”
“Don’t you want to look me in the eye when I make the promise so you know that I’m telling you the truth?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, only for a moment of hesitation. “When and where?”
“First, you have to swear not to tell Johnny that I’m here. You will not tell him you’ve seen me or talked to me in person –”
“Is this another test of my faith in my husband?”
“No, Helen. I’m deadly serious. I’m not asking you to lie to him. But for the time being, I must insist on secrecy.”
I walked a fine line with Johnny after everything we’d been through over the past several months. Our unborn children reminded me where my loyalties had to lie. “All right, Dad. I promise.”
“Meet me in Downey in that neighborhood where you were shot. Do you remember that little Greek restaurant?”
“Of course I do. Mr. Kostas’ son helped me a great deal last year.”
“Then meet me there in two hours. Come alone.”
He disconnected the call before I had the opportunity to suggest a more private location for our first face to face meeting since we parted ways in upstate New York. It didn’t matter. I bounded off the sofa and joined Johnny in the office.
“He answered the phone.”
“And?” Johnny asked.
“He’s here. In Darkwater Bay. He’s been here for weeks, Johnny. And he wants to meet me at that Greek restaurant where Lucas Blake’s body was found last fall in two hours.”
“Alone?”
My eyes filled with tears. “Yes.”
“He asked you to keep this from me, didn’t he?”
I nodded.
Johnny rose and wrapped his arms around me. “Well, then you’ll meet him alone, just don’t tell him you’re wearing the anklet.”
“Really?”
Johnny kissed the top of my head. “I trust you; you trust me. This doesn’t work any other way, Helen. Right?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “No more secrets.”
It was a wonderfully liberating moment for me, one in which I finally understood that I’m not alone anymore.
“Is she coming?” Datello asked. He paced the floor in Father O’Malley’s small a
partment behind Saint Agnes Parish.
“She said she would,” Wendell said.
“Alone?”
He shrugged. “I suspect that my daughter loves Johnny Orion more than she loves me. And of course, she should. We have something serious to discuss, Danny.”
“She’ll be armed. Maybe she’ll be so upset that I’m not dead that she’ll shoot me. I didn’t enjoy the first experience, you know.” Pressured speech punctuated his agitation.
“Tell me about Melissa Sherman. According to the press coverage, you knew her husband quite well.”
Danny growled. “The bitch that stole my child? Yes, I knew her. Vaguely at least. I wasn’t interested in her, if that’s what you’re getting at. How many times must I tell you that I love Celeste?”
“I wasn’t implying otherwise. I need to know what you know about her.”
The pacing halted for a moment before resuming with even more vigor. “She was insanely young to be married to Sherman. The man was nearly ninety years old, Wendell. It was obscene.”
“You’re a great deal older than Celeste too.”
“You dare compare twenty-some years to nearly sixty?” he snarled. Fingers curled into the priestly garb.
Wendell merely arched one eyebrow.
Datello let go. “I’m sorry. A lot of people gave me grief about Celeste, the age difference at least. They thought I married her because she was a beauty queen – literally. She was Miss Darkwater Bay the year that we met and began dating. The moment she passed the crown on to her successor, I whisked her away to Hawaii and married her. That was nearly four years ago.”
“Touching, but it tells me nothing about Mrs. Sherman.”
“She was a hostess. I knew Eugene.”
“Were you aware that he wasn’t really Eugene Sherman?” Wendell asked.
Shock, then anger flickered through Datello’s eyes. “He was part of Sofia’s abduction, wasn’t he?”
“There is so much about this that you don’t know,” Wendell said. “The only reason I know it is because Helen told me at Attica before I escaped.”