Cloaked in Blood

by LS Sygnet

  “You’re going to have to tell me how you managed that,” Datello said. “I have a feeling there isn’t a prison strong enough to keep Uncle Sully incarcerated if he’s ever convicted.”

  Wendell chuckled. “Does Sully have a brilliant daughter who would risk her life to set him free?”

  Danny’s eyes widened. “Helen broke you out of jail? I thought you said she just got the ball rolling.”

  “She provided the means, put it in my hands herself. But making sure no one knew what really happened, that was my responsibility. Let’s get back to Eugene Sherman. He stole the identity of the real attaché, I’m afraid. If you spent any time with the man, perhaps you met a woman he allegedly employed. Florence, I believe was the name.”

  Datello nodded. “Quiet as a church mouse. I think that Gene said she was a nurse, an old family friend, that her mother worked for him for many years and he’d become fond of the girl, looked after her after her mother died.”

  “Florence claimed that Eugene Sherman owned her.”

  Datello slumped onto the sofa. “Owned?”

  “This is much bigger than your daughter’s abduction, Danny. I’m sorry to say that her kidnapping probably saved lives. You see, my Helen uncovered a human trafficking ring that involved your deep sea fishing business.”

  “The hell it did!”

  “She was abducted after your alleged murder and was taken aboard a ship named after your wife, I presume, and was to be sold, transferred out at sea.”

  “Umberto,” Danny hissed. “That motherfucker. I should’ve listened when my man told me that the discrepancies with The Celeste didn’t add up.”

  “Well, this Umberto fellow is dead, as is Andy Gillette, a police detective in Montgomery who was also part of this flesh peddling business.”

  “Helen?”

  Wendell grinned. “They had her chained to a wall and she still managed to kill both of them. Of course Orion found her, he and this agent from the FBI that worked with Helen for years put it all together and intercepted your trawler before the transfer took place.”

  Danny chuckled. “She really isn’t someone you want as an enemy, is she?”

  “It was self defense.”

  “How’d she manage to kill them if they had her restrained?”

  “She told me that she kicked this Umberto fellow in the face, shoved his nose bones back into his brain, and Gillette, well, he thought to have her ankles shackled, which only aided her in snapping his neck with her leg when he tried to assault her.”

  “Jesus,” Datello said. “She thinks I was part of it, doesn’t she?”

  “I doubt it. Not if she’s really looking after your wife. I can’t see Helen having anything to do with your Celeste if she thought you were part of a human trafficking ring. On the contrary, I think she’d have made sure that your daughter was never found, that she grew up in a home where Helen could be certain she’d be safe from corrupting influences.”

  Datello eyed him suspiciously. “Because that’s what you would’ve done, right?”

  He nodded curtly. “Why did you know Eugene Sherman?”

  “I was incensed when I learned that Johnny Orion was the head of the governor’s task force.”

  “OSI,” Wendell said.

  “Yes, the agency tasked with a witch hunt, and me slated front and center for the burning stake.”

  “Is that the only reason you hate Johnny Orion?”

  “I already told you I blamed him for letting a man get away with murdering a fifteen year old girl.”

  “But Johnny didn’t do that. Jerry Lowe was the murderer.” Wendell paused and stroked his chin for a moment. “I’d like very much to meet Mr. Lowe. Has he been tried for murder yet, do you know? There seems to be woefully little press information about the man since his competency hearing.”

  “He’s still out at Dunhaven,” Danny said. “Mental hospital.”

  “The place where Mitch Southerby thought he would torture my daughter,” Wendell said. “I wasn’t aware that was where Lowe was being held.”

  “Southerby posed as a hospital administrator. Apparently, when Lowe helped him fake his death after he hinted that he’d never tell the police who hired him to kill the district attorney, Lowe had him convinced that the file I had on my uncle was in his possession and would be safe as long as nothing happened to him. I suppose Jerry thought Southerby might return the favor and help him escape incarceration this time.”

  “And of course, Southerby was only interested in getting the incriminating evidence so it could be destroyed,” Wendell said with another nod. “Letting Lowe escape would’ve put him in a very bright spotlight.”

  “I suspected that his plan involved a little more than getting my evidence,” Datello admitted. “Celeste and I talked about disappearing rather than returning to Darkwater Bay after the holidays. But he called when Helen served the warrant on Dunhaven and told me that he was going to get the information one way or another.”

  “You came back to stop him.”

  Danny hung his head. “I failed. He knew I’d come. He knew I’d be arrested and blamed for storming the medical examiner’s office. Of course, he didn’t count on Helen arresting him before the rest of that fiasco went down. He thought she’d be dead.”

  Wendell’s eyes glittered dangerously. “And where might Mr. Southerby be housed, Danny?”

  A somber gaze met Wendell’s. “He’s at Bay County Correctional Facility. Why?”

  “No one threatens to kill my daughter. No one.”

  “You can’t get to him, Wendell. He’s in isolation, just like I was.”

  “Wendell Eriksson can’t get to him, or Melissa Sherman for that matter. But Father Joseph O’Malley certainly can.”

  “You can’t possibly think that you’d get away with killing someone inside the county jail. Look what happened to the man who tried to kill me.”

  “Helen won’t be there to stop me.”

  “And you don’t think they’ve tightened up security since that happened?”

  “Even for a priest?” Wendell grinned. “Relax, Datello. I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive. I should think that you of all people wouldn’t object to either one of these lowlifes meeting a swift date with justice. Both of them threatened you and your family.”

  Datello raked a hand through his hair. “Is it a tempting proposition? Of course it is, but Wendell, I’ve been down that road before. What if you’re wrong? What if Melissa Sherman was a victim of someone’s lies, her husband’s perhaps?”

  The grim determination took him aback, but was far less chilling than Wendell’s bombshell.

  “On the contrary. She’s in this up to her eyeballs. Did I neglect to mention that Helen believes Melissa Sherman might be my biological daughter?”

  Chapter 13

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  The urge to run as far from Wendell Eriksson as possible was strong. Danny’s gut fisted into a tight knot. How could a man threaten to kill his own child?

  He thought of Sofia Helene, the beautiful baby he’d only seen a single picture of on the day she was born. Carlos Stefano brought it on his cell phone and showed him before Danny even got to speak to his wife, before his sweet angel had been kidnapped.

  “Have I alarmed you?”

  “Frankly, yes. How can you kill one child…” Datello frowned. “Your biological daughter? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Helen isn’t really mine,” Wendell said. His fists clenched until the knuckles drained of blood and color. “Apparently, her biological parents had twins, a son and a daughter, and the daughter was abducted.”

  “Jesus,” Danny said. “Helen?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s all part of the same thing, isn’t it? That’s what you meant when you said there was a whole lot about all of this that I didn’t know. But if they planned to make me look like the guilty party in all of this, it would be impossible. Helen’s what, eleven years y
ounger than I am?”

  “You’d know that better than I would. She’ll be thirty-nine in June.”

  Danny nodded. “I was eleven years old when she was born. There’s no way I could be part of all of that.”

  Wendell’s chuckle chilled his blood again. “I think the point was to nip the investigation in the bud by making it appear that your daughter was an arranged adoption. They didn’t count on Helen uncovering everything else. And when it became clear that she was onto much more than one missing child, they simply decided to mop up the mess.”

  “They tried to kill me. They abducted Helen.”

  “Your employee, Destiny Gerard, she tried to blame you too, and then conveniently committed suicide.”

  Danny covered his mouth with both hands. “This looks really bad, doesn’t it?”

  “We’ll find out if Helen is on the right track in about an hour, Danny. My faith in her ability to reason her way through all these lies is unshaken.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Positive.”

  Danny shook his head lightly. “You love her as if she were your own child, don’t you?”

  “She is my daughter, in every way that matters, Danny. Never doubt that. I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her, and I will continue to protect her and make certain she’s happy until the day I die. That’s what fathers do.” Wendell paused for a moment and regarded Datello thoughtfully. “Think about what you did to protect all the young girls in Darkwater Bay from this Masconi character. Would you do any less for your Sofia?”

  “No,” Danny said. “Or for Celeste. I’d do anything for either one of them.”

  “Including stay away?”

  “I…”

  “It’s the hardest part. I’d love nothing more than to be with Helen every single day, to get to know my grandsons. But it’s not possible. It would put her in grave danger.”

  “Are you saying that I should give up on my family?”

  “No, of course not. Your situation is completely different. At least, for now. I need to get ready to meet Helen right now. You must do exactly as I say, Danny. No matter how tempting, you cannot make your presence known to her. I’ll talk to Helen and explain what’s going on. If Helen reacts as I suspect, the three of us can figure out what comes next. Watch for my signal and join us when you see it.”

  I sat in the most secluded booth in Kostas’ restaurant that still allowed me to watch the front door. As I predicted last fall, the radical change in the neighborhood since the arrest of the Jackson drug cartel breathed new life into all the businesses. Mr. Kostas was prospering, despite the fact that his restaurant wasn’t out on Hennessey Island.

  The door opened, and a priest stepped inside. Mr. Kostas met him with an effusive greeting.

  “Father O’Malley! Welcome, welcome! You honor us with a visit.”

  My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. The hair was dark, the wrinkles smoothed, but without a doubt, the priest was my father. Without thinking, I slid out of the booth and took three quick steps toward him before I realized I couldn’t maul my father with hugs and kisses when everyone else believed he was a priest.

  It was laughable! Of all the disguises in the world… leave it to Dad to find one not even I would’ve imagined.

  He shook Mr. Kostas’ hand and made a brief gesture in my direction.

  “Ah, you know our angel? She saved this neighborhood, Father O’Malley. Detective Eriksson is very good woman, very big heart, very good soul. I am glad you know her now.”

  Wendell smiled and made his way toward me. His eyes swept over me in silent assessment. Yes, I’ve gained weight since the last time he saw me, most of it in the growing bulge of my low abdomen.

  His smile blinded me.

  “You look magnificent, Sprout,” he said in a low voice. “I’d give anything for a proper greeting right now, but it will have to wait.”

  “You shouldn’t be here, Daddy.”

  “Father,” he corrected quietly. “No one will question you calling me Father. Daddy is a little too informal, all things considered.”

  “What are you doing here?” We sat down across the checkerboard table and simply stared for long moments. “It’s not safe for you to be on this continent, Father.”

  He grinned. “Are priests fair game in Darkwater Bay too? I understand it’s open season on cops.”

  “Stop kidding around. What’re you doing here?”

  “Looking after my flock of course.”

  “Hmm,” I frowned. “A flock of three?”

  “Four if I include your husband. He’s not joining us, is he?”

  “Of course not. You made me promise to come alone.”

  “And keep him in the dark regarding my whereabouts. He’s worried about you too, Helen. Did you know that Johnny came to confession at his old parish this morning?”

  “I knew he was in Downey. How would you know…?”

  “Saint Agnes Parish, and no, it isn’t an accident that I’ve been camped out in his old church hoping he’d come to confession. We don’t believe in coincidences, do we, Sprout?”

  We certainly didn’t. “Dare I ask you again in person?”

  Dad met my gaze evenly. “I did not kill him, Helen. I haven’t killed anyone in… well, a very long time.”

  “Is this the reason you wanted to meet with me, because you’re worried that I’d start looking for evidence of whatever it is that you have been doing out here?”

  “You’d have never known I wasn’t in Sweden if I hadn’t told you the truth. Really, Sprout, all of this mistrust hurts.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I accept your apology. Now I need information from you.”

  “I can’t help you stalk people you think are guilty, Dad. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re wasting your time.”

  The sincerity of his smile chased away some of my fears. I love my father, but at the same time, I’m not ignorant anymore. I know what he’s capable of doing, what he’s guilty of doing in the past. At least some of it.

  “Helen, I need information about Danny Datello.”

  “What? Why? He’s dead. It’s my fault. What else is relevant? Have you learned something that points to his involvement in –?”

  “Shh,” he murmured. “I need to know if you have any doubts about his innocence, Sprout. When we spoke before, you seemed to be vacillating a bit.”

  “I’ve made mistakes, Daddy,” I said. “And I’m afraid that Danny was one of them. How ironic, that you’re sitting here in this ridiculous costume, and I’m in the mood to confess my mistakes.”

  He leaned forward. “Would it help if I go first?”

  I laughed. “Dad, I don’t think I can stand any more confessions from you. It’s probably far worse than I’ve imagined, isn’t it?”

  “Are we talking head count?”

  I nodded.

  Kostas arrived with drinks. “On house,” he grinned. “You like the keftedes, detective? I bring you some.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kostas. Father, do you have any specific requests?”

  He waved one hand. “Make the order to go, Papa,” Dad said.

  I lifted one eyebrow.

  “Everyone calls him Papa, Helen. I thought you knew these people.”

  “Apparently not well enough to call him papa.”

  “You’re evading the question, my dear. What can you tell me about Danny Datello?”

  “No more than you’ve undoubtedly learned on your own. You know he was Sully Marcos’ nephew, that he was my ex-husband’s cousin. He died in the county jail when a corrupt FBI agent murdered him in cold blood. What else is there to say?”

  Wendell sighed. Somehow, I innately knew that he was disappointed in my answers. My self-loathing was a little too raw, too fresh to delve much deeper without emotion clouding my responses. The last thing I wanted was for my father to see me reduced to a weeping blob of guilt.

  “There’s more you haven’t told me. We may have been se
parated for half your life, Helen, but I know you as well as I know myself. What are you hiding?”

  I sucked the syrupy beverage through the straw as an excuse to delay the inevitable. Dad reached across the table and pried the drink from my fingers.

  “Talk to me, Sprout. Since when do you lie to your own father?”

  “It’s not a lie. This is just something I don’t want to discuss.”

  “Did he hurt you? Threaten you somehow?”

  Well, there was that incident at Central Division when we had our first real conversation. I threatened Datello. He threatened me. I didn’t really take him seriously. Well, perhaps a little seriously. And then there were the flowers he sent after my shooting, letting me know he hadn’t forgotten I was here.

  “Helen?”

  I blew out a slow, shuddering breath. “It was posturing on both our parts, Dad. He wasn’t involved in most of what I assumed he’d done. There was one murder, not that I have any evidence beyond the confession of his wife, which even if Danny were still alive, couldn’t be used against him. Spousal privilege and all that.”

  He nodded curtly. “Are you convinced that he isn’t the monster you believed him to be?”

  Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. I dashed them away defiantly. “He’s dead, and it’s my fault. Isn’t that bad enough? Do you really need to hear me confess the whole thing? You’re taking this priesthood business a little far, if you want my opinion.”

  “Come home with me, Helen. We need to speak in private.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I can’t do that, Daddy. Whatever you want to tell me, it needs to happen here. Johnny knows where I am at all times. If you take me home, it could lead OSI and the FBI straight to you.”

  “What’re you saying?”

  “I consented to wear an ankle monitor until this is resolved. It’s for my safety, for the safety of my children, Dad. I won’t risk them. I can’t.”

  His eyes flickered anxiously around the restaurant. “You told him, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “He’s my husband. He’s protected me. He’s been there for me when there was absolutely nobody else. I didn’t realize until very recently how much I’ve needed that, needed Johnny. It’s ironic, I suppose, that Danny Datello’s widow was the one who helped me realize that I’ve lived my whole life feeling like an outsider who had no choice but to face everything alone. I’m not saying that you don’t love me, or that you wouldn’t be here for me if you could, but you can’t. You can’t stay here, Daddy. Please. Just… go away. Be safe, but do it somewhere where you’ll never be found, where no one will question your death.”