Cloaked in Blood

by LS Sygnet

  I cleared my throat. “Since I’ve learned firsthand how well you hear, I suppose you were able to make out some of this loud conversation or could tell which of Mr. Henderson’s friends was next door.”

  “These apartments, for as nice as they are, were indeed constructed for the deaf,” Tilly chuckled. “Mind you, I didn’t catch every word that was said, but I heard enough to know that Lyle was very troubled by the death of that orderly Nate yesterday. Nasty business. Oh yes, I heard all about his little mishap last night, but Benjamin Fowler, he was the man who witnessed the terrible crime last night, told us all about it over dinner.” She slid a cup of tea toward me. “Cream or sugar, dear?”

  I suspected that Tilly’s desire to dine with the crowd had more to do with hearing salacious details than anything else. “Both please. My husband thinks I’m not gaining enough weight.”

  She eyed me critically. “How far along are you anyway?”

  “You don’t already know?”

  Tilly laughed. “Oh, I like you. You’ve got spunk. Remind me of myself about a hundred years ago. Now where were we? Oh yes, that murder last night. Is that why you’re all lurking about the hall tonight? You see, one of the things Lyle said to that visitor of his was that he had a good mind to call the police and tell them what he knew about Nate.”

  I stirred the dollop of cream and lump of sugar into my tea. “Was Lyle a witness the police didn’t know about, Tilly?”

  “Oh heavens, who knows? Mr. Henderson is too good to associate with the likes of the other tenants of the Hanging Gardens. He’s got the largest apartment in the building you know. When he purchased his apartment before the building switched to the rental agreements most of us got suckered into, he actually bought two and had them remodeled. Nobody knows anything about him, other than he fancies himself some sort of evangelist. My mother always said to never trust a man who preys on the fears of others to make his money.”

  “Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

  Tilly nodded. “She was, God rest. But tell me, Mrs. Orion, isn’t that why OSI is here? Because Lyle called the police to tell you what he knew?”

  “He’s not answering his door, so I’m afraid we don’t know what he wanted to tell us.”

  “Dear me.”

  She sipped and sighed for a moment while I debated how hard to push for more information.

  “These thin walls, I take it Lyle didn’t resolve that problem when he remodeled.”

  Tilly chuckled. “He was knocking them down, dear, not reinforcing them. To be honest, until earlier tonight, I’ve never heard a peep from his apartment. It was somewhat shocking.”

  “You didn’t happen to see his visitor leave, did you?”

  “Oh yes,” she grinned slyly. “My vision is pretty good too, but my grandson installed some sort of apparatus that magnifies what’s on the other side of my door rather than making it tiny.”

  “Did you recognize his visitor?”

  “I’d never seen him before in my life, but he was quite tall. I realize my view of him might’ve been distorted a bit by magnification, but he seemed big.”

  “Muscular?”

  “That’s what I thought until I decided to go back downstairs to see if Elizabeth was pretending to sip another glass of bourbon. I rode in the elevator with him. He was a little taller than your handsome friend out there, but not quite so buff.”

  I laughed. “Buff, Tilly? You think Crevan is buff?”

  “He tries to hide it under that suit of his, but I’ve been watching men longer than the both of you have been alive combined. I know a well built fellow when I see one. This gentleman was thinner, very dark hair, and the angriest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, although he tried to hide it.”

  “What else did you see?” God, but I’d have given anything to have witnesses like Tilly crop up every time we needed lots of pertinent details.

  “He was an older gentleman, but I could tell he was vain,” she said. “If I can spot buff, I can spot even a very good dye job, Mrs. Orion.”

  “Call me Helen.”

  “Drink your tea, dear.”

  I took a tiny sip.

  “And I’m certain he’s not so vain that he’d use that Botox nonsense. Lyle on the other hand, I’m sure he does. The man’s facial expression never changes. This friend of his? Very angry. He was muttering under his breath when he got off the elevator.”

  “Did you hear what he said?”

  Her grin buoyed my hopes. “Of course, dear. My hearing is excellent after all. He said, “Dammit, I’ve got to call Koehler again.”

  “I’d ask if you’re certain, but I already know you heard what you heard, Tilly. I’d suggest you steer clear of Lyle Henderson.”

  “Oh? Why would I do that? This has been the most interesting week on the island since I moved here ten years ago. Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that Lyle’s right in the middle of all of it.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Tilly snorted. “He bragged about that step-son of his to anyone who would listen. He was close with Nate. Well, a lot of us were, but Nate always got special attention if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “He ran errands for Lyle. He never would tell me what they were, but I know Lyle kept that boy well compensated. He just bought a new truck last month.”

  “And you don’t think he could afford it on his salary?”

  “Helen, dear, this place charges a fortune to its residents, but they don’t pay the caregivers enough money to buy Cadillacs, certainly not brand new ones.”

  Dear God. Had Nate been run down by his own vehicle? I needed to see Bay View Division’s investigative report from the hit and run last night.

  “You still didn’t tell me why this week has been so interesting, Tilly.” I suspected I knew what her answer would be. She didn’t disappoint me.

  “Please. The only two people I knew were close to Lyle, and they’re dead within a few days of each other, not to mention both died within a half a block of each other. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence. If I were Lyle, I’d be beating down your door, my dear. I’d want the police camped out on my doorstep making sure I was safe and not the next person on a very unlucky list.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Instinct told me that if Maya had fingerprints to run on the John Doe across the street, she’d learn that his name was Koehler. Still, another eye witness, and nobody could name this elusive dark haired man.

  “Tilly, do you have family in town?”

  “Certainly. Why do you ask?”

  “I think it would be safer if you went to stay with them for a few days, at least until you see on the news that Senator Sanderfield and Nate’s murders have been solved.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh dear me! You don’t suppose that man I saw was involved, do you? Gracious! I could be the star witness at his trial!”

  Chapter 31

  Crevan was waiting at Henderson’s door when I left Tilly’s apartment. I waited until she called her grandson and asked him to come pick her up before I left.

  “Did he answer the door yet?”

  “I think Johnny hallucinated, Helen. I haven’t heard a peep from inside this place. I did hear every word from inside the old lady’s apartment though. She’s right about these walls. Seven toilet’s flushing, someone snoring rather loudly, and I believe somebody up here likes Late Night with Jimmy Fallon more than you’d expect from this advertising demographic.”

  I chuckled. “Well, maybe Johnny is jumpy. It was still a worthwhile trip. Or do you disagree?”

  “I don’t,” Crevan said. “That’s not going to mitigate my insubordination.”

  “I’m not his employee, and he doesn’t have the right to order you to interfere in my life.”

  “Helen,” Crevan sighed, “do you have any idea what a fine line you’re treading here? He’s tired of your lies, of the constant fight to keep you – and his unborn children – s
afe. He thinks you don’t trust him at all.”

  “Well, he’s walking just as thin a wire with me,” I said. “I should’ve known better than to believe this would work, Crevan. He’s overbearing, a control freak, everything I despised about him when I met him has only gotten worse. Am I supposed to ignore his lies, his broken promises?”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Tilly called through the closed door.

  Crevan gripped my arm and steered me toward the elevator. “I assume you’re not going to accuse me of manhandling you when privacy is so important right now.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I suppose the salient question is, are you going to tell Johnny what we did tonight?”

  I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the plush carpet outside the elevator. “I suppose I don’t have a choice. If I don’t tell him, you will.”

  Crevan shook his head. “No. Do I hope you’ll tell him? Yes, for more than the obvious reason that he needs to know we’ve probably got the last name of this assassin and an eyewitness unrelated to the apparently far reaching operation that somebody is mopping up. You realize that Tilly probably saw the man behind the curtain tonight.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “He probably wouldn’t be so careless to come see Lyle here, Crevan.”

  “Or perhaps his desperation is showing. This man across the street was going to kill Lyle Henderson tonight. Can we at least agree on that much?”

  I stepped into the elevator. “Again, I agree.” My hands balled into fists. “I know he needs to know, Crevan, but it was just a few hours ago that he promised me that he’d stop being so dictatorial. He wouldn’t even listen to me tonight. He snarled at my best friend –”

  “You wouldn’t even speak to Maya a few weeks ago,” Crevan reminded me.

  “Because Johnny bullied her into telling him what I was really doing!”

  Crevan sighed. “I give up. I can’t talk sense into either one of you. Helen, you lie to everyone. Is Johnny controlling? Yeah, but most of the time, his heart’s in the right place. If you two can’t start communicating, you’re doomed. Is that really what you want?”

  I wasn’t sure anymore. Of course, the heart thought it knew, but the brain was still full of doubt and excuses, mitigating circumstances if you will. It was so easy a couple of days ago, to make the decision, the choice of my husband over my father. Now I wasn’t certain of anything again. Of either one of them, if I were honest with myself.

  Crevan gestured when the elevator doors opened. “Let me get you home before he realizes that blood was thicker than water tonight. I really don’t want to have to go to work for my boyfriend. I’ve never been much of a bartender.”

  I halted him, hugged him close and whispered, “I love you, my brother. And I hate the bastard that did this to us. If he had a heart, my father would’ve raised both of us.”

  “Isn’t it about time I met this vaunted hero who turned you into the only woman I really respect?” Crevan said.

  “Take me home,” I smiled. “You’re right. It’s time.”

  Dad was still at the house when Crevan pulled up to the front door. I called to warn him that we were on our way, that Crevan knew everything, even that Danny was alive and well and hiding out in our house.

  “He’ll bolt if he knows.”

  “So tell him I’m giving you a head’s up so he can make himself scarce while the three of us talk.”

  “He’ll probably panic if he learns Crevan knows I’m alive,” Dad spoke barely above a whisper.

  “Tell him to wait upstairs. I’ll explain everything to him later. I think he trusts me enough to accept that much, Dad.”

  We walked through the courtyard. All was quiet. The lights I’d left on when Johnny and I went to Hennessey Island were extinguished. At least those visible from the front of the house. But Dad was still here. I knew it the moment I opened the front door. He was in the kitchen cooking.

  I grinned. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Dad. He always used to make that for us when either one of us had a rough day. I can’t believe I forgot about the comfort food thing.”

  Crevan eyed me critically. “You look like you forgot about the food thing in general most of the time.”

  “Shut up. I’ve gained ten pounds in two months. I eat constantly.”

  Crevan followed me into the kitchen. I didn’t miss the fact that his step faltered, the gait slowed. I reached behind myself with one hand. His fingers clasped mine tightly.

  “Daddy, I think it’s time that the two of you –”

  “My God,” Dad said.

  Crevan twisted his hand free and extended it to my father. “Sir, I’m Crevan Conall.”

  “Wendell Eriksson,” Dad said. “Call me Wendell.”

  He stared at us for a little too long.

  “Grilled cheese is gonna burn if you don’t pay attention,” I said. I yanked the fridge open. “You want a beer, Crevan? I think Johnny has some Heineken in here.”

  “Yeah, that’s great,” he said, but his eyes hadn’t quite left my father either.

  “You bear a remarkable resemblance,” Dad finally said. “I can’t fathom how anyone in this city could’ve seen the two of you together and not realized who Helen really was.”

  “It wasn’t quite as obvious before she cut off all her hair,” Crevan said. “But I knew immediately. Our… my parents did too. At least my mother admitted as much. My father, well, he hasn’t spoken to me for months.”

  “Helen told me,” Dad said. He flipped the grilled cheese on the griddle and stirred the lightly seasoned soup. “I’m sorry you had that happen, son. No parent should ever reject a child for any reason. My daughter could’ve grown up to be a cannibalistic serial killer and I wouldn’t have abandoned her.”

  It opened an uncomfortable dialogue I wish Crevan hadn’t started. “Would you, sir? What if Melissa Sherman is in fact your daughter? What if she’s involved in the very criminal enterprise that intended to sell Helen into slavery? Will you defend her and abandon Helen?”

  I cringed.

  Dad shocked both of us by laughing. “I don’t care, in this instance, what the science says, Crevan. Helen is my daughter. I raised her. I taught her to walk, to read, to defend herself. She is my heart and my soul and my only reason for never losing hope. Biology can’t change that.”

  “So in a couple of days, when Maya gets the rushed results back and we know the truth, you’re not going to suddenly feel some obligation to try to fix your biological child?”

  “Crevan,” I said.

  “It’s all right, Sprout. He didn’t grow up with a father who cherished him simply because he exists. You see, Crevan, I have a bond with my daughter that no test result will ever break. But, and I should’ve confessed this right away, I’m not so sure that these test results are going to tell you what you think.”

  “Daddy, what are you saying?”

  “Simply that the conversation we shared about Marie, how I had to drag her to the doctor to find out why she was growing so obese, made me consider more strongly an old suspicion that I harbored until the day I held you in my arms.”

  “That she wasn’t carrying your child at all. We talked about this already.”

  Dad nodded. “But what I didn’t say was that I always found her relationship with Lyle Henderson to be more than a little unsettling.”

  I cringed. “You think he was having sex with his wife’s daughter?”

  “Suzy was eleven years older than he was, Helen.”

  “Yeah,” I scoffed, “and he was 20 years older than Mom. You’re suggesting that the guy who probably changed her diapers and kissed her scraped knees when she fell off her tricycle had sex with her, impregnated her as an adult? That’s just… disgusting. I thought he was this ultra religious fundamentalist.”

  “Who probably sold other little girls into other disgusting situations,” Crevan said grimly. “Helen, don’t doubt your father. I suspect he knows
far more about all of this than maybe even he’s aware.”

  “It isn’t lack of awareness,” Dad admitted. “Denial is a very powerful tool.”

  “I’m curious how you really ended up married to her,” Crevan said. “I know what Helen told me, but I find that hard to believe. Who gets married for convenience?”

  I burst out laughing. “Really Crevan? You have trouble understanding that? You married a woman, and you’re gay.”

  We both suddenly turned to stare at my father.

  “Oh stop it,” he chuckled. “I’m not, but if you must know, I did rather enjoy having the appearance of that perfect life. Remember what I told you once, Helen? Find the American dream, embrace it, live it like you really believe it?”

  “So she was your philosophy in action?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, and look how that turned out. Not very well for any of us. Look at our lives, kids. I married a psychopath who tried to kill me and probably was having an affair with her step-father. You married a money launderer for the mob. And you, married a woman when you weren’t even sexually attracted to her. Fine examples of the American dream, all three of us. Well, not anymore for me. If it’s not what I really want, something that makes me happy, I want no part of it.”

  “Me too,” Crevan chuckled. “I’ll keep Alex, thank you very much.”

  “And what about you, Sprout? Are you finally ready to settle into this magnificent romance with your doting husband?”

  It was an excellent question. Niggling fear made me wonder if I’d simply settled for somebody else’s idea of the dream all over again. And wouldn’t it be just my luck to fail spectacularly a second time?

  Chapter 32

  I went to bed at two in the morning when it became apparent to me that Johnny wasn’t coming home any time soon. It felt like I was asleep the moment my head touched the pillow. All thoughts of the disturbing conversation with Dad and Crevan earlier fled. I was too exhausted to worry about little old Tilly and what she saw or the fact that Johnny was probably out working with David Levine trying to determine the identity of the murder victim wielding a high powered rifle with Lyle Henderson in his sights.