Beneath the Cracks

by LS Sygnet

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Briscoe interrupted. "Since when did we ever lie to you, and since when did we ever ask without makin' sure you knew you had the absolute right to decline?"

  "I tried last night!"

  Forceful words made the burly detective cower just a little bit.

  "And when I even remotely indicated that I was less than interested in being part of this, you acted like I simply don't care if homeless men are being murdered – because they're homeless, so who cares? Wasn't that what you implied last night, Briscoe?"

  "I just figured –"

  "You could guilt me into do what you wanted regardless of how I feel about working with law enforcement again."

  "Helen, if this is how you really feel, Tony and I will meet with Orion. We'll take you home and go to him and get the information. Take some time. Think about what you want. If working with us isn't an option anymore, we'll respect it," Crevan said. "Nobody wants you feeling bullied into helping solve this case or any other."

  "Fine." I stomped past them and sat in the back of their unmarked car waiting for the ride home. Both men were uncharacteristically quiet as Conall drove through winding neighborhoods that eventually led to the cliff where my house sat waiting for my return.

  Briscoe muttered something to his partner, a what's this, when he approached the gated driveway. Another sedan blocked the entrance.

  My heart leapt into the back of my throat. "Thanks for the ride, guys. I've got this."

  "Helen, do you know –?"

  I didn't stick around for the rest of Crevan's question. I slammed the door to the Crown Victoria and marched across the street to another, with men in suits waiting for my return. There was no question necessary. I knew who I'd find inside.

  Mark Seleeby.

  Like I said. When it rains, it pours.

  The automatic window hummed and revealed his knowing smirk. It was a real gotcha moment for Seleeby, and he wasn't hiding it. "Nice digs, Eriksson."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I came to have a chat. Aren't you gonna invite me inside?"

  "Have you got a warrant?"

  "Do I have to get one?"

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared across the street at where Briscoe and Conall were still sitting in their car. "Yeah, Seleeby, I think you do need a warrant. I already told you if you wanted to talk to me, it wouldn't be without an attorney. Legally, you don't have the right to ask me questions outside his presence."

  "I hear Jerry Lowe's got a great criminal attorney, Helen. Maybe you ought to give him a call." Snickers rose from the agents in tow, neither of which included David Levine.

  So Seleeby had gotten rid of my protector and was making a second run at me for the murder of Rick Hamilton. It wasn't completely unexpected, but to say that I welcomed round two of life under the bureau's microscope was inaccurate.

  "You already searched my home. There's nothing in this house that I owned prior to moving to Darkwater Bay. Get your warrant. I'll fight it tooth and nail and slap you with a harassment suit just for fun, Seleeby. Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my property."

  "It's a public street," Seleeby grinned.

  "Not the part you're sitting on," I pointed to my driveway. "This is private property. You wanna stake out my house? Be my guest, but you'll do it from public land. At least until my lawyer can file an injunction barring you from continuing this harassment."

  "Good luck with that, sweetheart," Seleeby grinned. "We got the murder weapon. And guess who it's registered to?"

  "Screw you, Mark," I called his bluff. Got the murder weapon, huh? Not possible. Not only was the gun buried in sludge at the bottom of the Potomac, it was in various locations, left in numerous pieces. Dad taught me well. Oh, and it wasn't registered to anybody – except for the owner it had probably been stolen from. I held out my wrists. "Go ahead. Arrest me if you really have this evidence."

  He glared, but made no move to accept my offer of surrender to arrest.

  "That's what I thought. Now get the hell off my property, before I have the nice detectives across the street arrest you for trespassing."

  Eyes darted to the rear view mirror. "This isn't over, Eriksson. I'll be back – with a warrant to search this house too, and any other house you have lived in, slept in, or stepped foot in. Not even the corrupt jerks in Darkwater Bay can protect you from what you've got coming."

  Seleeby backed out of the driveway, paused long enough to salute Briscoe and Conall and sped away. Tony hopped out of the car and stalked across the street.

  "Give me strength," I whispered. His determined face, mixed with more than a fair amount of anger told me no amount of intimidation or threats or even feminine temper could forestall the coming tirade.

  "Who the hell was that? Were those Datello's boys?"

  Jesus. My forehead found its way into the palm of my hand.

  "Dammit, Eriksson, we ain't screwin' around!"

  "That was Special Agent Mark Seleeby from the FBI."

  "The…the fuckin' FBI?"

  "It's a long story, and I really don't want to get into all of –"

  "Well, you're gettin' into it," Briscoe huffed. "Open this gate. Puppy'll drive us up to the house and you can explain why in tarnation the FBI is pesterin' one of their former agents."

  "It's nothing, Tony. Please."

  "I said no. Either you talk, and I mean right now, or I'll call Orion over here and you'll explain this to him. Jesus Christ. That scared the hell outta us! And what were you thinkin', marchin' up to a strange car like that without a clue who was inside?"

  That was the rub. I wasn't clueless about who they were or even why they were here. "Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit." My fingers worked through worried furrows on my forehead like it might turn back the hands of time. Briscoe wanted answers, and from the look on his face, none of your business was not an acceptable one.

  Conall honked the horn. Briscoe gripped my bicep and half dragged me to the car. "Open the gate, Helen."

  I depressed the button on the remote. It felt worse than a man making his final walk to a death chamber. Think Helen! Come up with something rational that will explain why Seleeby is here, because you really don't want this discussion to –

  Conall's voice cut through the blanket of panic shrouding me.

  "He's on his way."

  "Who is on his way? What did you do, Crevan?" My voice leapt into the shrill soprano range. Did I think I felt panic before? Huh-uh. That was merely, gee, a big hairy spider just ran over my face concern. This was definitely panic.

  Briscoe's eyes darted over his shoulder to impale me. "You know who. Johnny."

  Dammit devolved into something decidedly more profane in my head, although my teeth clamped together hard enough to splinter enamel.

  Remain calm. What was that thing Dad always said? Oh yeah. Admit nothing, deny everything, demand proof. I don't owe them answers. Not Briscoe or Conall. Certainly not Orion. And I meant what I said to Seleeby. He can go screw–

  "How long?"

  Conall met my eyes in the mirror. At least that's what I thought he was looking at – me. "He's behind us right now. Said he's had the place under surveillance all day."

  "He's watching me? What for?" Outrage melted away some of my panic.

  Briscoe and Conall shared a look. The kind that says: we know something but we're not telling you. How long had this secret surveillance been going on? And what purpose did they have for spying on me?

  Oh God. Seleeby. That son of a bitch. My brain jumped into plot mode. How could I take him out without making myself look like more of a suspect than I already was? Too bad my mad bomber, Jim Daltry was already incarcerated. He did a decent job on my rental car four months ago.

  Orion yanked the back door of the sedan open. "Get out."

  Way too stern. Shit. To outthink the best minds at the FBI, to sidestep their every move, it was impressive. But to be taken by the morons in Darkwater Bay? Unacceptable. I glar
ed up at him.

  "Now, Helen." His eyes darted to the perimeter of my property. "You two keep watch."

  Briscoe pulled his gun, followed quickly by Conall.

  "This is a mistake, Orion. I already told Briscoe that the car in my driveway was occupied by FBI agents. They're no threat –"

  "Bullshit. In the house. Now, Helen."

  Protests accomplished nothing. I tiptoed into the realm of damage control. Think fast. How little can you tell him without raising more questions? Think, Helen, think!

  Orion wrested the key ring from my grip and opened the front door. "Give me the security code."

  "I most certainly will not!"

  "Helen."

  "Nine one three one nine four five," I muttered.

  He punched in the code and shut the door. "Well?"

  "I don't owe you answers. I don't owe you anything despite what you think now or thought in the past."

  "Fine. You don't want to talk? I'll do the talking for now." Orion gripped my arm and dragged me into the living room. A forceful move put me front and center on the sofa. "Over the past couple of weeks, we became aware that you've been under surveillance. Because these people were very careful in other words, we never were able to get photos of them, we've been unable to ascertain who they are."

  "I just told you who they are."

  "Yes," he nodded. "But why are they watching you so intently before reporting to Danny Datello?"

  Sometimes maintaining a bland expression is the most difficult thing to do. My relief had to be carefully hidden. Without realizing it, Orion had tipped his hand. The answers would be easy at this point.

  "There are things about me that you don't know."

  "Clearly. Start talking."

  "The FBI didn't just have suspicion. My ex-husband was guilty of laundering money for Sully Marcos."

  Orion dropped onto the sofa beside me and ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus. Well, that explains a lot."

  "Of course, because I was his wife, and an FBI agent, I had to have known what he was doing." Bitterness at the old insult crept into my voice. The slight was based more on the fact that I hadn't known that I married a criminal, not that he was one. "Even filing for divorce immediately didn't mute the suspicion of me."

  "But your ex is dead."

  Deep breath. Why won't this go away? "Yes, he is, Johnny." That's right. Play on his feelings.

  "So why are they pursuing this investigation? It's not like the guy can testify against Marcos from the great beyond…" Orion's voice faded. "Helen."

  "Yeah."

  "The Washington Post said it was murder. How exactly was he killed?"

  "He was shot once in the head in an isolated area of a state park outside D.C."

  "Christ. An assassination."

  In the stereotypical sense, yes. Why could Orion connect dots that even the bureau refused to see? I cleared my throat. "That was the prevailing theory at the crime scene."

  "You were there?"

  Do it, Helen. Convince him how much pain this still causes you. My eyes lifted, and I allowed the frustration to evoke something from me that seldom ever appeared. Tears. "He was my husband, Johnny. What he did broke my heart, but I still love him." Hard swallow preceded breathy whisper. "Loved him."

  Ready. Aim. Fire. Kill shot.

  Orion's eyes fluttered shut. "I see."

  "Do you?" My hand crept across the narrow gap between us and touched his hand.

  Johnny shot off the sofa and started pacing. "Sure, it's pretty clear what's going on now. The feds are trying a different route at Marcos, this time through his scumbag nephew."

  Logical. I liked it. Better yet, I could work with it.

  "That doesn't explain why they're watching you." He pinned me with a hard stare. "Nor does it explain why Crevan thought you were surrendering to those agents, Helen."

  "They pissed me off. Seleeby said things. I called his bluff."

  "Hmm."

  "Johnny, there is no mystery to this, at least not for me. I'm completely familiar with Seleeby's lame tactics. He can't let it go that Marcos got to his best, quickest shot at building a case against the family when Rick died. Now he's turning to the next best thing – me. He's determined to prove that I knew about my ex-husband's illegal activities, and therefore can be the surrogate he uses to finally arrest Marcos."

  His eyes narrowed. "Then why tip his hand with Datello?"

  Good question. Bad truthful answer. Could Seleeby have somehow uncovered the family connection between Rick and Danny Datello? No way. If he knew, he'd have arrested me without telling a stupid lie about evidence I knew he didn't have.

  I opted for truthful this time. "I have no idea."

  "Bullshit."

  "You think I'm lying?"

  "Not exactly, but I'm convinced there's more going on than you've told me, Doc."

  The hated nickname was a panacea to my soul. Anger gone. Suspicion yielding to trust. The Johnny Orion who wanted in my pants was about to rush in on his white steed and save me. One little push in the right direction was all it would take to make sure his doubts evaporated. I rose and stepped in his path. One hand stroked down his chest.

  "Johnny…"

  He anchored my chin with the tip of his index finger. "Do you still love him? Is that why you…I shouldn't have pushed last night, should I?"

  It hurt to see the sincerity and regret swirling in the deep blue eyes. Conscience seemed to resuscitate in such close proximity to Orion. I felt guilty for using his feelings to my advantage, glossing over the fact that he's been stirring something genuine in me from the day we first met.

  "It's very complicated."

  "I get that, I really do."

  "But?"

  "I'm not sure you understand that you don't have to face all of this alone. It doesn't have to be you against the entire FBI. You don't have to grieve for Rick alone either, Helen."

  A wave ov bile crested in the back of my throat. The very notion that I felt anything less than elation that the bastard was dead repulsed me. For God's sake, don't show it, Helen. I took a deep breath and said, "These aren't your issues."

  "No, but they're the problems haunting someone I happen to…to care about very much. Helen, I can't stand to see this eating you up inside. And don't tell me that you're handling it. You're not. You spotted those PI's Jerry Lowe had following you around without batting an eye. But you didn't see the FBI watching you for nearly two weeks?"

  I hadn't noticed it. Maybe rejecting the lessons of my father hadn't been such a good plan after all. It dulled my senses, made me vulnerable to a surprise by Seleeby. I took a mental step back toward the Gospel according to Wendell. "Why have you been watching me?"

  "I wasn't," Johnny muttered. Yet I saw the deception flicker in his eyes. "I was trying to respect your request for space. Then all of a sudden, some new activity starts with Datello, and bingo. I realize you're being watched. I thought they worked for him, not the government."

  "Oh." And just that quickly, Dad's guard went up in my arsenal of defenses.

  "I wanted to tell you, but Crevan thought it might be better while we worked on figuring out why Datello was interested in you all of a sudden, if we tried to keep you engaged with cases at Downey. That way –"

  "I had built in body guards." I sighed and resumed the forehead massage. "I wish you'd come to me and told me the truth from the beginning. It would've been far more helpful if I'd seen Seleeby coming today. Hell, I could've called David and found out what he was doing."

  "And you believe Levine would've told you the truth?"

  "David and I were very close friends, Johnny. He would've told me. In fact, if he'd known about any of this, he would've called me. If I'd had a heads up, David could've started questioning what Mark was doing before things got to this point."

  "I suppose that means you plan to drag him into this."

  "I can take all the help I can get, apparently," I muttered.

  "Except from me."

/>   "Johnny, that's not what I said or meant. David is merely –"

  "I don't need to hear this."

  "I think you do. He's in a position to help put a stop to Mark's harassment once and for all. And if the bureau really believes that I'm the next best testimony against Sully Marcos, David will know. He'll level with me and not play games or try to intimidate me into cooperating with them. He is my friend, above all else."

  "And you really believe that?"

  I nodded.

  "All right. I won't interfere."

  "Johnny, I'm not rejecting your help."

  He snorted softly. "No, of course not. I just don't have the same clout as David Levine does. Even though my boss is the governor, who is pals with the president, who plays golf with him and the director of the FBI whenever he's in Washington. That makes no difference at all."

  "Seleeby needs to exhaust this or he'll never let it go."

  "So…we let him harass you?"

  "I wouldn't go that far. Eventually, he's got to realize that there is no evidence that I knew what my husband was doing because I didn't know. At that point, I'll demand an apology and tell him that if I ever see him again, I may be tempted to pursue legal action."

  Johnny gripped my upper arms and kneaded softly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you this before now. We were only trying to protect you, Doc."

  I stepped into the circle of his arms and rested my head against Johnny's chest. "I know. Thank you for looking out for me. In the future, it would be better if you told me someone was watching. Deal?"

  His chin rested on the top of my head. "Doc, I…yeah, it's a deal."

  Relief was the only thing that made me relax into the embrace. Yeah, this was just simple, run of the mill relief. I bought time. Now I had multiple balls to juggle, but the most important one had to be getting Seleeby off my ass before he inadvertently raised questions I absolutely couldn't answer.

  If today felt like pouring rain, tomorrow began the monsoon.

  Chapter 9

  After Briscoe and Conall were summoned inside, the rest of my cheesecake disappeared while Orion filled us in on his conversation with Jacob Cox two weeks ago. I kept glancing at my watch, wondering about Maya and feeling tentacles of guilt strangling me for abandoning her in her time of need. If only I'd insisted that she not spend the evening alone, none of this other mess would've happened.