by LS Sygnet
He snorted. "Yeah, you just got a gang of men with four-score and seven brain cells among the bunch out for blood. Your blood."
"I'll send a check to pay for the damages to their bikes."
"And that ain't gonna smooth over their wounded pride. Those hunks-o'-junk on wheels weren't worth the price of the bill to tow 'em away, Helen. In the meantime, you could have sixty brand new motorcycles delivered with big red bows and it wouldn't be enough for that crew."
"They don't have the guts to come after me, Tony. I've rubbed elbows with bikers that make these guys look like choir boys. And why aren't you the least bit interested to find out what I learned?"
"I'm more interested in hidin' you before Orion gets here," he muttered.
I froze. "You called Johnny?"
"I didn't."
"Crevan," I hissed. "That meddling –"
"Scared shitless is more like it," Tony shook his head. "Crevan ain't exactly made of the sternest stuff, Helen. But he still sees himself as tougher than women. He about had a fit of apoplexy when Uncle Nooky described the perp we oughtta be lookin' for."
"How much time have I got?"
"The way Orion drives? Hell, he'll probably be upstairs before you can get to the door."
I took off at a dead run for the back lot at Downey. "Working from home for the rest of the night," I yelled over my shoulder. I paused long enough at the door to throw a grin back at Briscoe. "Thanks for the heads up."
There was no time to waste. The sooner I got home, behind the safety of the solid walls and gate, the better. It would buy time for Johnny to cool off before the inevitable confrontation took place. My cell phone rang twenty times before I got sick of it and shut it off. I made sure no one followed me through the gate before it rolled shut, parked in the garage and made sure the doors were dead-bolted before I felt air rushing into my lungs at full capacity.
My heart hammered wildly. Johnny was going to be livid, no matter how much time passed between the initial insult of my lies and when I could avoid him no more. Even though I shut off the cell phone ringer before I got to Beach Cliffs, it hadn't stopped the incessant calls. The light on the answering machine in the kitchen blinked an electronic version of epilepsy.
With more trepidation than I could remember evoked – even by Mark Seleeby – I pressed the play button.
"Helen, goddammit, pick up the phone. I know you're there. I know you're avoiding me, and we both know why. You may as well get this over with right now, before I show up with a battering ram an plow my way into your little fortress."
I unplugged the machine and shut off the ringers on the phones. Using the fax line for my primary mode of contact to the outside world, I called MSUH. The mobile clinic was an outreach program through the emergency department. Their director was out of the hospital for the evening, but the charge nurse was more than happy to give me the names and phone numbers at the hospital for the people in charge of providing services to the shelters.
"They'll be in the office at seven Saturday morning, Detective Eriksson. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"
"If you could transfer me to the hospital operator, I'd appreciate it."
A moment later, the phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Ken?"
"Yeah – hey, Helen, Johnny Orion just called here. He's looking for you."
I rolled my eyes. "Uh-huh. I heard. Is Maya awake?"
"Sure. She's worried to death ever since Johnny called. You wanna talk to her?"
"Please."
"Helen?"
"Maya, I'm fine. Johnny is overreacting." As usual.
"Did you really go into a biker bar tonight without backup? He said it's a wonder you didn't get killed."
"Honey, I'm fine. Do I sound like there's a hair out of place? I didn't call so you could give me the third degree. I wanted to see how you're feeling today. Did the doctor say when you'll be discharged from the hospital?"
"I spiked a fever this afternoon," Maya said. "My white blood cell count is a little higher than he'd like to see it, so they probably won't spring me from this joint until Monday now. I'm really bummed about it too."
"You sound like it. What did he do, let you have an extra day of fentanyl?"
"Nope. Today we are experiencing the joys of hillbilly heroin. I asked the doctor if I could have pot brownies tomorrow."
"Are they letting you eat real food today?"
"We have advanced to pudding and ice cream, but no Rocky Road yet. I'd kill for a double scoop of cookie dough right about now. Helen, are you really all right? Johnny said what you did was incredibly risky."
"But worth the reward. Not that any of my overprotective brethren are interested in hearing what that was. I figure I'll give them a night to cool down before the cold light of sanity opens their eyes."
"Was it good news, something that helped advance the investigation?"
"It was excellent news. For the first time, someone admitted to knowing and talking to Detective Cox."
"At the biker bar?"
"Yes. Apparently, he was one of the few quote-unquote homeless men that Uncle Nooky allowed through the front door."
"Interesting, particularly in light of how he died."
I filled her in on the bizarre situation at Dupree Farm, right down to the heavy artillery of security guarding the place. "Now tell me if you don't think we're really following the footsteps of Detective Cox. He had to have gone to Uncle Nooky's to find out if other people in the neighborhood had been approached by Denton."
"You really think that's where all of this is leading?"
"Think about it Maya. Doesn't it make sense that the injury that caused the death of our homeless men –" The doorbell rang. "Son of a bitch! He climbed the wall. That persistent bastard."
The rapid ringing was soon drowned out by pounding and the faint sound of my name being shouted.
"He's there."
"Dammit. I should've built a panic room," I muttered.
"You'd better go talk to him Helen. I have a feeling he's not gonna calm down until he sees that you're all right."
"He's trespassing."
"He loves you," Maya said softly. "Cut the guy some slack."
"If I haven't called back in ten minutes, call 9-1-1."
"Funny girl. Go kiss and make up with him. You know that's all he really wants."
Unfortunately, I knew better. A few little lies were snowballing into something that all the kisses in the world wouldn't make disappear. "I'm serious, Maya. Ten minutes."
I hung up the phone and approached the quaking front door with trepidation. "Stop banging on the door, Johnny."
"Open it, or I'll kick it in."
"You're too angry to have a rational conversation. Come back tomorrow."
"Dammit, Doc, open this door right now. Right now!"
The wood shuddered against his weight slamming into it.
"You break it, you buy it, Orion."
"You think I give a shit about a busted door? Let me in!"
"I'll open it on one condition."
"You're not in a position to negotiate after the stunt you pulled tonight. Now open the door."
"I'll kick your ass if you lay a hand on me, Orion. And I'll press charges for assault and…and breaking and entering and –"
"Helen. Open. The door."
Every instinct in me told me it would be a huge mistake to let him in. They also warned me that Johnny wasn't going away without a fight.
"You need to leave, Johnny. I'm not going to argue about what I did tonight. You can hate it and hate me for lying to you, and you can be as angry as you want. What I did needed to be done. If you care about your detective's murder being solved, what I did absolutely had to happen."
The rattling wood ceased.
Silence expanded into an oppressive force.
"Johnny?"
"I don't hate you."
"Can we please discuss this tomorrow when cooler heads prevail?"
"What you need to do is trust me."
"After you lied to all of us today?"
I sucked in a deep breath. Distance was for the best. "This is who I am, Johnny. I lie if that's what it takes to get the job done. I don't care who I have to lie to. If you want to know what's happening with the case, I suggest you talk to Tony. We're done talking now. Goodnight."
Silence. I slipped away from the door and went back to the fax machine and called Maya back. In the morning, I found the wilted bouquet of sterling roses lying on the front step.
Chapter 22
I was at Downey early enough to beat Briscoe and Conall, and in time to see Finkelstein unwrap her al-amira, fold it carefully and place it in a drawer in the office. I knocked on the door.
"Helen, I'm glad you're here early."
"You look very different in the al-amira," I said. "Are you Muslim?"
"Jewish," she said, "oddly enough, though my parents are both Muslim. The al-amira is a relic of my upbringing I'm afraid. I converted to Judaism when I married. Funny. The religion took, and the marriage did not." Shelly cleared her throat.
"I received a disturbing phone call from Johnny Orion last night, Helen."
I nodded. "Am I going to be permitted to tell my side of the story?"
"It's not necessary. His concern was rooted in the feelings he has for you. Even I see this much. What I cannot accept is that you went to this biker bar without proper backup. Knowing that Tony and Crevan were only a couple of blocks away mitigates your rash action only a little bit, Helen. You walked into a potentially dangerous situation alone."
"I felt that sharing that plan with anyone would have it shut down a second time," I said. "I wanted to talk to the patrons of that bar, as members of the community who know a great deal about what happens there, and Tony and Crevan refused to let me do it. I cannot operate under these conditions, Shelly. Either I'm here to gather information that helps solve crimes, or we're both wasting our time."
She pursed her lips. "I wasn't aware that they had refused an earlier request. Can you think of why they would do that?"
"Only one. I realize that my tenure at the FBI was very different than what I've done here in Darkwater Bay, and to a certain extent, I think that their desire to shield me from the dangers of this job is my fault. I told them that I didn't do the hands on part of investigation with the bureau."
"And that was less than accurate?"
I shrugged. "It was mostly accurate. We did go into the field when the situation demanded it, but a lot of the work I did involved review of cases that were stalling out for local law enforcement agencies. We did, however, assist in numerous open investigations."
"You know that Crevan and Tony are very close friends of Johnny's."
I nodded.
"And if Johnny wants them watching you like a hawk to make sure you're safe, there's no way either one of them would deny his request."
"Crevan wouldn't," a tiny smirk blossomed. "Tony on the other hand helped me get out of here last night before Johnny had the opportunity to object to my tactics in person."
"I believe he was duly impressed with your manhandling of Uncle Nooky. I've seen him, Helen. The man must weigh three hundred pounds."
"Once that weight is off balance, taking someone that size down is a simple matter of a law not even Uncle Nooky can defy – gravity. But try to convince Johnny of that. I promise you, Shelly. What I learned last night far outweighs any risk to my safety."
"Tell me. Preferably before Orion shows up demanding answers."
"One of the regulars at the bar admitted that Detective Cox also known as Preacher, was a regular. He was the only homeless guy that Nooky let drink in the bar from what I gathered. This source told me that he heard Cox left a couple of weeks ago to go work on some farm shoveling manure."
"And you think that was Dupree Farm?"
"Oh, I'm sure it was. Batshit Crazy came right out and said it was Dupree Farm. He also confirmed that the recruiter that hires the migrant workers out of Downey is Tom Denton. Dr. Tom Denton, the researcher who claimed to be working on some project involving telomeres when we met with him yesterday morning. Funny thing is, the FDA had no idea that Dupree Farm has any kind of research facility whatsoever, let alone were engaged in research regarding telomeres."
"All fingers seem to point directly to Dr. Denton and Dupree Farm."
"So far, yes. Tony and Crevan spent the afternoon with Charlie Haverston from Central Division. They too were able to confirm that Tom Denton picks up homeless men to work on this farm. Now given the nature of my foray into the dark underbelly of Downey last night, I didn't feel comfortable walking in flashing pictures of our victims or Denton, but the people at more than one shelter in Darkwater proper did identify Denton's photo.
"I put a call into the clinic at MSUH last night. I'm hoping to speak to the director of the outreach program that sends the van out to shelters in the city to provide medical care. I think that they might be able to give us a few legal names that will go with the faces of our John Doe victims."
"Excellent work, Helen."
"We're watching the shelters now," I said. "Jason Blake from Sixth Avenue Shelter said that Denton posted a pickup time for tomorrow night. My concern was that Denton is aware of our interest in his activities."
"So we're staking out shelters in advance of the known pickup time."
"Yes," I said.
"We've got a couple of shelters in Fielding too, Helen. I should probably make a call to the lieutenant over there and see if he can get a team watching those locations as well."
"I'd appreciate it. I think we have enough evidence that Dr. Denton has lied repeatedly to warrant an official conversation. What would be ideal is to catch him doing what he says isn't part of his job and hold him while he decides that cooperation is in his best interest."
"We can keep him for forty-eight hours without filing charges, Helen, but surely a man like Dr. Denton would know this. What's to stop him from waiting it out?"
Briscoe's voice cut into our conversation. "I'd say it would be a fine time for our material witness gag," he said. "After all, we'll have evidence that he's linked somehow to the very men who've been turning up dead left and right for the past ten months. We could insist that he be held indefinitely – for his protection, and until he decides to cooperate with our investigation."
"I don't know, Tony. The whole material witness warrant thing has been under judicial review because some think it amounts to little more than denial of due process in cases a lot like ours, where we have suspicion but lack evidence."
"I say we use it until some fancy-pants judge says otherwise. While he's coolin' his jets and tryin' to decide if it's in his interests to be helpful, we can stake out that farm and see what's what out there."
"It's far out of our jurisdiction, Tony," Shelly said. "That could be a problem."
"Not if we involve OSI."
Shelly glanced at me. "How would you feel about that, Helen?"
"Not particularly comfortable if he's talking about who I think he's talking about."
"I still agree that this case is gonna get too high profile way too quick," Tony said. "And uh…I have it on high authority that the commander in question left town last night."
"What? Why? Where did he go?"
Tony grinned. "Guess you should've opened the door and found out, Eriksson. Anyway, Darnell is gonna be over for a status update any minute. I'd suggest we have our ducks in a row before he yanks this thing outta our hands all together."
"Until we know for sure that there's something illegal, or linked to the deaths, we won't need OSI helping watch that farm," I said. "Jurisdictional concerns won't come into play unless we see a crime happening there. The investigation only links to Dupree Farm, but the case is in Downey's back yard. I suggest we keep it that way. For now."
Shelly waved her small Arabic coffee pot. "Out. Now. If I don't have some brew before Commander Darnell arrives, I may not have the fortitude to win the battle you've asked me to wage."
I followed Briscoe out into the squad room. "All right, Tony. What's really going on with Johnny? Is he really lurking around following me to make sure I'm not misbehaving in his twisted view of things?"
"Helen, I ain't gettin' in the middle of this. All I know is that he said he was goin' outta town for a few days and that he'd talk to you and explain why he left."
"Well, he didn't explain anything."
"Could it be that you wouldn't open the door to listen?"
"Don't you give me that look," I grumbled. "You were the one who helped me get out of here last night before he had the chance to chew my ass in public."
"Which you just had to tell him," Briscoe poked a finger in my face. "And thanks a lot for that, Helen."
"I never told him that!"
"Oh, you didn't insinuate that I knew what you were up to last night? I don't appreciate the riot act from a pup I taught how to do this job."
"I'm sorry, Tony. That wasn't what I said to him, not what I meant anyway. I was only stressing the point that I won't be the one talking to him about this case anymore. Or probably anything else."
"Don't go bein' hasty," came the gruff advice. "I never saw Johnny this wrapped up in worry before in my life, Helen. He might've overreacted last night, but his heart was in the right place."
"So scaling my wall was a bit out of line, eh?"
"He was pretty pissed off that you slipped away before he got to make sure you were all right. I surely wish the two of you would talk. This whole thing is gettin' blown entirely out of proportion."
"Where's Crevan?"
"Huh?"
"Your partner. Where is he? Darnell just walked into Shelly's office."
"Shit," Briscoe muttered. "Why do I have the distinct impression that this ain't gonna be a bit pleasant?"
"Because you're a very wise man, Tony Briscoe."
After the shouting match between Lieutenant Finkelstein and Commander Darnell ended with his stern warning to me that I owed both Downey and OSI more than the shenanigans I pulled on Wednesday, Darnell left Downey Division.
