An Unfinished Life

by Wasowski, Mary

  “Sir, here are your credentials while you’re here in LA. Use both forms of ID when entering the building. You will have to go through several more security checks upstairs before meeting with Director Wade.”

  “Fine. Lead the way,” I said.

  The very efficient agent practically escorted me right to the door.

  “Has my captain arrived yet? Captain Duffy? I was told he would be joining me here.”

  “He called, Mr. Paulson, sir, but unfortunately he has been delayed back in New York.”

  “I see. I guess I’m on my own then.”

  “Agent Paulson, you can wait for the director in the conference room. Shall I get you anything? Coffee?”

  “No, thank you.”

  My head was pounding. I was in no shape for this meeting today. I just wanted to crawl under a rock and remain there until my mood changed, but work always comes first. My phone beeped with an incoming voicemail. I hit the button and listened to the message.

  “Jacob, this is Duffy. Keep your head clear today and your eyes focused on the bigger picture. When I can, I will be in touch.”

  It wasn’t like my captain to be vague with me, but knowing him, there was a hidden meaning behind his words. He was very much like my father. Maybe that was why we got along so well. The door opened and closed behind me. I pocketed my phone and turned to meet the director.

  “Hello, Agent Paulson, I’m Director Timothy Wade. Happy to have you join us here in California.”

  “Thank you, sir. The pleasure is all mine. Shall we get down to why I’ve been called here?”

  “Well, you certainly live up to your reputation.”

  “Pardon me, Director Wade, but I’m not sure what you are referring to.”

  “Don’t you, Paulson? You’re all about business. Cut and dry, black and white.”

  “It’s worked for me so far.”

  “I’m sure it has, but I prefer my team to behave as such…a team. You’ve been the lone ranger for far too long now, and it’s time to change what has worked so far.”

  “Excuse me, Director, but what is this? I do not need a lesson on how to behave on a team. If you know anything about me at all, then you know my background. I have successfully led my task force team to solve more cases than any other agent you have on staff and just recently wrapped up the Bornarelli case in New York. If that’s being a ‘lone ranger’ as you call me, then so be it, but don’t ever question my work ethic again.”

  “Fair enough, Paulson. I was testing the waters, and you passed with excellence. Keep that temperament of yours in check, especially here while we work together. Any other agent who takes that tone and speaks to me like you just did would have been thrown out on their ass, but I will make this one exception for you.”

  “Why, sir? What makes me different from the rest?”

  “I’ll answer that for you,” said a man who had just entered the room.

  I questioned, “And you are?”

  Wade responded, “Settle down, Paulson, this is not the Spanish Inquisition. This is Director Dante Marino, from the Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch.”

  “Sir, pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Agent Paulson. Your captain speaks very highly of you. I’ve been looking forward to speaking with you and getting to know you better.”

  I guessed that this was what Duffy was referring to in his voicemail. This guy reeked of trouble, and for some reason, I interested him. He walked over to Wade and shook his hand.

  “Thank you, Director Wade, for this opportunity.”

  “It was no trouble at all. I’ll leave you two to get to know one another better, and we will resume in the briefing room in one hour with the team.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Marino responded.

  Director Wade exited the conference room, and I was left with Director Marino, who I still knew nothing about nor why I was here. He walked over, opened a cabinet containing a hidden bar, and fixed himself a drink. He turned to me and raised his glass.

  “Pick your poison, Paulson: scotch, vodka? What will it be?”

  “It’s a bit early for me, thank you, and I have a feeling that I will need to remain clear-headed around you.”

  “Blunt, I’ll give you that. Fine. Have it your way, Paulson.”

  “Director Marino, you say I’m blunt—well, that’s a fair assessment. Therefore, I won’t mince words with you. I feel like this is some sort of cat and mouse game, and I’m the bait. What is this? Why don’t you just say what you have to say, and be done with it?”

  “Eager as ever for information, Agent Paulson…” He smirked at me as he took the last gulp of his drink, quickly filling his glass with another. “It’s too bad you weren’t this eager to solve your fiancée’s murder.”

  What the fuck!? The mention of Minela made me see red. I don’t know what came over me, but I leaped out from where I was sitting and charged at Marino, like my old football days when I ran the field and took out my opponents with little effort.

  “Who are you? What the hell do you want from me?” I screamed.

  Instantly, my hands were wrapped around his neck as if any moment I could snap it in half. He gritted his teeth as he spat obscenities to me.

  “Get your fucking hands off of me, Paulson, or I will have your shield quicker than your head will spin.”

  I dropped Marino, and he fell to the floor like a rag doll.

  “Fuck you, Marino. What kind of game are you playing here?”

  “No game, Paulson. This is as real as it gets. Now that I have your undivided attention, how about that drink?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Fine, have it your way,” Marino said as he got back up and rubbed his neck.

  He paced the room as he said, “I’ve been reading your file. Quite impressive. You graduated at the top of your class at Northwestern. Then from college, straight to the NFL, even claiming all the glory with being the MVP in your one and only Super Bowl. Too bad, it all ended. You showed such promise for an amazing and lasting career. But your brothers are still in the game and doing quite well.”

  He continued, “Then, instead of staying in the limelight and reaping the benefits of all those flashy endorsements, you just simply walked away and became a good ol’ cop, NYPD to be exact. Wow! Paulson, that even impressed me. You worked the streets for no more than a year, and you made detective in the Intelligence Unit soon after that. Again, wow! I’m not a man that easily gets impressed, but you, Paulson, kept surprising me with every page I read.”

  “I’m happy to serve as entertainment value for you, sir, but I have more important things to deal with than listen to you go down memory lane about my career.”

  “I can assure you, Agent Paulson, I was entertained. You’re not just any cop; you are a highly accomplished one, and one that proves useful to me.”

  “Director Marino, I work for the United States Government, not you. You’ve wasted enough of my time, and now I am needed in the briefing room. If you will excuse me.”

  “Oh, I assure you, Paulson, you will be working for me very soon. Director Wade will explain everything to you, and then we will talk again. Next time? Keep your hands off my neck; I rather like it.”

  I left the conference room and the smug sonofabitch that was smirking at me. This was the most bizarre morning of my life. Why the mention of Minela? He was baiting me, and I took it: hook, line, and sinker.

  The career I worked so hard for could have ended the minute I put my hands on Marino. But he didn’t flinch. It was as if he knew exactly what I would do. I showed him my one Achilles heel, and this asshole would stop at nothing to use it against me, but why?

  I splashed some cold water on my face and composed myself. I couldn’t be going off unhinged again and attacking my superiors. I’d never crossed the line for as long as I’d been a cop, but this guy pushed all my buttons. I had no connection to him whatsoever, so what did he want with me? I was called here by my boss
to meet with Director Wade on a mystery case, which I’ve yet to hear about, and it was not sitting well with me at all.

  No time like the present, I thought, as I walked into that briefing room like I’d done hundreds of times before and tried to begin this day over. The briefing room was busy with agents giving statuses to their current cases. Director Wade was front and center commanding the room. He took notice of me immediately, and then went back to addressing the room. I took a seat in the back and listened in.

  “Come to order now. Let’s get to it. We have a lot to go over. We have visiting guests here from New York, so please welcome Director Dante Marino, and Special Agent Jacob Paulson. Please welcome them both to our team. Their individual talents will serve useful as I brief you to why you are all here. Please direct your attention to the screen. The body of Michael St. Clair was found in the laundry room of the California State Prison, Los Angeles County. He was determined deceased by a single stab wound to his heart.”

  “Now this name may seem familiar to you. Michael St. Clair is the son of former Paramount Studio President, Clayton St. Clair. It wasn’t national news, but young Mr. St. Clair was found guilty of the rape and sexual assault of Nicolette Vanelle. He was sentenced to serve a maximum sentence of five years. Too bad he didn’t make it. Both parties chose to keep this case off the national wire and it probably wouldn’t be on ours, but the game changed when he arrived in town. Gentlemen, meet Jack Vanelle. He’s evaded our agency for years, claiming to be a simple restaurant and bar owner in Chicago, when the truth is it’s just a front to hide who he really is.”

  “And who is he?” an agent questioned.

  “He is the one and only Jack Vanelli, former enforcer to the Carlucci family of Chicago. He made a name for himself back in the day when the local streets were overrun by the mob. We have never been able to place him in any connection to the Carlucci’s on paper, but word on the street is different. This guy Vanelli, now Vanelle, discreetly hides in the shadows and strikes when the right time serves.

  “And you think this guy, Vanelle, is involved with St. Clair’s murder?” the same agent questioned.

  “That’s what we are here to find out, and with the help of Director Marino, we will get our answers. That’s it for now, gentlemen. You are dismissed.”

  I sat there with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wanted out of this room, but Marino had his eyes trained on me as he talked with Director Wade. My first impression of this guy was spot-on. There was something about Marino that I didn’t trust, and after he mentioned Minela, I knew he wasn’t someone I cared to work with. But I feared my hands were tied.

  They looked engaged in their conversation, so I took the opportunity to step out and make a call, but I heard Director Wade call out for me.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I responded. “I was just about to make a call. Could you give me a few minutes?” I asked in the hopes that he would.

  “Jacob, before you do, would you mind coming back with me to my office? We need to talk, and it will not wait.”

  “Of course, sir,” I dutifully agreed, and we walked over.

  “Have a seat, son. I’m sure by now you understand why you’re here.”

  “I think I do, sir. It’s a major conflict of interest, and not just one or two, but many.”

  “I’m sure you see it that way, but I can assure you that this office will conduct a proper investigation. We don’t cut corners here.”

  “You may not, sir, but what about Marino? Is he willing to play by the same code of ethics? Because from what I have already encountered, I do not trust him, and I work with no one I don’t trust.”

  “I admire that quality in my agents, but you do well to remember to whom you are speaking to. I am your superior, and you will work with whomever I choose. You have a personal connection to the Vanelle’s via your youngest brother Simon, who is married to Jack Vanelle’s niece, Nicolette. An opportunity like this doesn’t always come along, and I will certainly take advantage of what we have.”

  “You mean me? Use my relationship with the Vanelle Family to get to Jack? I hardly know the man. I’ve met him only a handful of times. This certainly doesn’t constitute a relationship with the man.”

  “But you do know Nicolette, your sister-in-law, and right there is the in that you will need to get to Jack. This man is guilty, I know it. We just have to connect the dots, and we will prove our case and nail his ass to the wall.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This man—Wade, a man with an impeccable service record, a man I had respected for many years—was bulldozing me, and if I didn’t comply, I’d be the one that got burned.

  Fuck that! I didn’t play this way, never have and never will.

  “So what do you say, Paulson? Do we have a deal?”

  “No, sir, we do not have a deal. I will not work under the umbrella of your threat or anyone else’s. Find another scapegoat to do your dirty work.”

  “Paulson, this is not a request. This is an order. You don’t seem to understand what’s going on here. You don’t negotiate the terms. I do, and I am telling you that you will be the lead agent on this case—our case—against Jack Vanelle. Michael St. Clair savagely raped your sister-in-law. On the books, justice may have been served, but in the world of a wise guy like Jack, that act of brutality only gets avenged with an equal one. I’m telling you, son, Jack Vanelle avenged his niece by seeking out his own brand of justice with one single stab wound to the heart of her rapist. So, you tell me, Paulson…was justice avenged? Go ask Nicolette. See what she thinks. I’m sure she’s heard the troubling news by now.”

  I practically shouted at Wade, “This is my family we are talking about! You can’t expect me to just bring back all the pain my brother and his wife endured just so you can add another win to your list of accomplishments. I won’t hurt them like this.”

  He remained steadfast while I aired my grievances about this case. He never even flinched.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do for you, son. You get settled in and take the night to think about what we’ve discussed here today. Sleep on it if you have to, but I expect to see you here in my office at nine with your full intent and cooperation. Is that understood?”

  As he waited for my answer, he retrieved a glass from his hidden bar and poured himself a drink of amber liquid. I stood and fastened my suit jacket, making my way to the door.

  “Are we clear, son, on the matters discussed?” Wade asked.

  “We are, sir. Crystal clear. And don’t ever call me ‘son’ again. That honor is for my father, and my father only. Are we clear?”

  My hands were in my pockets with my fists balled up in fury.

  “Crystal,” he replied with a satisfied look in his eyes.

  Wade won this round with me easily showing him my hand. I couldn’t make that mistake again with Wade or Marino, not with the threat looming over my family.

  As for my father…so much for surprising my family with a long overdue visit. I needed him more than ever. I only hoped he could help me. Hurting Nicolette and Simon was the last thing I wanted to do, and going after her uncle would do just that.

  Getting in to see my father was no easy task without alerting his staff of my presence. I could have just called him, but I wasn’t ready for anyone else knowing I was in town, especially my mother or Simon.

  The only thing my father has changed through the years I’ve been away is the location of his office, which is now in downtown Los Angeles. Without traffic, I could be there in about twenty-five minutes. I hadn’t had time to rent a car yet, so I had a taxi drive me over.

  Gee, dad! It doesn’t get any more grandiose than the Aon Center, I said to myself as I took in the huge skyscraper before me.

  Since two of my brothers shared my face, keeping my anonymity was difficult at times. The only distinguishing factor that separated us was our hair. Andrew had a beard, and Cameron wore his hair very short. He had taken a fall a few years ago and needed stitches
. Once his wound was healed, he never grew his hair out, preferring the shorter look. I miss those guys so much, but I’ve also kept them at a safe distance. And although I’m not playing football anymore, I’ve managed to remain in athletic ready shape and still look exactly like them.

  My NFL career ended going into my second season playing for the Denver Broncos, my team from my home state. I was in my glory. How many players can say they get to be part of their dream team, play in their first Super Bowl, and actually win leaving with a ring? Not too many, but I can.

  This was my moment, a dream of mine and my twin brothers, who were also playing in the NFL. Our father couldn’t have been more proud of us. This was the dream we chased since beginning college at Northwestern University. We had a lot of things going for ourselves. One: we were triplets, and you don’t see that too often. Two: we were huge and could take out many opponents with a strong block or hit. Three: we loved the game.

  Having been scouted in our senior year of high school back in Boulder, Colorado, my father knew we would make it. We all showed promise and the drive to someday make it all the way to the NFL.

  For me, my dream ended with a career ending injury that would cost me more than football, but my eyesight. I had taken some tough hits throughout my college playing days and the first year in my professional career, but true to form, I was stronger in mind and could take the body hits.

  Then came the game changer…the one hit that changed my life.

  The force behind the attack was fierce, coming out of nowhere, and he was unforgiving. I had just made the game winning touchdown, and before I could even celebrate my victory, I was hit, and hit hard. My body skipped across the end zone as easily as a stone skipping across a pond. My head snapped back and hit the ground at full speed, and then there was just darkness.

  Whispering voices were all around me. I heard the beeping sound of machines and the door opening and closing. Someone was holding my hand, and then I felt her tears. I knew it had to be my mother; no time for a girlfriend back then since my life was all about football.