by LS Sygnet
"What's that look about?" he mumbled around an orange slice.
"Trying to remember all of the stuff we reviewed. He had a lot of irons in the fire as I recall."
"I'll call Ned when we land. He spent more time on all of that work stuff than all of us combined anyhow. Are you nervous about this meeting with Levine?"
Was I? "I haven't thought about it much."
"It seemed like a bizarre way to get you to come out east for a visit. I won't lie, Helen. His tactics concern me."
"I trust him."
"Yeah, obviously."
Before we could continue to debate the trustworthiness of my mentor, the co-pilot appeared and asked us to prepare for landing. What little time remained before we met David would be spent pondering Johnny's paranoia. Then again, normal minded folks did get a little antsy when federal law enforcement officers wanted a face to face chat. I couldn't look at David that way, no matter how much of a threat he really posed to my freedom.
After the flight landed, Johnny rented a car at the airport and tossed the keys to me. "This place makes no sense to me. Since it's home for you, I figured I'd turn over chauffeur detail just this once."
The first thing I did was call David's personal cell phone. "Are you still at Quantico?"
"On my way home. Give me an hour or so, and I'll call with the meeting place."
"David, you're being very cloak and dagger about all of this. What's really going on?"
"I've been informed that if I share anything, my job is on the line."
My heart decided that now was a good time to enter the aerobic exercise phase. I swallowed the hard knot that materialized in the back of my throat. "Does such a secure location exist in this town?"
"Swapping out the car and the phone in a few. Talk to you then."
I clicked off and glanced at Johnny.
"That didn't sound good."
"David says his job is on the line if anyone finds out he talked to me, Johnny. You don't suppose they already know I've come back to town, do you?"
"It's Joe's jet, and there's no passenger list, Doc. If we had flown a commercial flight, sure they could know you're here. My concern remains the same."
"David wouldn't lie to me."
"So what do we do in the meantime, while we wait for David to get his ducks in a row with this secret, secure meeting place?"
"I guess we go to the one place I doubt anybody would expect to find me," I said. "My house in Georgetown."
My mind remembered the city as I drove on autopilot and navigated the heavy rush hour traffic in the capital from Reagan to Georgetown. I circled the neighborhood three times, taking note of vehicles that seemed out of place on the sleepy street.
"Satisfied that no one is watching or that we weren't followed?" Johnny asked on the third rotation.
"I'm using the alley," I said. "It goes directly to the courtyard behind the brownstone. There's a gate. The car should be narrow enough to pass through. There's an old carport that we converted into an arbor with trellis and whatnot. We can park under it, and the car won't be visible should anyone be looking from above."
"Geez, Doc. Did I make you paranoid? I don't see any Blackhawks lighting up the night sky."
"Satellites," I said. "Never underestimate the tools the government has at its disposal. If this is serious enough for David to be paranoid, you're right. I should take heed of that and exercise caution. There's the gate. The key is on the keychain in my purse."
Johnny tugged the gate open, and within minutes, we were standing in the frigid mudroom of my brownstone. I shivered.
"I suppose using the lights or starting a fire would be a bad idea," he said.
"The thermostat is in the hallway. Give me your cigarette lighter."
The tiny flame illuminated inches in front of my face, not that I needed it. I knew every inch of this brownstone even in pitch darkness. The light helped him see to follow, and let me adjust the thermostat so the temperature would rise higher than fifty degrees.
"We should stay away from exterior rooms with windows," I said. At the front door, I slid open a deep drawer in the long table that used to hold house keys, leather gloves and the purse I habitually dropped on its surface when walking through the door every night. I procured a slim flashlight. "Upstairs. There's an interior room that won't betray our presence. It'll warm up faster on the second floor anyway. Can you make it up without the light?"
"I'll manage."
The second floor consisted of four large bedrooms connected by a hallway. In the center of the structure stood the single bathroom shared by the bedrooms. It wasn't particularly large, but it provided the privacy we needed. I flicked on the flashlight and closed the door behind Johnny. Next stop was the large black vent on one wall of the bathroom. I adjusted the clasp, and a blast of warm air rushed into the room.
"You're still shivering."
"I forgot how cold snow is."
Johnny reached out and rubbed a few strands of my hair together, melting the snow clumps that had become trapped on the way from the car to the house. "Whatever is happening, we'll get through it. You know that, Helen, right?"
My teeth chattered.
"C'mere." Johnny tugged me by the hand and sat on the bench seat that lined one of the bathroom walls. He pulled me down between his thighs, opened his coat and wrapped it around both of us. "Better?"
"Yeah," but the shivering didn't stop. Johnny's arms tightened around me.
We didn't speak for a long time, until the silent spell was shattered by Johnny's ringing cell phone.
Chapter 27
David spoke quickly. "Meet me at the Jefferson Memorial in forty-five minutes."
"David, it's freezing outside."
"We won't be outside for long. If you've ever trusted me before, you must do so now, Helen. Meet me there in forty-five minutes. You must come alone."
His instructions confused me. The Jefferson Memorial, while possessing an interior in the strictest sense that its domed roof covered the interior, was by no means an indoor type of enclosure.
I pressed the phone back into Johnny's gloved hand. "I don't think we should go."
"Now you get a bad vibe about this?"
"I'm serious. Something is very wrong."
"Because he wants to meet outdoors in the bitter cold?"
"Because we're supposed to meet him at the Jefferson Memorial. He said we won't be outside for long. It's not an enclosed building, Johnny. He plans to take us somewhere else from there."
"Or he could mean that we'll be talking inside his toasty warm car. Come on. We came all this way and you didn't doubt his sincerity. Why now?"
"Because David has never told me that I must trust him before. Not once. Not ever. Not even when Seleeby was dogging my every move in Darkwater Bay."
"So that means you can't trust him now? You're not making any sense, sweetheart. Either you trust him or you don't. This is jitters, nerves you've severed all the way out here catching up to you."
"He wants me to come alone, Johnny."
"That's not going to happen. You've met his terms in every other regard, dropping everything and jetting out here on a moment's notice without any idea why he's pulling such a cloak and dagger routine. He'll have to accept the fact that I'm not letting you go anywhere without someone I know will look out for your best interests."
"What if this means he knows I'm not alone, Johnny?" The knot reappeared in my throat and wouldn't budge this time.
"Then he'll get confirmation in about forty minutes. How far is this monument from here, and how long will it take us to get there?"
"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes depending on traffic. We should go now and see what's going on over there. If it looks suspicious, I'll call it off after we're on the plane, taxiing for departure."
His chin propped on my shoulder. "Fair enough. You know I won't let anything happen to you though, right Doc?"
"I know you'd probably die trying."
The arms around
me tightened. "You're safe with me. Let's get moving. The sooner we talk to Levine, the sooner I can get you on that plane back to Darkwater Bay where I know I can see what's coming miles before it arrives."
I took a circuitous route to the Jefferson Memorial. The northeast wind had picked up since we took refuge in my brownstone. It whipped white dust devils of snow in the crisp night air. Other than that, the memorial appeared to be deserted. Johnny insisted that I let him out of the car on one pass behind the stone structure so he could check out the interior for anything lurking in the shadows.
On the second circle around the monument, he reappeared out of the midst of naked trees that looked like sinister monsters without their leaves. He climbed into the car.
"It's deserted, Helen. Nobody's there."
Before I could interrogate his thoroughness, his cell phone rang again. I jumped and dug it out of his coat pocket.
"Hello?"
"Jenny's Asian Fusion, off of Water Street. Park in the lot. I'll take you to the slip. Come now."
My eyes darted across the waterway to the docks on the other side. Boats. Yachts. Sailboats. Fishing boats.
"We're not meeting here after all, Johnny. The cagey bastard must've known I'd show up early. He's been watching from across the water. We're meeting on a boat."
"See? Nothing to worry about at all."
I felt his unease radiating around me, saw the tight line of his jaw, the narrowed and vigilant hawk eyes devouring the horizon. Johnny was as unsure of this meeting as I was, probably more, since my paranoia over David's behavior had only spiked in the last hour or so.
Across the bridge, I found the lot for the specified restaurant and parked. The aroma of fried something wafted into my nostrils. My stomach growled.
Johnny chuckled. "Depending on how fast we flee this meeting, maybe we could grab something to go. Your stomach rumbling is music to my ears."
I pointed through the windshield of the rental car toward the figure in a black wool trench coat walking up the dock. "There he is." I glanced to my right. "Maybe I should go alone."
He already jerked the door open and climbed out of the car. No way would anyone be able to miss the monumental frame guarding my safety. David saw it too. His step faltered for a moment, but he pressed on.
We met at the end of the boardwalk. David eyed me critically. "I thought you said you were doing well."
Even bundled beneath layers of wool and leather, my frailty remained obvious. "It's been a challenging recovery. You can surmise my concern over meeting outdoors now. I'm freezing."
He glanced at Johnny and nodded in silent greeting. "Let's go to the boat. It's not spacious, but it's warm and private. I see you nearly followed all of my instructions, Helen."
"You can say anything in front of Johnny, David. He knows everything."
An expression flitted over David's face, half suspicion, half chagrin. "Yes, I imagine he knows a great deal more than you realize, Helen."
I had to duck to enter the tiny cabin on the boat. David was right about the space on both counts. It was small but toasty warm. I peeled off my gloves and rubbed my hands together furiously for ten seconds before Johnny stilled them by clasping them between his.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
I nodded. Turned to David, "What's going on, David? Why would the bureau threaten to fire you for talking to me?"
A wary look turned on Johnny. "Because the FBI is more concerned with the company you're keeping than anything else right now, Helen. We don't want sensitive information falling on ears that have no business hearing it."
"Johnny?" I couldn't mask the shock in my voice. "But... David, he's the guy who put a stop to Seleeby's witch hunt. How can he go from bringing a dire situation to the attention of Seleeby's bosses one second, and someone to distrust the next?" My heart pounded so hard, I was sure David could hear it. This was exactly what I feared would happen when Johnny took matters into his own hands and framed Eddie Franchetta for Rick's murder. The urge to confess my crime and remove doubt regarding Johnny's good character overwhelmed me.
"That was," David jerked me back into reality, "before the FBI learned that Mr. Orion made an unauthorized visit at Attica Correctional Facility."
The early stages of hyperventilation began. Flared nostrils. Oxygen starvation screaming from every cell in my body. Revving respiratory muscles ready to jump into action.
"I made no secret that I went to see Wendell Eriksson," Johnny said calmly. "And why would it be permitted if such a meeting were truly unauthorized? I realize you feds like to throw your weight around, but you don't control the direction that other law enforcement officials take with regard to their investigations."
"And what pray tell could Wendell have told you about anything in Darkwater Bay?"
Johnny crossed his legs casually and reached for my floundering hand. "Because Wendell Eriksson is a yet untapped resource of knowledge."
"Relating to what exactly, Mr. Orion?"
Johnny's grin dropped the temperature in the small cabin by ten degrees. "Commander, if you don't mind, or if you prefer an informal conversation, Johnny will do nicely."
"Fine, Commander Orion. What would Helen's father possibly know about crime in Darkwater Bay, or anywhere outside the five boroughs for that matter?"
"Specifically? Nothing at all. Yet I got the distinct impression that Wendell knew just about every name in organized crime that played the game back in the day. Given my interest in Danny Datello and his blood tie to Sully Marcos, I shouldn't need to explain why I'd be interested in learning everything I possibly can."
"So that's why you met with Wendell?"
"Not at all, but that was the pretense I used."
I had to admire Johnny's bold approach with David. I was quaking in my Jimmy Choo's at the thought of toying with my brilliant mentor.
"Then do tell, why were you there?"
"Because I love Helen, and I could see how much it was hurting her, not knowing how he was. Oh," he added when David's jaw dropped in shock, "I won't deny that her feelings for her father are complex. By necessity, she has to hate him in part, doesn't she? That's what the world expected of her. But at the same time, he's still the father that loved her and nurtured her and applauded her piano recitals and made sure she learned martial arts so she could protect herself if the need ever arose. You don't simply cut an emotional tie like that because logic dictates it's the smart move, Agent Levine."
"She asked you to see him?"
"No," I rasped. "I most certainly did not."
Johnny grinned again. "Yeah, Doc lied to me and told me her father was dead. It wasn't until I read the report I requested from the bureau, the process by which she was vetted for service, that I realized the conflict that was eating her alive. I mean, you're a profiler, David. May I call you David?"
"I am a profiler." His gaze fell on me, dissecting in ways that were both familiar and uncomfortable.
"Here this woman is, working herself to the bone – literally – for an agency that prides itself on trusting no one and turning on anyone when it suits their whims, and she finds out she married some scumbag money launderer for Sully Marcos."
"Johnny, stop," I rasped.
"No, Helen. These sons of bitches need to understand what they did to you. It wasn't enough to put her under the microscope like she was a willing partner in his crime," Johnny said, "no, you had to sic Seleeby on her after the guy died." Johnny made a gun with his thumb and forefinger and held it to his head, miming what I told him happened to Rick. "Did anybody bother to check for gunshot residue on his hands?"
David's eyes widened. "If he killed himself, what happened to the gun? How did it get to Sully's waste facility?"
Johnny shrugged. "Maybe Franchetta was watching him. Maybe they saw it as a golden opportunity to make Helen look bad, or simply annoy Seleeby for being such a prick for all these years. Or maybe, Franchetta stole Sully's money himself and wanted to make sure that Rick wasn't around t
o expose it. I really don't care."
"Johnny please don't do this," I whispered.
"No, Doc. That little visit I made to Wendell cost me everything. I lost you because you were so pissed off that I butted into your life. The way I see it, I've got absolutely nothing to lose anymore. I may as well lay it out for our clueless federal cops."
He turned his attention back to David. "You see, Helen gave up everything she loved for the FBI. She denied herself contact with a father whose actions she condemned but whose person she loves very much. She denied herself the time necessary to process that subtle distinction. She focused on that career you offered her when she was still searching for an identity that would distinguish herself as more than nature and nurture determining that she had no choice but be the criminal her parents were. She clung to that identity you offered her to the exclusion of everything else, including her marriage, and then she was supposed to just shut up and accept it when the bureau pointed a guilty finger at her and insisted she should've known what Rick was doing."
Burning ache swelled in my throat and made it hard to breathe. How could he believe all of this? How could he know things that I felt but had never articulated into thoughts in my brain?
He wasn't finished with his tirade. "Instead of relying on the very process that made you determine that Helen was good enough to join the hallowed ranks of the FBI in the first place, you turned on her not once, but twice. Because God knows, Helen's the kind of woman who would never settle for divorce. No, after that, she had to decide that legally ending her ties to that douchebag ex-husband wasn't good enough. She must've preferred the death clause of the wedding vows."
"I never suspected her! Not of any of it."
"No, but when she stood at his grave, at the funeral that she had no moral or legal obligation to hold for him, you did nothing to stop Seleeby from accosting her then and there. And then you condemned her for throwing her career away."
David clenched his fist and pressed it to his lips. All three of us breathed heavily in silence.
