Forgotten Place

by LS Sygnet

  Finally, David spoke. "Helen, I'm so sorry. I hope you know that I have never doubted you."

  My ability to breathe had constricted to a high pitched wheeze through my tightened throat, I was sure. Johnny, you fool. You brilliant, magnificent, loyal fool.

  "If the fact that I loved her enough to learn the one thing she would never ask of anyone cost me a relationship with her, but I will never regret it. I had the honor of telling her that Wendell loves her and that he doesn't blame her for walking away from him. Now if that conversation truly warrants the attention of the almighty FBI, I'm sorry. You all are a more fucked up organization than I ever believed. But don't expect me to apologize for using a legitimate purpose in seeing Wendell Eriksson to offer a little peace to a woman I will simply love for the rest of my life."

  David cleared his throat. "This was quite unexpected, Johnny. You made your point, and you are correct. It was a perspective in all of this that I'm certain no one has ever considered. For that, I owe Helen my deepest apology."

  I knew if I moved, I would crack and shatter into a billion weepy pieces. The only glue holding me together was the truth. Johnny's ability to craft fiction on the fly was impressive. But I couldn't let myself believe for one second that it was more than very creative bullshit he spouted off the cuff to explain why he visited Wendell. Like me, Johnny had to know how far Wendell would go to protect me. If approached, Dad probably refused to talk at all.

  "I feel foolish," David said. "I thought I was protecting you, Helen."

  Speech locked in frozen vocal chords.

  "I owe you an apology too, Johnny. Clearly you have an insight with Helen that those of us who have known and loved her for years lack."

  "Apology accepted. I think in light of what you've learned tonight, whatever this Agent Ritter wanted to ask her has been revealed."

  "Yes," David said. "Am I at liberty to share the gist of this conversation?"

  "Tell 'em the whole damned thing," Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. "I have absolutely no regret for my actions, nor are they classified secrets."

  I on the other hand, continued to marvel at his bravado. Iron will with nerves to match. Had I ever really deceived Johnny Orion? Somehow I doubted it.

  "Helen, when you called Wednesday, you said you needed a favor."

  True enough. I wasn't sure I could speak.

  Johnny didn't give me a chance to flounder. "We're working a new case that could, if all goes well, result in the arrest of Danny Datello on charges that not even he can worm his way out of. We need to know if the man he hired to assassinate one of our officers of the court has ties to the Marcos family. It's a missing piece of information that's important to how we proceed in the investigation."

  "Of course. What's the name? If I know it, I can get the information to you that confirms the link."

  "Southerby," Orion said.

  "Mitch Southerby?"

  Johnny and I stared at each other. We had our link, but no idea how damning it really was.

  Chapter 28

  My voice returned quickly enough. "You've heard of him? In relation to Sully Marcos?"

  "I should say so, Helen. But I haven't heard the name Mitch Southerby in years. We presumed that his disappearance had more to do with Sully finding out he had become a confidential informant for the FBI. This man is in Darkwater Bay right now? In your custody?"

  "Oh my God," I breathed. "Johnny –"

  "Now we know why he died, on whose command Southerby met his fate, don't we?"

  "What do you mean? This man was killed before you could apprehend him?"

  "Oh no," Johnny shook his head. "We extradited him from New Jersey almost sixteen years ago, Agent Levine. He confessed to killing one of the assistant district attorneys in Bay County, and promptly keeled over dead in an interview room."

  "Unbelievable. How was his death not known? ViCAP had a number of cases that identified him as a person of interest."

  My hand crept to Johnny's thigh. "Lowe. It had to be Lowe, Johnny. Brighton Bennett's case was never entered into ViCAP either. He wasn't ignorant of that database. He simply did everything in his power to make sure nothing that happened in Darkwater Bay made its way into the system."

  "I'm confused," David said. "You're working a sixteen year old case?"

  "Yes and no," I finally found my voice and spoke to David directly. "His daughter was recently attacked in a parking garage. She survived, but the irony was too much to be coincidental. Her father was murdered in a parking garage, by Mitch Southerby if his confession was to be believed, sixteen years ago Monday, the same day his daughter was attacked."

  "Why?" His forehead wrinkled deeply.

  "We believe that David Ireland was investigating Datello, that he had some sort of incriminating evidence against him. As to the question of attacking Journey all these years later, we're not sure, but Helen thinks that Southerby didn't find this evidence sixteen years ago. It's complicated."

  "Sounds like it," David looked at me. "Helen, do you think Datello is worried that the evidence still exists?"

  "That's the prevailing theory. It seems like the timing of this attack might be related to Journey's decision to hang onto the family home. Her mother is chronically ill and running out of money. If Datello believes what Ireland had against him is in the house, he might be eager to get his hands on it."

  "Why not break in and steal it, or simply burn the place to the ground?" David wondered. "He can't possibly believe the only option available is to purchase the home."

  "There's another possibility," Johnny said. "It's remote, but Journey might know something that she doesn't even realize."

  "Helen, have you asked her?"

  "Well, that's another complication," I said. "She's suffering from conversion disorder. Whoever attacked her, slit her throat, and even though there's no physiological cause for her inability to speak, she can't even muster a whisper. We tried asking questions and having her write answers, but she's blanked out what happened that morning, at least the part of what happened that would be of value to our investigation."

  "Are you sure?"

  Johnny scooped up my hand again. "Helen prevented him from killing Journey outright. She was on her way home from physical therapy and intervened. If you think she looks rough tonight, you should've seen her Monday. A good puff of fog would've sent her airborne. She didn't hesitate, though."

  David's mood turned paternal. "You lied to me, Helen. For weeks you said your recovery was progressing well."

  "Let's not get bogged down in semantics. Tell me about Southerby's agreement to become a confidential informant and what sort of information he passed on to the bureau."

  "Nothing of consequence as I recall. We started getting calls in November that year –"

  "Which year?"

  "Before Southerby died. For approximately thirteen months prior to his disappearance, the cryptic messages were delivered. We joked about them at first, that this guy fancied himself some kind of deep throat. He claimed to have names and dates, coordinates in latitude and longitude that would allegedly produce dozens of victims who vanished at the hands of Sully Marcos and his assassins."

  "And somehow this led to Southerby?"

  "Not at first. He was very cagey, calling from phone booths all over the country. About a month before he fell off our radar, he made the mistake of calling from a cellular phone from Darkwater Bay."

  "That must've been about the time Datello decided to engage his services before making sure he stopped calling to rat out Uncle Sully," Johnny muttered. "Son of a bitch didn't even know he was being set up."

  "I'm sure he didn't. Not if someone managed to kill him before he could implicate Datello," David said. "May I ask how he died?"

  All of Johnny's confident surety vanished on a burst of restless frustration. His knee started bouncing and one fist hammered out a regular off beat rhythm. "I'd be happy to tell you if we knew the truth." He explained the events of Southerby's death on the h
eels of former Chief McNamara's. "We can't assume that Southerby met the same fate as Harry," he concluded, "but it looks mighty damned suspicious."

  "And this medical examiner you believe was complicit in the murder of Mr. McNamara, he's still in Darkwater Bay?"

  "We've got detectives looking for him," I said. "The last we knew, they hadn't found him in the usual haunts, which I suspect might be my fault. If I hadn't let Jerry Lowe know that I wanted to talk to him, he would likely be exactly where he's been for the past eleven months."

  "This is a suspicion I haven't shared with many, because evidence that Datello remains a favored member of Sully's circle contradicts it, but you might want to consider that there is bad blood between the two," David said. "I found it unusual that Danny would return to his roots in Darkwater Bay after he finished his stint in college. It appeared, with his background in corporate law, that Sully was grooming him to function in one of the many corporations he uses as a front for his illegal activities. Add to that that Danny never really seemed to accept that a rival family assassinated his father, and it seemed to make sense that his decision to defy what Sully planned for his life might've been based on animosity and not the true sense of independence."

  "He has touted the fact that he has nothing to do with his eastern brothers rather strongly," Johnny agreed, albeit reluctantly.

  I bit down on my tongue before the impulse to share that Rick's murder would've only served to sever Datello's loyalty to Marcos, particularly since it looked like Sully had his main guy Franchetta kill Rick. If David didn't know that my ex-husband shared a family tie to Danny, it was best not to mention it now.

  "So by that token, if Southerby feared that Marcos suspected him of luring the FBI into following evidentiary breadcrumbs, it might explain why he showed up in Darkwater Bay as well. From what we know about Danny Datello, there is absolutely no history of him reaching out to Sully for help."

  Johnny drummed his fingers on his knee. "Do you remember specifically what cities these deep throat tips came from, Agent Levine?"

  "Sure," he nodded. "A couple from Chicago, three from Los Angeles, and maybe half a dozen from Miami. We were able to confirm sightings of Southerby in all three cities, but nobody could or was willing to go on the record and definitively state he was there. At the time, and given that we confirmed that the cell phone belonged to Southerby, it seemed conclusive enough."

  "Then there was never a true confidential informant arrangement made?" he asked.

  David chuckled. "Like I said, the guy seemed to fancy himself as a modern day version of deep throat." He turned to me. "You know how these guys are, Helen. The bragging, the machismo, they're legendary if only in their minds."

  "Dare I ask how the case against Marcos and Franchetta is progressing?"

  "Legal wrangling," David said. "Whatever caused the explosion that revealed the gun that probably killed Rick was a stroke of luck for the good guys, Helen. I doubt all the posturing in the world will stop the coming storm for poor Sully. When Homeland Security starts digging, they simply don't stop, nor are they required to jump through the hoops we must respect. On the contrary, all of that flies out the window when the dreaded terrorism threat is mentioned."

  "So if we get close to Datello now, we shouldn't expect Uncle Sully to send out the cavalry?" Johnny asked.

  "Assets frozen, bail denied, family out here scrambling to distance themselves as fast as they can, no. I wouldn't worry about Marcos pulling a single string at all." David paused. "I need to know if you're certain that this Jackson drug and militia ring is separate from Datello. If there's even a remote chance of a link –"

  "There isn't," Johnny said. "The Jackson's were homegrown nuts. Delusional and grandiose, yes, but they weren't connected beyond a nomadic biker gang that liked to sell methamphetamine."

  "Are you heading back west tonight? I thought we could have dinner, catch up a bit, Helen."

  "I'm sorry, David. We really need to get back," I said.

  "What I can give you is a few minutes alone with Helen," Johnny offered. "If, that is, you know if the Asian restaurant has a takeout menu?"

  David smiled. "Excellent choice, and yes, they do. You'll wait about twenty minutes unless you're ordering surf and turf. I'll have Helen up the dock shortly."

  I stared at my hands and waited until Johnny's footsteps faded away. "So, how huge of a lecture am I in store for now, David?"

  "None at all. I really am sorry that I didn't see what was going on with you all these years. I'm glad Johnny blurted it out tonight, although I suspect you were just as stunned by his insight as I was."

  Sheer force of will strangled my tongue into a silent knot.

  "Helen, whatever made you angry with him, you should seriously consider forgiveness. It's clear to me that he loves you very much."

  "Maybe once. I'm grateful for his friendship."

  "Honey," David reached over and clasped my hands in his. "Did you miss the part of the conversation where he said he would love you for the rest of his life? Don't doubt him. I'll admit, I was dismayed when I saw him with you tonight, because frankly I was worried that he betrayed you, going to see Wendell the way he did. But it's something that I'm glad someone did for you. And honestly, there is no reason under the sun that should prevent you from seeing your father for yourself. If I had known all these years how you really felt, I would've facilitated it years ago."

  "What Johnny said, about reconciling what he did with the person I... I love, I'm not sure I've figured out how to do that yet."

  "I'm pretty sure you've got somebody to help you figure out how to do that, Helen. You know, when I found out you relocated to Darkwater Bay, I was certain that the end of the world had to be coming. I thought your career was shot for sure."

  "I remember. You said Darkwater Bay was a career ender because nobody survives the corruption out there."

  "Uh-huh. How Johnny Orion has stayed off our radar all these years is a mystery."

  "Are you implying that he's part of the problem?" The hairs on the back of my neck bristled.

  "On the contrary, Helen. I think that if such a thing as fate truly exists, Darkwater Bay and Johnny Orion were yours. You mark my words. He'll turn that city around yet. I would imagine that Datello is running scared if he's got any inkling at all of what the two of you are capable of accomplishing together."

  Chapter 29

  The cream cheese wontons, golden scallion pancakes, spring rolls, egg fried rice and pad Thai noodles sautéed to perfection in peanut oil provided a welcome excuse to avoid conversation on the flight back to Darkwater Bay. I convinced myself that the roiling in my stomach was hunger. The clammy, trembling hands were the result of low blood sugar maybe, or the need for more pain medication. It had been three days since I had even a sip of wine. Alcohol withdrawal. That's what explained the tremors rippling through me.

  Outwardly, I managed my chopsticks like a pro. Not one stray grain of rice wobbled away before reaching my mouth. I munched the crispy spring rolls and dipped wontons in sweet plum sauce and pretended that there was no tsunami whipping my guts to mush.

  Johnny slid two pain pills across the table. "Are you hanging in there?"

  "Sure." I rolled my left shoulder upward. "It's feeling better every day."

  Silence descended, heavy and wet like Darkwater's weather. I reached for the last wonton, bumped against Johnny's fingers as he did the same.

  "Take it," he chuckled.

  "I'll split it with you."

  He stared at the table, fidgeted with his half of the wonton and readjusted in the seat. "Doc, are we gonna talk about what happened tonight? If you're mad at me, I completely understand, but I could not sit there and watch him tear apart what little –"

  "I'm not angry. I was probably more surprised by what you said than David was. I had no idea how adept you are at... creatively interpreting history."

  He frowned. "Is that what we're calling it?"

  "You skipped the part wher
e Wendell gave you advice on how to permanently divert suspicion away from me."

  "I never said –"

  "I know my father, Johnny. What happened, the events that revealed a weapon that appeared to have been tampered with to conceal the ballistics, the link to Marcos' business, it screamed my father's sticky fingers of influence. David is right about you. You're a good guy without the fortitude for criminal thought."

  "I'm too weak to save you on my own. Thanks, Helen."

  "You're too good to connive and plot and hatch out an evil plan like that without someone who knows how to play the game putting ideas in your head. I'm not angry with you. In the long run, you're a hero who performed a greater good that will never be attributed to you. If Sully was using that waste processing plant for terrorism, not even I can fault you for bending the law and exposing something far worse than the murder of a very bad man."

  "Except it wasn't murder, right Doc?"

  I dragged my index finger through the plum sauce and sucked the digit clean. "Rick killed himself long before that bullet entered his head. The second he decided to throw in with Danny's plan to woo a student on the FBI's radar, he killed himself."

  "Take your pain pills. You look tired. We've got some business first thing in the morning before we have to part ways and get ready for the gala tomorrow night."

  "I hope they have Riley Storm in custody by the time we get home. I want to have a chat with him in the worst possible way."

  "I know. Be patient, Helen. We're getting close to figuring it all out. Learning the truth about Southerby was another nail in Danny's coffin. I was thinking about what Levine said tonight. If this thing with Homeland Security has Marcos so wrapped up in his own trouble, it could be the inciting incident that prompted Datello to start looking for whatever David was investigating. He had to be nervous when Lowe was arrested, if not for some connection between the two of them, simply knowing that you're here and we know that Salvatore Masconi probably met with an untimely demise."

  "Let's just hope he didn't end up on Riley's autopsy table too," I said. "Nothing would surprise me right now. It seems like everything is connected to everything else. Wouldn't you love a case that has nothing to do with Danny Datello or ancient history?"