by LS Sygnet
Rick Hamilton. I groaned inwardly. What had they done, exhumed the son of a bitch trying to determine if my suicide story was plausible?
Soule sobered at my distracted silence. “I’m afraid I haven’t got very good news, Helen. Datello died on the table five minutes ago.”
“Our medical examiner –”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “We’re taking custody of Mr. Datello’s remains, especially since an allegation was made that he was essentially murdered by an agent of the FBI. It’s not negotiable. I presume that satisfies your sudden presence here.” Soule made another quick hand motion to the man who followed me from the stairwell. “Let’s get Dr. Eriksson back to an area where the public is allowed.”
Grief over my failure overwhelmed me, so much so, that I didn’t question why the FBI would be territorial over the remains of our murder suspect. I should’ve started questioning everything. It was yet another mistake in what was a list that now outnumbered the times I’d been right.
Chapter 16
Since Devlin and I were the ones who returned Sofia Datello to her mother, we volunteered to inform her of the unfortunate events this afternoon and the county jail. Volunteer might be a little misleading. It makes me sound willing to deliver crushing news to a woman who had already known too much sorrow in her short life.
Responsible would describe my motivation a little better. I failed to protect her husband. I ignored my gut instinct that something about Preston wasn’t right. I let David Levine lull me into a sense of false security that Preston was a harmless climber without the ambition to do something so extreme. The end result was the same.
I owed it to Celeste Datello to deliver the confession of my massive failure to her in person.
She checked out of Saint Mary’s hospital shortly after Sofia was returned to her custody. I couldn’t blame her. A hospital employee easily absconded with her baby once. No sane person would stick around for a second shot.
We drove in silence out to Hennessey Island. I knew what was eating Dev from the inside out. The fight he heard this morning was something I wished he hadn’t witnessed. He probably thought the worst of Johnny and me.
“Dev, about what happened earlier today –”
“No need to explain,” he said.
“You seem upset, and I think we should talk about it.”
“I feel like a fool. What else is there to say?”
“Devlin, you’re not a fool. Things are always more complicated than they appear on the surface. Johnny and I needed to talk without yelling, without overreacting based on some pretty wild emotions that I think were rooted in fear for both of us.”
“If the relationship is that complicated, maybe you should simplify things.”
“I’m not leaving him. I’m not kicking him out.”
“Yeah, he made that pretty clear this afternoon.”
“Please tell me he didn’t threaten your job,” I groaned. Johnny always harbored an irrational vein of jealousy toward him from the moment that I started working with Dev.
“No, he told me that what he had to say in no way applied to the job, and that I am a damned fine cop that he’s glad to have on his team.”
“But?”
“He said if I ever laid another hand on you, he’d tear it off and feed it to me.” He glanced sharply to the right. “It’s not funny, Helen. Next thing you know, he’ll be telling you that we’re not allowed to see to each other at all anymore. God knows, I might look at you the wrong way.”
“I shouldn’t laugh, but honestly, Dev. Do you think he’d really tear your hand off and feed it too you?”
“Looked pretty damned serious to me.”
“I have a feeling that his irrationality is gone,” I said. “There’s the hotel. Celeste is in the penthouse. Are you ready for this?”
“Not until you tell me why Johnny isn’t going to act like a raving lunatic if I accidentally touch you again.”
“Things have changed. I think he understands a few things now that he didn’t before.”
“So you told him I have no chance, even if he’s not in the picture.”
“No, I didn’t say that at all.”
“You told him I’m not your type.”
“Devlin,” I said softly. I reached for his hand, saw the flinch when I touched him. “I love Johnny. That doesn’t mean that I think you’re a troll. I don’t. If I’d met you first, who knows? That kind of speculation is pointless. I didn’t meet you first. Neither one of us knows what would’ve happened if I had. But with Johnny, the chemistry was undeniable from the very moment we met. He understands me in ways that I doubt anyone else could. Maybe my father knows me that well. Maybe.”
He nodded. “All right then. We can still be friends?”
“The best of friends.”
A tiny grin quivered at the corner of his lips. “I can live with that.”
“I don’t want you waiting for things to fall apart between me and Johnny anymore, Dev. You need to move on and be happy, whether it’s alone or with someone who can love you the way you deserve.”
“And who says I put all my eggs into one basket?” he smirked. “Don’t go getting a big head over this, Eriksson.
I doubted the veracity of his claim, based solely on the fact that I knew him so well. Devlin Mackenzie was an all or nothing kind of guy. One loyalty, be it to the job or who he loved or anything else. It simply wasn’t his nature to be deceitful.
No, that was a trait that Johnny and I shared. It might not apply to our feelings for each other, but there was never an instant of hesitation when a lie accomplished what needed to happen in the grand scheme of things.
I stared up the spire of Datello’s most lucrative accomplishment in Darkwater Bay. At the top lay a responsibility to the truth, one that not even I could justify deception to cushion the blow.
“It’ll be all right, Helen,” Devlin said. “What happened was not your fault. Even if Preston hadn’t killed him in cold blood, Celeste knew that the odds of Danny beating the charges against him in court were slim to none. They had no meaningful future together.”
“I know, but at the same time, incarcerated isn’t the same as dead. His daughter could’ve known him. Celeste could’ve had more time with him. There’s such a finality to death. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it quite this way before.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, talk about irony. How many deaths have I investigated? I buried my mother, my ex-husband, and yet this is the first time it feels so… personal. I failed this time.”
Crevan and Johnny pulled up behind us and waited. Johnny and I planned to go home after the news was delivered to a new grieving widow. Crevan and Dev would do whatever it was they did during down time. The plan was to congregate at my house for breakfast and plan the next steps in our covert investigation. There was far more to learn than what we had uncovered so far.
“Ready?” Dev asked.
“No, but procrastinating the inevitable isn’t the answer either. Let’s go.”
We rode in silence to the top of the towering building. I fidgeted. Dev remained stoic.
I rang the doorbell, though the front desk had to grant us access to the penthouse, so Celeste knew we were on our way upstairs. I expected her enormous blue eyes to take one look and realize why we were there. Accusations would surely follow, and probably even threats of lawsuits. No way around the truth. Her husband was murdered in cold blood while in the custody of law enforcement.
The door swung open. I startled at the unfamiliar face staring at us.
“Detectives, won’t you come in? I’m Destiny Gerard, acting CEO of Datello Enterprises. We felt in light of recent events, it would be prudent for Celeste to have someone staying with her.”
Frankly, my preference would’ve been that she mend fences with her family, but Celeste had no intention of abandoning her husband and pleasing her parents. Maybe now that was a moot point of conflict between them.
Dev sh
ook her hand. “Detective Mackenzie. I believe you should know who Dr. Eriksson is.”
“Yes,” a little frost fogged from her lips. “By reputation if not through a formal introduction. Are you here to follow up about this baby snatching incident?”
“No,” I said. “We need to speak to Mrs. Datello immediately, Ms. Gerard. Is she available?”
“She’s feeding the baby. If you’ll wait in the living room, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
We followed her into the wide open space of the penthouse. It reminded me very much of Johnny’s in La Pierre tower, only this was a home, very much absent Johnny’s bachelor, minimalist decor. It was warm, cozy even for a place that had no clear demarcation from one area to the next.
A fire crackled in a fireplace that stood out in the center of the living room as the focal point.
Dev gestured toward the sofa.
“I’ll stand,” I murmured. I wanted to pace. A certain amount of decorum and solemnity is required for a death notification. I’d never been very good at this part of the job, even when I remained emotionally detached from the official function. Something about the grief of others unsettled me. What could I say? There’s no way to cushion some blows in life. Typically, it stirred feelings of frustration in me. It was pragmatic, not cold. The families of the victims had information that could help me. If they floundered in grief, I couldn’t do my job efficiently.
This felt different. Ache and dread grew in the pit of my stomach. This empathy thing sucks.
Celeste drifted into the room, floated on a bubble of happiness that we would soon burst.
“Detectives,” she smiled warmly. Little Sofia was nestled in the crook of her arm. “I’m so glad you came over this evening.”
A second later, she deposited a child that was named for the woman her mother believed rescued her into my arms. Little Sofia squirmed for a more comfortable position in the unfamiliar arms and promptly jammed a tiny fist in her mouth to suckle.
My eyes were dragged from the tiny face back to that of the mother. “You look radiant, Celeste.”
“You gave me my life back today, Helen. I can’t ever thank you enough.”
“It was the least I could do for you,” I said. Guilt wrapped around my tongue and rendered me speechless for a moment. I owed this woman so much more than what she got.
“I still feel like you’re family,” she said softly. “Especially now. I know we never met before all of this unpleasantness with Danny began. Perhaps things might’ve been different if the three of us could’ve sat down and talked when you came to Darkwater Bay.”
Nothing would’ve undone the murder of David Ireland. Yet if a simple conversation could’ve prevented what happened to Johnny at the hands of Mitch Southerby, I would’ve done it. I would’ve been too tempted to leave Danny’s past buried – if he could’ve done the same for me where Rick was concerned.
Celeste’s smile faded. I thought it was because of the absence of the baby in her arms. I quickly transferred Sofia back to Celeste.
She sat down hard. “You’re not here to see Sofia,” she said softly. “Something else has happened. Am I right?”
I perched on the edge of a chair and peered at her. “I am so sorry, Celeste. I feel like a complete failure, and I hope you believe that this is not the outcome that any of us hoped for.”
“Danny,” she whispered. “You’re telling me that Danny is dead, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “It happened about three hours ago at the jail. An FBI agent from Montgomery came to assist with the investigation into Sofia’s kidnapping. By the time he got here, we had already returned her to you.”
“Are you telling me that a federal agent killed my husband?”
“It isn’t as simple as that, and what Agent Preston did in no way reflects on the standards of most FBI agents,” I said. “They are generally the most professional, the most dedicated and upstanding law enforcement officers in the world, Celeste.”
“Tell me what happened.”
I explained what I could without divulging any details of our ongoing investigation.
“Is he dead?”
“Danny?”
“No,” Celeste shook the blonde curls around her shoulders. “This agent. Is he dead?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“Did you kill him?”
“That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to stop him so I could get help for Danny.”
Tears rolled silently. “Thank you,” Celeste lips formed the words without sound. “I’m glad you did it.”
She hugged her baby to her chest and began rocking back and forth.
“Mrs. Datello,” Devlin said, “we can’t be sure that this rogue agent was acting alone. The recent abduction of your baby, the threat that was made to you this week –”
“You think Danny’s uncle is behind this?”
“It’s a possibility,” I said without divulging the details of Joel Soule’s presence at the hospital when Danny died. “Bay View Division has agreed to post officers outside your penthouse and the casino while we look into this matter very closely. If Sully Marcos is behind it, we will make sure that the threat is eliminated. I don’t want you to worry. You’re probably safer here than you would be anywhere else. At the same time, we want an extra level of security. We owe you at least that much.”
“Destiny is staying with me indefinitely too,” Celeste said. “She’ll know what to do.”
“She’s acting CEO for Danny’s business?”
“Yes. She had his power of attorney. He didn’t want me worrying about money or managing all of the businesses. Danny wanted me to be a mother to our daughter.”
“It may be helpful to our investigation if we had access to some of Danny’s business records, Celeste,” I said. “It might uncover a link that would point back to Sully and his desire to hurt your family.”
“Anything you need. Just talk to Destiny.”
Destiny. What a stupid name. I looked up and saw the aforementioned CEO of Datello’s empire lurking in the shadows. It was not exactly the picture of cooperation in her eyes.
Chapter 17
When we got back to the house, Johnny promptly deposited me in a steaming hot bath with bubbles up to my chin. He skipped the merlot and opted for a cup of steaming hot tea instead. The scent of chicken soup wafted into the bathroom and induced a low rumble in my belly.
Johnny held out a towel. “Up.”
“I can do this myself, you know,” I said while he carefully patted me dry.
He pressed his lips just below my navel, kneeling in front of me. “I know. If you can’t accept that I want to do this for you, allow it because I need it for me too.”
He dressed me in my favorite warm comfort clothes, the softest sweat suit known to man, and scooped me up into his arms.
“And I suppose you need me not to walk from here to there, too,” I chuckled.
He tucked me into bed. “Don’t argue with me, Doc. You’re exhausted, and I already warned you that you’d have to endure my overbearing pampering for the duration of the evening.”
“I’m too tired to complain,” I sighed.
Johnny ignited the gas fireplace in the bedroom before he disappeared. When he returned, it was with a tray. Chicken noodle soup, and dry toast with the crust removed from the bread.
“You really do remember everything, don’t you?” I reached for a slice of toast, but his hand intercepted mine.
“Ah-ah. I’ll do that.”
“I’m too weak to feed myself? Johnny, even when I really was sick you at least let me do a couple of things on my own. Like shoveling food into my mouth.”
“I didn’t get a salty breeze at midnight under a brilliant full moon. Humor me.”
“So this is your idea of romance?”
“I think” Johnny tipped the spoon to my lips, “that this is a very nontraditional way of self-soothing.”
“Mmm, good soup. So you’re telling me this is really a
ll about you.”
“This is about calming the nerves that haven’t gotten past the terror that you’d been shot again,” Johnny said. “This is about beating myself senseless over that stupid fight this morning.”
“Johnny, we’re fine.”
“It’s because I want you to know that I love you without reservation, and whether your answer had been yes or no, nothing changes that.”
“Good to know.”
The spoon hung between my mouth and the bowl. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No,” I leaned forward and slurped the soup off the spoon. “Have you?”
Johnny snorted. “Like anything could ever make that happen.”
“Even my off the cuff comment about taking a kill shot with Preston this afternoon instead of merely trying to wound him?”
“I am capable of recognizing when you’re frustrated, Helen.”
I reached for the toast. This time, he didn’t stop me. “I know I saw a look,” I said. “For a moment, that comment worried you. Tell the truth.”
“I wasn’t worried that you really meant it. Sometimes I wish you’d censor those thoughts, hold them back until we’re alone.”
“Because of Tony Briscoe?”
“I’d have to say that the truce you’ve shared for the past couple of months has come to a screeching halt, Doc. He’s pretty upset about that attack at the bay last night.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill him. I did want him to shut his big, offensive mouth.”
“Helen, I know you.”
“Hmm,” mumbled around a torn of chunk of toast. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You snapped last night. I can only imagine that your reaction at the hospital when I was seizing and you didn’t know if I would live or die was similar.”
“More,” I muttered.
“So that’s twice that Tony has witnessed your loss of rationality. This is not a good thing.”
I stopped eating and shredded the toast into a pile of bite sized morsels. “I know. I could promise to try harder to mute that impulse, but I think we both realize that it’s something I can’t really…”
