by SUE FINEMAN
“Lucky me.” Maggie had parents who loved and pampered her, and Hannah had been jerked around like a yo-yo and ignored as if she didn’t exist. Still, she couldn’t imagine having a mother like Eleanor Goodman.
Hannah was still preoccupied when Trevor came downstairs to help with dinner. “Everything all right, Hannah?”
“Sure.” Just super. What could she tell Donovan without upsetting him? And what was Eleanor’s purpose in telling her? If it was true.
After she made the salad, Hannah said, “That was a nice picture you gave Billy. What did you do with the picture that came from that frame?”
“I put it away. There for awhile I was hoping we could patch things up, but when I see you two together, I see something we never had. He’s a good man, Hannah. I hope you’ll be happy with him.”
Yes, Donovan was a good man, but she couldn’t see their relationship lasting past next October, when one of them would have a home and the other wouldn’t.
“Most guys wouldn’t want their girlfriend’s ex-husband hanging around.”
“Trevor, most women wouldn’t want their ex-husband hanging around.”
“We should have the new bathrooms in before Christmas. If you want me to move on then, I will, but I thought, if it’s all right with you, I could go ahead and get the attic fixed up. When Billy gets a little older, he’ll want a place to entertain his friends.”
If Billy was still here then. In any case, she wanted the attic finished. “Okay, finish the attic.” She could afford it now, and when the Kane family moved on, she might be able to use the house as a bed and breakfast.
Trevor hesitated before saying, “Then I can stay?”
“For now.” She pulled some bills from her pocket. “I know you’re working for room and board, but I also know you need some spending money.” Putting the bills in his hand, Hannah said, “Thanks for your help, Trevor.”
He gave her a big hug, stuffed the bills in his pocket, and went upstairs.
Donovan stood in the kitchen doorway. “That was a nice thing to do.”
“It feels a little like giving a kid an allowance.”
Hannah finished the meatloaf and put it in the oven. Donovan helped her clean up the mess. As he wiped off the cutting board, he asked, “What did Eleanor say?”
She wondered how much to tell him, if anything, and then decided not to hold anything back. “She said I was Monica’s second baby.”
“Who’s Monica?”
“My mother. Apparently she changed her name to Monique before she married my father.”
“Second baby?”
Hannah took a deep breath and blew it out. “Eleanor said she bought the first one. I assume she was talking about Maggie.”
Hannah watched Donovan’s face as the implications sank in. Confusion knit his eyebrows and then his eyes widened. “Maggie was Monique’s?”
“Did you know Maggie was adopted?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know she was Monique’s.” He stared at Hannah. “Are you sure?”
“No.” She leaned back against the sink. “I only know what that woman said. If it’s true, Monique would have been fifteen when Maggie was born.”
“I always thought she was William’s natural daughter. They looked so much alike. I asked Maggie about it once and she said she was the love child of a European princess and a Swedish scientist.”
“Yeah, right. Monique told me she was the great-granddaughter of the Grand Duchess Anastasia, of Russia. And if you believe that, I have a piece of ocean front property in Arizona to sell you.”
“Did Eleanor ask to see Billy?”
“No, she just shoved that package at me and left. What was it?”
“A photo album. I asked her for pictures of Maggie, for Billy. I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”
Curious, Hannah sat on the sofa with Donovan and looked through the pictures. Aside from the color of her hair and eyes, Maggie Goodman looked a great deal like Hannah had as a child. The more pictures she saw, the more she believed it could be true, but the only way to know for sure was to ask Monique.
“Donovan, remember when you said Monique reminded you of Maggie?”
“I meant her selfishness and those stupid fingernails. Maggie had pretty hands, but they were that way because she never did anything. She didn’t cook or clean or take care of Billy or anything, because she didn’t want to chip her nails. She thought everyone should wait on her.”
Hannah stopped on a page with several pictures of Maggie in her school play. One was a profile shot with her co-star, similar to the one Trevor had taken of her and Donovan. Maggie’s black wig was longer than Hannah’s hair, but their features were almost identical. Was Donovan attracted to her because she resembled Maggie?
Would he reject her because of it?
Donovan took the book from her hands and closed it. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not true. It never occurred to me that you could be biologically linked to Maggie. Eleanor is trying to break us apart. She’d do anything to punish me for stealing her perfect little girl.”
Maybe he wouldn’t reject her now, but he’d no doubt find enough similarities to cast doubt on her character.
<>
Monday morning, Donovan had just left for work when the doorbell rang. Pop answered, and Cordelli shoved a paper at him. It was a court order for Hannah to hand over the diaries. “Where’s Perkins?” asked Pop. “I thought he was in charge of the investigation.”
“I fired him. Now where in the hell are those damn diaries?” He shoved past Pop and walked straight to the library, where he started pulling open the desk drawers. He found the diary from 1912 and threw it on the desk. “Where are the others?”
“What others?”
Hannah and Trevor walked toward Pop. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Cordelli is here for the diaries.”
“Oh, no. Charity,” she called into the room. “If you’re still here, can you help me, please? I don’t want him to take the books.”
Trevor ran upstairs, while Pop hurried to his bedroom and called Donovan. “We have trouble. Cordelli is here for the diaries.”
“Aw, shit! On my way, Pop.”
Trevor brought his video camera downstairs. He turned it on and pointed it at the library doors. Pop stuck his thumb in the air. They couldn’t legally stop Cordelli from taking the diaries, but they could document any misbehavior. Knowing Cordelli, he was bound to say or do something inappropriate.
Hannah watched Cordelli flip the pages in the oldest of the diaries, and a page ripped. “Be careful with that. It’s a family treasure.” She wanted to snatch the book away, but his hammy fist swallowed the little book.
He rummaged in the drawers some more and pulled out the book from 1918. He opened the front, checked the date, and asked her how many more she had. Hannah crossed her arms. He stacked the book from 1918 on top of the other one and leaned across the desk toward her, his big body looming menacingly toward hers. “If you’d be as nice to me as your mother, this wouldn’t be necessary.”
Let him touch her? Her skin crawled just thinking about it. “You mean if I let you grope me, you won’t take the books? Is that what you’re saying?” That was what he wanted to do when he pulled her over after her shopping trip with Billy. He didn’t get his way that day, and he wouldn’t get what he wanted this time either.
“Smart girl.”
“You’re a disgrace to the police department.”
“Shut the door and be nice to me, and I’ll leave the diaries here.”
He walked toward her and she backed out the door, where she spotted Trevor and his video camera, filming evidence. Okay, she’d play along. “Leave the books here, Cordelli. You can’t read them anyway. She wrote them in code.”
“You don’t get something for nothing, honey. Get your ass back in here and take your clothes off.”
“Is that on the court order? Does it say I have to strip for you?”
Trevor stepped b
ehind her and videotaped Cordelli reaching for the diaries. A spark from the top diary shot out and singed his hand. He yowled and swore. “What in the hell are you pulling?”
“Those diaries belong to my family. I’ve agreed to share the information in them with Perkins, but I don’t intend to share anything with a man who makes crude sexual innuendos and puts his filthy hands on me.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
He reached for the books again. Another spark shot out, and Hannah heard the hiss when it seared his hand. He shook his hand and blew the smoke away from the burned spot, as if that would take the pain away. “I’ll kill you for this, bitch. I’ll have you locked in jail for defying a court order.”
She walked around him and picked up the books, trying to draw his attention away from Trevor and his camera. “Get out of my house, Cordelli, and don’t come back.”
He spotted Trevor and lunged for the camera.
Trevor backed up. “Smile. Detective Cordelli, is it?”
“Captain Cordelli, and if you use that, I’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”
Donovan walked across the living room toward them. “What’s going on?”
Cordelli blew on his hand again. It must hurt like hell, but Hannah couldn’t summon any sympathy.
“Your girl here refuses to obey a court order. I want you in my office at ten, Donovan, and I want that video and all those books or everyone in this house is going to jail, including your brat.” He stormed out the door.
As soon as Donovan slammed the door behind Cordelli, he said, “Trevor, I need a copy of that video right now.”
Trevor took the stairs two at a time.
“He fired Perkins,” said Pop.
“I know. I spoke with Peterson this morning. The men think I’m next, and they’re all ready to walk out.”
He put his hand on Hannah’s pale cheek. “Are you all right?”
“The last time a man tried to pull that shit on me, I kicked him where it counted, and he couldn’t walk. We were living in the guy’s house, and Monique was upset because we had to move again. If she wasn’t my mother, Cordelli wouldn’t have come after me today.”
Pop said, “Cordelli tore a page in one of the diaries, and Charity burned his hand. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some strange things in this house.”
“Thank you, Charity,” Donovan said into the house. “Thanks for helping Hannah.”
Pop grinned. “Cordelli didn’t know what hit him, but I’ll bet his hand hurts.”
“I don’t care,” Hannah said. “The creep deserved it.”
While Trevor made a copy of the video, Hannah told Donovan about Cordelli stopping her after her shopping trip with Billy.
“Damn it, Hannah. Why in the hell didn’t you tell me about this the day it happened?”
She looked him in the eye and told him the truth. “Because I didn’t want you charged with murder.”
“She has a point,” Pop muttered. “There are times when you can’t control your temper.”
“I don’t intend to kill him. I’m going to destroy his reputation and his career.”
“Then have at it,” said Hannah. She’d bought herself a cell phone, so she’d be prepared if Cordelli came after her again.
Trevor came downstairs with a copy of the video, and Donovan went directly to the courthouse to see the judge who’d issued that court order. Judge Harvey had been on the bench for a lot of years, and he was well respected in the community. He couldn’t have known what Cordelli had in mind when he requested the court order.
Donovan sat in his office while Judge Harvey watched the short video Trevor had taken. Cordelli had picked on the wrong woman this time.
The judge’s face turned dark with rage. “How long has this been going on?”
“Too long. I have evidence of other instances, including some of him making deals with suspects in exchange for sexual favors. He put his hand on Hannah twice before, and one time she threw dishwater in his face. I wish we’d had the camera on him then, but we have at least six witnesses, including me. The man is an embarrassment to the department and to the entire justice system. If his cousin wasn’t running the police department, Constantine Cordelli wouldn’t be around. If something doesn’t change, and soon, there won’t be enough detectives left to run the department. He’s already firing people without cause, and the others will quit. Nobody wants to work for this man. Hell, nobody even wants to be associated with him. He makes us all look bad.”
Judge Harvey shook his head, his face dark with anger. He rescinded his court order and asked Donovan to bring him the other evidence. “I’ll handle it from here.”
Could he trust Judge Harvey? As much as he could trust anyone involved in the justice system in this city. The judge wasn’t related to the Porcini family, and he didn’t have any political ties to them. Donovan intended to keep his CYA copy hidden away, just in case. If things didn’t shake out as he wanted, he could still take it all to the press and blow it wide open. Going public could shake the public’s confidence in the police department, but there might not be any choice.
Donovan delivered the evidence against Cordelli to Judge Harvey and then walked back to the police station, which was right next door to the courthouse.
Captain Rogers was already gone and the detectives who were in the building were scowling when Donovan walked in and greeted his men.
“I say we go to the press now,” said Peterson.
“I gave Judge Harvey the information we collected. He also has a video that was taken at my house this morning. Cordelli tried to trade the diaries for sex with Hannah, and Trevor got most of it with his video camera. The judge is livid.”
Carson whooped so loud, everyone in the room turned to stare. “If the judge doesn’t take care of the problem, the backup copy goes to the press,” said Donovan.
Cordelli’s booming voice filled the station. “Donovan Kane, get your ass in here.”
“If you’re going to fire me, you can do it right here, where everyone can hear.”
“Fine. You’re fired. Leave your badge and gun and get your sorry ass out of the station.”
“You got a legitimate reason?”
“Yeah. I can’t stand your fucking face.”
There were four other detectives in the room and several officers, and Donovan knew they’d all heard. He walked into Cordelli’s office and threw his badge on the desk. His gun followed.
Carson, Peterson, Joseph, and Jalinski followed Donovan into Cordelli’s office. Without a word, each man left his gun and badge on the desk. Perkins had already been fired, and the other detective on Donovan’s team, Vickers, had taken some time off to help his wife through a difficult pregnancy.
“You’ll finish the cases you’re working on before you walk out of here, or you’ll never work in law enforcement again,” Cordelli yelled after them.
“Finish them yourself,” yelled Peterson.
It wasn’t what Donovan wanted to have happen, but he knew his men well enough to know they wouldn’t go back until they could all go back, including Perkins. There was a level of trust and friendship within the department, especially in a small group that worked so closely together. They trusted each other with their lives.
In the parking lot, Peterson pulled a tape recorder from his pocket. “I had this on when Cordelli fired you. After I make a backup copy, I’ll get this to Judge Harvey. I almost hope the judge can’t pull it off. Exposing Cordelli to the public would be a real pleasure.”
“I know,” said Donovan, “but give the judge a chance before we get the press involved. We’ll meet at my house Sunday afternoon to talk about our options. Two o’clock.” If the judge did nothing in those six days, they’d handle it themselves.
Donovan sat in his car and called Vickers at home. The guy had worked so much overtime in the past few months, he’d earned a month off. He hated to bother him now, but he had to be told what was going on. “Hey, Vickers, this is
Donovan. How is Marianne?”
“She’s fine now. The baby was born three days ago. He came home yesterday. Cute little stinker, but you can hear him in Cleveland.”
He chuckled. “I remember. Billy was the same way.”
“What’s happening at work?”
“The captain is gone and Cordelli was promoted. The first thing he did was fire Perkins. Then he fired me. Peterson, Carson, Jalinski, and Joseph have all quit.”
Vickers groaned. “When did this happen?”
“This morning. Great timing, with Christmas coming up and you with a new baby. I’m sure Cordelli will be on your case any minute, and I just wanted to warn you. Judge Harvey is going to try to help us turn things around. We’re all meeting at my house Sunday afternoon at two. I know you have another couple weeks off, but I’d like you to be there.”
“I’ll be there. Damn it, Donovan, I can’t afford to lose my job now.”
“Neither can I. We’ll give the judge a few days and see what shakes out.”
The other four detectives stood around their cars talking. They were all angry and upset, and Donovan was, too. Cordelli had the job he’d hoped would one day be his. Now he didn’t know how he was going to support his family. He should get paid through the end of the year whether he worked or not, and then he not only wouldn’t have a job, he wouldn’t have health insurance.
The hard part wasn’t losing the job, it was letting his family down. He had no savings, no reserves, nothing to fall back on. What he had was a father and son who believed in him, a woman he loved, and a guy living in the attic, and they all depended on him. He had a place to live, but those damn bills wouldn’t go away.
He should have declared bankruptcy after Maggie died and found himself a better job, one with regular hours and better pay. Instead, he’d let Pop sell his house, and he’d moved his family into a series of dumpy apartments in bad neighborhoods, looking for cheap rent so the hospital wouldn’t attach his salary. Pop and Billy deserved better.
He still had a hefty hospital bill to pay, and they kept adding interest, keeping the balance up there. The three doctor bills he had left were nearly paid off, but that damn hospital bill wouldn’t ever go away unless Eleanor paid it or he declared bankruptcy, and that option was looking better all the time.
