But Nikki’s feelings still hadn’t caught up to the new reality. As irrational as it was, part of her still grieved Goodman’s death, still pitied him for his painful childhood and the demons that drove him so powerfully. She couldn’t seem to let go of the man she’d imagined him to be, any more than she could re-cast Johnson in the role of hero, simply because the ‘facts’ demanded it.
‘Come on,’ said Gretchen, sensing Nikki’s thoughts spiraling back into a dark place. ‘Adam’s on set all day today so I’m taking the kids to Pasadena. I thought we’d do the Huntingdon Gardens and get a late lunch at the pagoda in the Chinese Garden. You can help me wrangle the three of them.’
‘I’m OK,’ said Nikki. ‘I think I’ll stay here and rest.’
‘Oh, it’s not a request,’ Gretchen said firmly, dropping a bottle of suntan lotion and a map of the botanical gardens into Nikki’s lap. ‘You’re coming.’
Without breaking stride, she turned towards the lawn and yelled, ‘Lucas! Get off that bike before you break something – and help me find your brothers! I need you in the car in five minutes!’
The botanical gardens at the Huntingdon were stunning, but punishingly hot. Less than twenty miles from Beverly Hills, the temperature had somehow soared almost fifteen degrees, pushing the thermometer to almost a hundred as Nikki, Gretchen and the boys weaved their way through the acres of roses, desert blooms and oriental gardens complete with carp ponds, bridges, and miniature temples alive with countless species of butterflies.
Nikki, who still walked slowly and with the help of a cane thanks to the bullet Luis Rodriguez had fired into her lower left leg, struggled to keep up with Gretchen and the kids. Sweat poured down her face and between her breasts, leaving her sticky and uncomfortable. Worse than the heat were the stares and whispers of strangers, many of whom Nikki was sure recognized her from the newspapers or the TV news.
In New York, I’ll be anonymous again, she thought, trying to focus on the positive. It’ll be cooler too. With seasons.
She’d missed seasons.
Spotting a stone bench in the shade of an acid-green willow, she sat to catch her breath and take a sip of water. The ding ding of a text on her phone surprised her. Who could that be? No one called her these days. Nikki had long since grown distant from family and friends, apart from Gretchen. The police investigation was over, and her practice shut down. Her phone had pretty much become a camera with which to record the exploits of the Adler children.
Looking down at the screen in her palm she felt her stomach lurch. She recognized the number immediately, even though she’d long since deleted its owner’s contact from her phone.
Detective Johnson’s text was typically brief, self-important and rude.
‘Meet me tomorrow. Denny’s Pico/34th.’
That was it. No ‘please’. No ‘How are you?’ No explanation as to why Nikki should meet him or what the meeting was about, still less any thought as to whether the time and place were convenient for her.
She contemplated texting back ‘Forget it,’ before deciding on balance that complete silence would send the same message more effectively. Glancing up she saw Gretchen walking towards her and swiftly deleted the text.
‘Everything OK?’ Gretchen looked suspiciously at the phone. ‘You’re not watching coverage of Haddon’s trial are you?’
‘Nope,’ said Nikki. ‘Scouts honor.’
She imagined Mick Johnson sitting at Denny’s alone, confidently waiting for her to arrive, only slowly realizing that she wasn’t coming. Not now. Not ever.
He no longer had any power over her at all. She smiled.
And it struck her then, for the first time.
I hate him even more than I used to.
I hate him for saving my life.
In the visitors’ room at Valley State Prison, Jerry Kovak scratched his red neck anxiously. It was well over a hundred in Chowchilla and Jerry had gotten sunburnt simply walking from the prison yard back to his cell.
‘Did she reply?’
Mick Johnson stared down at his phone. ‘Not yet.’
The scratching intensified.
‘But you think she will? I mean, you will see her?’
It pained Mick to see Jerry like this. So scared. So desperate.
‘Oh, I’ll see her all right,’ he told his friend. ‘You can count on that. I’m not done with Dr Roberts yet.’
‘He looks mad,’ whispered the waitress, refilling the coffee pot.
‘Real mad,’ her friend whispered back. ‘How much longer d’you think he’ll wait?’
The girls at Denny’s knew Detective Mick Johnson well. He’d been a regular for years, and although he didn’t say much, he was a generous tipper. Occasionally he came in with other cops, but usually he ate alone, giant stacks of pancakes and bacon, no matter what time of day he came in. Today, however, he’d specifically mentioned he was expecting ‘a friend’ and asked for a booth at the back, ‘somewhere private’.
It was obviously a woman he was expecting, and the waitress felt bad for him, getting stood up in front of everybody. She was about to go over and refill his coffee cup for the third time when a petite brunette walked in and headed straight for Johnson’s table.
‘Wow,’ whispered her friend. ‘She’s so pretty. She can’t be his date, can she?’
The first girl shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe he has money stashed away somewhere.’
Her friend laughed. ‘Yeah, right. That’s why he eats here four times a week. Maybe he’s hung like a donkey,’ she winked.
‘Carla! Don’t be gross. I’m going to take their order.’
Grabbing two laminated menus she slid over to Johnson’s booth.
‘Hi there!’ She smiled at the brunette, who looked awfully familiar. ‘What can I get you?’
‘We’re fine,’ Johnson snapped. ‘We need some privacy, OK?’
The waitress retreated, stung. Jerk. There was no pleasing some people. And here she’d been, feeling sorry for him …
Johnson looked across the table at Nikki with narrowed, angry eyes.
‘You took your time,’ he grumbled.
‘You’re lucky I came at all,’ Nikki shot back frostily. ‘I wasn’t going to.’
Johnson’s face turned so red he looked as if he were being boiled from the inside. ‘You’re a piece of work, Dr Roberts, you know that?’
‘Oh, I’m a piece of work?’
‘I saved your life!’ Johnson raised his voice.
‘I never asked you to,’ Nikki hissed back at him. ‘I didn’t want you to!’
‘Oh really? You’re telling me you wanted to die in that warehouse? You wanted lover-boy Goodman to put a bullet in your head? Because it sure didn’t look that way when you were lying there whimpering like a stuck piglet, begging for your life.’
‘We were never lovers.’ Nikki quivered with rage. ‘And yes, I wanted to live. Who doesn’t? I just didn’t want you to be the one … I hate you!’ she blurted. ‘You’ve made my life hell, ever since this nightmare started.’
‘Me?’ Johnson sounded genuinely taken aback. ‘How do you work that out?’
Nikki looked at him, incredulous.
‘Are you serious? You tried to pin Lisa and Trey’s murders on me. You even accused me of having a hand in my own husband’s death.’
‘I didn’t try to “pin” anything on anyone,’ Johnson grumbled defensively. ‘I thought you were guilty. At the beginning anyway.’
‘Based on what?’ Nikki threw her arms wide in exasperation. ‘A hunch? Your cop’s instinct?’
‘Oh, that’s right,’ Johnson sneered. ‘You go ahead and dismiss those things. Because you understand what it means to be a police officer so well, don’t you, Doc? You being such an insightful psychologist and all.’
The dig hit home, but Nikki tried not to show it. She was glad she’d come, glad to be having it out with Johnson at last, telling him to his fat, ignorant face what she really thought of him.
‘O
h, I’ve made mistakes,’ she said. ‘I’ll be the first to admit it. I’ve made big mistakes, and I’ve paid for them, Detective. But that doesn’t make your Neanderthal, racist, sexist, homophobic worldview any less loathsome. You falsely accused me of murdering people I loved – my husband, my friend, my patient – for no better reason than that you disliked me. Why don’t you explain to me how that’s OK?’
Johnson opened his mouth to yell at her – his blood was up, as it always seemed to be around this infuriating woman – but for once he held back. Sure, he was angry. But he also wanted her, needed her, to understand him. One of them had to bridge the chasm between them.
Holding up his hands in a Let’s slow down gesture, he made a concerted effort to speak calmly and slowly.
‘OK, look. It’s true I thought you were involved at the beginning. And I was wrong about that. Even though God knows you gave me enough reason to suspect you. But you ought to know, I wasn’t lying and I wasn’t trying to frame you. I genuinely thought you had orchestrated those killings.’
‘Why? Because I held back information?’ asked Nikki, mirroring his more measured tone. ‘That’s a bit flimsy, isn’t it?’
‘It was more than that,’ said Johnson. ‘You had a motive.’
Nikki raised an eyebrow. ‘I did?’
‘Sure. Your husband cheated on you,’ Johnson explained. ‘Plus you stood to inherit everything in his will. That’s a motive for his murder. Lisa Flannagan was a mistress, and you hated that. That’s a motive for hers.’
‘And Trey?’ Nikki asked.
‘I don’t know about Trey,’ Johnson shrugged. ‘I thought, maybe he knew things about you and your husband that you didn’t want getting out there. Or maybe he covered for your husband’s affair? The fact is that all the deceased were linked to you, Doc. You had motive, you had opportunity, and you had the financial means to do it. You had the smarts, the cunning.’
‘And you didn’t like me, right, Detective?’ Nikki said bitterly. ‘An educated, successful woman, a woman who wasn’t impressed by your badge and bravado.’
‘How about a liar?’ Johnson replied, struggling not to let his anger get the better of him. ‘You lied to us about Brandon Grolsch. You said you’d never heard of him.’
Nikki flushed. ‘That’s true. I guess I … I didn’t trust you to treat him fairly.’
‘Oh, right. You didn’t trust us. And what was that – a hunch? A psychologist’s instinct?’
Touché, thought Nikki.
‘I was wrong to lie to you about Brandon,’ she admitted. ‘But that didn’t excuse you hounding me …’
‘I didn’t hound you, lady,’ Johnson shook his head. ‘I was doing my job, investigating those murders. I had reason to suspect you, but once I started looking into it, other leads came up that made me see things differently. I’d already started on the drugs angle and I was looking into Rodriguez, thanks to some of my old friends on the drug squad. It didn’t help having your man Williams trampling all over my turf,’ he couldn’t help adding, ‘interfering with potential witnesses. But I don’t like to speak ill of the dead.’
He crossed himself and Nikki decided to let it go. She had no right to get angry on Derek Williams’ behalf. If it hadn’t been for her, Williams would still be alive.
‘How did you know I’d be at the warehouse?’ Nikki asked.
‘That was lucky,’ said Johnson. ‘Goodman got sloppy. He left deleted emails on the server, and I’d already hacked into his texts. Once I interviewed the dealers on the streets in Trey’s old neighborhood and I got a sense of the turf war over the Krokodil market between Rodriguez and the Russian gangs, I knew someone in our department had to be helping Rodriguez. I suspected Goodman right off the bat, but I didn’t know for sure until the day before you showed up at the station. That was when I put the tracker on his car.’
Nikki shuddered. Without that tracker, and Johnson’s foresight, she would certainly not be alive right now.
‘Look. I am grateful,’ she told him.
‘Really?’ he frowned. ‘You’ve got an odd way of showing it.’
‘It was very brave, what you did,’ said Nikki. ‘But it doesn’t erase everything that went before. You’re bigoted. You’re self-righteous.’ She counted his character flaws off on her fingers, like a disappointed schoolteacher. ‘You blatantly lie in court to protect fellow officers.’
‘I’m loyal to my friends!’ Johnson defended himself. ‘So are you, Doc. Look at the way you protected Brandon. Only difference is, my friends are decent guys who’ve devoted their lives to public service, whereas yours are good-for-nothing junkies who cut innocent people to ribbons with butcher’s knives just so they can afford their next hit.’
Nikki winced. She wished with all her heart that this weren’t an accurate description of Brandon Grolsch. But it was. Even if Luis Rodriguez and Valentina Baden had been pulling the strings, Brandon must still be held accountable for the terrible things he’d done.
‘Does the name Jerry Kovak mean anything to you?’ Johnson asked, out of the blue.
Kovak. Something stirred in Nikki’s memory, but she couldn’t quite place it.
‘Detective Jerry Kovak, drug squad. Great officer. Lost his wife. He was involved in an incident with a lowlife drug dealer back in the early 2000s. The judge gave him twenty years.’
‘Kovak …’ Nikki murmured the name out loud. ‘Not the guy who beat the young black boy nearly to death?’
‘That “young black boy” was a ruthless dealer and killer by the name of Kelsey James.’ Johnson spat out his name as if it were poison. ‘Jerry, on the other hand, was a decorated detective, not to mention a great husband and father. He was out of his mind with grief at the time. But you testified against him. You told the judge he was OK mentally, and that bitch put him away for two decades. Totally destroyed the man.’
Nikki could see the anger and resentment etched on Johnson’s face. He genuinely thinks an injustice was done, she thought. Choosing her words carefully, she said, ‘I remember. It was a tragic case.’
‘It didn’t need to be,’ said Johnson. ‘You stuck the knife in, Doc.’
Nikki looked him in the eye. ‘I meant tragic for everyone. For your friend, but also for the murdered man and his family.’
‘’Course you did,’ said Johnson bitterly.
‘Grief is a terrible thing,’ said Nikki. ‘I know that as well as anyone. But you can’t go round beating people half to death.’
‘Kelsey James wasn’t “people”. He was scum. Him and his family and the whole community of bastards who closed ranks around him. You think I’m a racist, Doc? You ever ask yourself why?’
‘No, I don’t ask myself that,’ said Nikki, still defiant but less angry than before. She saw now that Mick Johnson wasn’t an intrinsically bad man. Only a deeply misguided one. ‘Because it doesn’t matter why. Wrong is wrong. What your friend did was wrong. And that’s that.’
‘That’s that,’ Mick repeated, shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and despair. ‘What a cozy, black-and-white world you live in, Dr Roberts. For us cops out on the street – you know, the guys risking our lives to save yours – it ain’t like that. Nothing’s ever black-and-white. Everything’s gray.’
We’re never going to agree, thought Nikki. I’ll never get him to see the world my way, and he’ll never get me to see it his way. But we’re both trying to live by our own conscience.
She felt the last of her own anger melt away and a deep sense of relief sweep in to take its place.
‘Why did you ask me here today, Detective Johnson?’
Johnson eyed her thoughtfully, as if considering how best to solve a complex problem. Which, in a way, he was.
‘To call in a favor,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘Or perhaps you could say to make a trade? I saved your life. So maybe you might do something for me in return.’
‘If I can,’ said Nikki. ‘What’s the favor?’
‘Jerry Kovak’s got a par
ole hearing next month.’ Johnson looked her square on. ‘I’d like you to speak in his defense.’
Nikki’s face fell. ‘Come on, Detective. Be reasonable. You know I can’t do that.’
‘Sure you can.’
‘He was guilty of that crime,’ said Nikki. ‘He was no more insane than you or I. My opinion hasn’t changed. I’m sorry.’
‘This isn’t about guilt or innocence,’ said Johnson, waving away her objections with an impatient hand. ‘It’s about mercy. About showing compassion for a decent man.’
Nikki hesitated. As they’d been talking, details of the Kovak case came back to her. The terrible injuries that Kelsey James had sustained, leaving his face unrecognizable, even to his own family. What Johnson’s friend had done was the act of an animal, a savage beast. No ‘decent man’ could have done that, not under any circumstances. And Kovak’s record had shown a history of racially motivated incidents, with a string of alleged assaults on black victims dating back years, well before his wife’s death.
‘I’m sorry,’ she looked down at her hands. ‘I can’t do what you’re asking.’
‘Hmmm. I thought you might say that.’ To her surprise, Johnson sounded disappointed rather than furious. ‘Well, in that case, I guess I can’t share the FBI file on your husband’s mistress I just got me a copy of. Pregnant mistress, I should say. Something else you decided in your wisdom not to share with us. Ah well. That’s too bad.’
Dropping a twenty on the table, he stood up to leave.
‘Wait!’ Nikki called after him.
He kept walking.
‘Detective Johnson! Hold on, please.’
He stopped and turned, smiling.
‘What happened, Doc?’ he asked mockingly. ‘Things suddenly get a little grayer, did they?’
He’d got her over a barrel and they both knew it. Nikki didn’t know whether to be angry or to laugh. In the end, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she chose the latter.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘You win. I’ll come to the parole hearing.’
Sidney Sheldon's the Silent Widow Page 37
