Sins of the Father

by LS Sygnet

I sobbed softly and tucked my chin to my chest.

  “Baby, you are nothing like her.”

  “How do you know that? She was long since dead when you met me.”

  “But I did meet your father. You are his daughter in every way imaginable. You would do anything to protect our children, just like he did everything to protect you.”

  Had he? Was there some dark secret about Aidan Conall that made Dad feel compelled to save me from him? It wouldn’t explain why he left Crevan behind. Surely he warranted the same treatment I did. In the cases where I suspected that Dad intervened, he had never discriminated between boys and girls. My father, no matter what biology would call him, was exactly what Johnny said. He protected the innocent.

  Johnny dried my tears with nothing more than his thumbs. “Hey, whatever this is, it’ll be all right. If I have to brick this room off to make you feel better, I’ll do it.”

  Thank God for my mood swings. The erratic behavior was more than effective in muting Johnny’s ability to see straight through me.

  I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “You want me to do it?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Just don’t get fed up with these bizarre ideas that pop into my head. I need you to be the sane one, Johnny. You keep me grounded.”

  His grin spread across my neck. “Finally, you admit it.”

  My fist tapped his shoulder. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

  “Are you ready to come downstairs and see David now?”

  I sniffled again, wiped the clear drizzle I left on Johnny’s neck. “Give me a minute to splash some water on my face. I’ll be right down.”

  “Promise you won’t start freaking out over this room if I leave you up here.”

  “I’ll use the bathroom downstairs. I don’t have any linens up here anyway.”

  He waited for me outside the bathroom, though I’m not sure why. Maybe he was afraid some other insane mood swing would overcome me if he left me alone for too long. I silently admonished myself to get a grip. I’d never have the freedom to find the answers to questions that plagued me if Johnny feared I’d have an emotional breakdown every time something unexpected happened.

  Of course, he would understand it, if I could only confide in him. Somehow, even though he knew the truth behind my biggest lies, I could not bring myself to say the words that would implicate my father in another crime. One that had no statute of limitations. Then again, what could they really do to Wendell? He was already serving life without the possibility of parole.

  Johnny met me at the bathroom door. “Ready?”

  “Ready. Sorry. Embarrassed. Confused.”

  Johnny chuckled. “Hormones. Hopefully it’ll get better soon.”

  “Because suddenly my body won’t be flooded with a double dose of them?”

  “I was thinking that your equilibrium might reset to the new levels,” Johnny grinned. “If not, I guess it will be about 30 more weeks of this.”

  “God, you’re going to divorce me for being an insane pain in the ass.”

  “This is a mere hiccup compared to what we’ve been through already,” Johnny said. “We’ll be fine, Helen. Let’s get downstairs before David comes looking for both of us.”

  “I told him I’m pregnant, Johnny, before he came out here the last time.”

  “He mentioned it.”

  “Did you tell him about our latest bombshell?”

  Johnny shook his head and grinned. “And deprive you of the look on his face? No way, sweetheart.”

  “How much did you tell him about why we wanted the FBI out here again?”

  “As little as possible. I thought your case would sound far more compelling if you explained it to him. If you’re not feeling up to going through all of that again, I’ll tell him of course.”

  “No, I’ll do it. We may as well get this over with before the next crazy idea pops into my head.”

  “It’s not crazy.”

  “I meant about that nanny suite.”

  Johnny grinned. “You’re not crazy. Hormonal? Absolutely.”

  “Let’s hope my theory on Sanderfield isn’t just raging hormones out of control.”

  “We’ll get David’s opinion. I suspect he’ll see the logic in your theory just like I did.”

  My personal torment drifted a little further away with each step down the stairs. Until I got my first glimpse of David. The concern in his eyes proved my undoing.

  When he hugged me, waves of tears crashed against the crumbling fortress that used to protect me from these ridiculous emotional outbursts.

  “I’m having twins,” I sobbed onto his shoulder.

  David laughed and said, “Well now, that explains everything.”

  Chapter 9

  David chewed on the tip of his thumbnail while I quietly explained my theory on Terrell Sanderfield. Of course, it involved a confession that I had withheld information after I was rescued from The Celeste. I suspected that his silence was more judgment on my behavior in that regard than anything else.

  Johnny dropped a quart of soft-serve strawberry ice cream in front of me when I finished explaining everything to David.

  “Eat,” he said softly.

  The man knows me. What can I say? When all else fails, strawberry ice cream heals a multitude of hurts. I swirled a dab on the spoon and licked it away.

  “Helen, it bothers me that you kept this from us in the very beginning,” David finally spoke. “We could’ve been digging into this man’s actions for two weeks.”

  “I thought I was being paranoid. I mean, isn’t that a possibility?”

  He shook his head, mouth curled downward while one eyebrow lifted. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear all of your theories, Helen, not just the ones you feel you can support with adequate evidence?”

  “See?” Johnny nudged me with his shoulder.

  “It’s not like I’ve been operating at even fifty percent lately,” I mumbled around the spoon. “Pregnant brain. Isn’t that what they called it, Johnny? I’ve suddenly become stupid.” My eyes welled with tears. “Doubly stupid.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” David said. “You’re not stupid on your worst day. For heaven’s sake, Helen. Stupid for you is still above average for the rest of the world.”

  “All I have is suspicion. I don’t have the first clue how to go about proving any of this. Hell, Sanderfield has been crucifying Joe and Johnny, OSI as a whole because they had the audacity to suspect that some of his campaign contributions were less than kosher.”

  “Which is why you needed to take his advice and get us involved,” David said. “We don’t give a damn if Sanderfield likes us or not. We’ll dig through his life like archeologists who finally found Atlantis. And he can whine and bitch about it all he likes. We simply don’t care.”

  “You think the campaign finance issue is the best tactic to dig into the rest of it? If he’s really the guy that Gillette believed would protect him, there’s got to be evidence somewhere,” Johnny said.

  “You don’t achieve that level of hubris unless one of two scenarios exist. Either Gillette was cocky and stupid, which I doubt, since he nearly got away with selling Helen into slavery, or the corruption in this human trafficking ring goes far deeper than we ever imagined. We’ve been dissecting the evidence thoroughly for the past two weeks. Nobody at Quantico believes that three or four people ran this operation.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, Helen. I agree with your assessment of Sherman. His involvement was probably based on perversion and easy access. The forensic accountants have been over his books with a fine-toothed comb. Yes, there were a number of questionable infusions of huge amounts of money. I don’t doubt he was part of it. The ringleader? No way. It’s like what you said about Jerry Lowe. Sherman was too fixated on what he got out of the bargain personally to be cold enough to run the show.”

  “Plus, Sherman had foreign connections in areas of the world where slave
ry isn’t the taboo it ought to be,” I said. “He brought something valuable to the operation, but his involvement wouldn’t have remained necessary after the connections were made.”

  “Exactly. Now, since we haven’t even taken a peek at Senator Sanderfield, God only knows what we’ll find,” David said. “You’re certain about Gillette’s insinuation?”

  I nodded. “I can’t imagine who else he could’ve been talking about, David. Sanderfield is the only powerful and vocal opponent of OSI. What do you think of my theory that they simply used Danny Datello as a built-in patsy?”

  “It almost makes too much sense. Christ, it’s so obvious it’s clear why the notion didn’t occur to anyone until you suggested it. The Marcos family is so dirty, nobody would bat an eyelash at the suggestion they were involved in human trafficking. Of course, there is no evidence that Datello’s hands were clean. His ship, Helen. His employees, his docks.”

  “Which leads everyone to point the finger at him as the mastermind. But David, you didn’t see him when I questioned him about his daughter’s abduction. He was literally heartsick.”

  “Maybe because he realized that his partners were turning the business against him,” Johnny suggested.

  “I can’t see that,” I said. “Datello seemed like he had two driving forces behind his criminal activities. One, he wanted to punish his uncle for the murder of his father. Two, he wanted to protect the family that mattered to him – Celeste and their daughter. Sure he committed a murder to conceal what he tried to do to Sully Marcos, but even before he was married, Danny knew that Sully wouldn’t hesitate to kill him and anybody important to him if he ever found out who betrayed him.”

  “She’s right, Johnny. The U.S. Attorney has ruled out Danny’s involvement in Sully’s operations. In fact, the only link they found was when Danny saw to it that Rick Hamilton went to work laundering money for the family. Even that is somewhat questionable.”

  Johnny’s silence and absence of eye contact with David mirrored mine.

  I dragged my gaze toward David. “Questionable in what way?”

  “Datello and your ex-husband shared a close bond, Helen. It seems that the ninth or tenth look at Rick’s records indicate he may have been feeding information about Sully’s activities to Danny.”

  “You think he was trying to help Datello bring down the family?”

  “I’m not saying that we have proof of that. It seems like a distinct possibility. I don’t think Rick acted out of conscience or that he wasn’t serious when he threatened to implicate you in what he’d done. I do believe that he was loyal to Datello and vice versa.”

  I pushed the ice cream in front of Johnny and scrubbed my hands over my face. “I can’t think about this anymore. The last thing I want in my head right now is Rick Hamilton.”

  “I’m sorry, Helen. We can’t ignore part of the case simply because it dredges up painful memories for you.”

  “We don’t have to make her sit through the discussions, David. Sweetheart, you look exhausted. Why don’t you go lay down and take a nap? It’s been an exhausting day for you.”

  “I’m still hungry.”

  Johnny grinned. “It is almost lunch time. What would you like?”

  “Mexican, but I don’t have any –”

  “We’ll go pick something up,” David offered. “Johnny’s right, Helen. You look tired. We can pick this up later after you’ve had a chance to rest and get something to eat.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” Johnny said. He walked with me into the bedroom and pulled back the blankets and sheet from the bed. “Come on.”

  I kicked off my shoes and crawled onto the mattress. “You think this overwhelming fatigue will pass too?”

  Johnny pulled my pants down to my pubic bone. His fingers skimmed over my bared belly. He leaned over and planted a succession of soft kisses. My back arched into the light touch.

  “Yeah?”

  “We can’t. Not with David out there waiting for you.”

  His tongue circled my navel and wiped away my rational objections. I whimpered and dug my fingers through the hair at the back of his scalp.

  “Think we might finally get our wedding night?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Right now.”

  “That would take far too long.” Johnny’s mouth nibbled its way higher.

  I ripped the buttons open on my blouse while his hand disappeared beneath the stretchy Lycra that encased my hips. His teeth clamped onto one nipple through a lacy bra. I almost shot off the bed.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “How about I take the edge off for you now, and we can take our time later tonight?”

  Johnny’s fingers already slipped between slick folds of flesh and inflicted exquisite pleasure. His other hand kneaded my tender breast. Johnny captured the cry from my throat in his mouth and moaned softly.

  “That’s it, baby. Let it go.”

  Indeed, I had no other choice. My muscles seized before turning to the consistency of spongy mush. Johnny’s lips wandered to my ear. “Are you all right?”

  “Mmm. Completely.”

  His whiskers tickled my flesh. “Sleep. I’ll come wake you when we get back with lunch.”

  “Not Mexican.”

  “I thought you wanted –”

  “Spicy Thai noodles.”

  Johnny chuckled. “I’ll get both. God forbid you change your mind again before I get home.”

  My arms tightened around him suddenly. “Johnny?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he said. “Get some rest.”

  I waited until I heard the front door close before I flew out of the bed and started tossing clothes into a small bag inside the closet. Not too many. Nothing that Johnny would notice was missing.

  In the back of my closet, I retrieved my Plan B documents – driver’s licenses, passports, ungodly amount of cash, untraceable pre-paid cell phones and the clothing I would wear in less than fifteen minutes.

  I ran to the bathroom and jerked open drawers until I found what I was looking for. With a handful of hair, I started cutting without regard for style. Piles of shorn locks soon floated in the toilet. The sobering glimpse of my face in the mirror snagged my attention for a moment. I reached out and touched it.

  “My God. I could be Crevan.”

  Snap out of it, Helen. We don’t have time for this.

  I threw the scissors in the drawer and slammed it shut. Next, the glue. I slathered it haphazardly on cheeks, chin and partway down my neck. I patted the light sprinkling of a false beard, darker than the stringy blond wig I’d soon don, over the tacky adhesive.

  Back to the closet, I retrieved one final box. Heavy bastard. I could’ve used this when I was trying to convince everyone that I was putting on weight quickly. I shimmied into the latex suit designed to add inches to my flat belly and toothpick thighs. The image in the full length mirror in the closet revealed someone who looked like they were suffering from the swollen belly and wasted limbs of late stage liver disease. No time to debate if the costume was convincing. I pulled on a pair of oversize jeans and a t-shirt, which I quickly covered with an open flannel number. Next came the wig.

  I surveyed the disguise.

  It wasn’t the most convincing man I’d ever seen, but it looked nothing like Helen Eriksson. Eriksson Orion.

  No, this wasn’t the plan that was first and foremost in my head. I didn’t have one. That was part of the problem. When Johnny suggested that we bring David back out to work the case, I had little choice but to step up my timetable. It didn’t matter if Maya had my test results back or not. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out what Gillette really said to me. What if he wasn’t the only one who knew the truth? He had partners after all, two of whom were currently held in custody at Bay County Correctional.

  I pulled the wedding band off my left finger and slipped it between the grates on the forced air duct on the closet floor. “Forgive me, Johnny.”r />
  Totally unfair. He’d worry like crazy that I’d been abducted again. Even though he knew the truth of what I’d really done to Rick Hamilton, I knew he could never forgive what I was about to do. Understand it? Maybe. Never forgive it.

  How could I allow my father to be punished for giving me a better life than I could’ve ever had with the biological family that should’ve raised me? How could I have allowed him to suffer all these years behind bars when I alone had the ability to stop that travesty from taking place at all?

  Last step. I pulled the MacBook, with all the evidence of who I had to become and how I facilitated it, out of its hiding place over the past couple of months. I quickly filled the bathtub with water and mounds of bubble bath. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed one of the frozen shakes we kept stocked in the freezer and hurried back to the enormous whirlpool tub.

  I sucked on the straw in the shake until my left eye throbbed in protest from too much cold fluid sluicing down my throat.

  The laptop perched on the edge of the tub.

  I shoved it into the water, shrieked when sparks flew. I dropped the milkshake on the floor, kicked it across the room. With a small travel bag slung over my shoulder, I dashed through the house, overturning chairs, knocking lamps to the floor. He wouldn’t expect me to go quietly. Not a chance. I flung the front door open and depressed the button on the control panel that would open the gate.

  I strolled off my property without looking back. When I set this plan into motion in January, when I was afraid Johnny would remember too much about our past and be less than forgiving, the first thing I did was purchase a reliable used car. It was stored in the much emptied storage facility that still housed some of my belongings from Georgetown.

  Johnny had no idea.

  I headed off in a direction I knew would not cause our paths to inadvertently cross on his way home from bringing both Thai and Mexican food, and pulled out the cell phone.

  City Taxi Service made their number unforgettable. All sixes. I doubted that Johnny was at his first restaurant by the time I crawled into the back of the car that picked me up from a forested street corner not far from my home.