by LS Sygnet
“Not really. Sherman knows something very important. That’s probably why everyone else is so eager to get her out of jail. I have no doubt that she’ll disappear without a trace if that happens. Please tell me that Zack didn’t buy that bogus statement Gerard made last night.”
“He wanted hard evidence, something concrete and tangible that would prove Datello was behind everything. She couldn’t provide it, so no, he wasn’t buying it. And Helen, speaking of disappearing without a trace, I’m begging you to set things right with Johnny. Even if you won’t let him come to you and help you with whatever rogue agent insanity has infected you this time, you could at least tell him that you’re safe, that you’re not chained in the cargo hold of some ship that managed to slip out of the bay before they searched it.”
“If you think this is hard for him, Maya, you haven’t seen ballistic, and you would if I told him the truth. No, he needs to focus on Sanderfield.”
“He’s dispatched Levine to Montgomery for that job. Johnny has made it perfectly clear that you are his only priority right now. Remember what I said. Crying, Helen. Johnny Orion, the prototype for all alpha males in the universe was weeping like a baby not ten minutes ago.”
“I’ll make it up to him when this is over. I already told you that.”
“And I’m telling you, it’s not good enough,” she hissed. Her voice grew muffled. “Sorry. Billy just poked his head in here to see what’s taking me so long. I can’t talk much longer, but you need to know that this is becoming unbearable for me, Helen. If you don’t tell him the truth, I’ve got to.”
“Two more days, and it’ll all be over,” I said. “Please, Maya. Tomorrow is gonna be huge for me. I need just a little more time.”
“He doesn’t have more time! This is killing him, Helen. I doubt the man has slept for a single second since you left. You’ve got to tell him what happened. Please!”
“I’ll… I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can offer. Give me one more day, Maya. I’ll tell him everything then.”
“He might not have one more day.”
She was being dramatic, and I knew it. Unfortunately, my heart leapt to life again, and Johnny has always been my Achilles’ heel. “Tell him that you know how much I love him, that I’m doing everything humanly possible to get back to him.”
“How about I tell him that you escaped your abductors Monday and ran off to close this thing on your own? How about that, huh? Do you think that would ease his mind a little bit?”
“It would drive him nuts, and you know it. This is exactly why I can’t tell him what I’m really doing, Maya. You don’t know him the way I do. If he figures out what’s really going on, he’ll find me and stop me.”
“You make this sound like you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing, Helen. Are you? Is this thing, whatever it is you need two more days to accomplish, is it illegal?”
Just a little bit. I sighed. “I’m not going to kill anybody if that’s what you’re asking.” Not really kill them anyway.
“I’m telling him the truth. Either you agree to call him right now, or I’m marching out there and telling him that I’ve been in contact with you the whole time, and that while you might still be in danger, you’re not chained up somewhere!”
“Might still be in danger?”
“Fine, but you know what I meant. You’re at least safer off the grid than you were here.”
“Exactly. And if Johnny drags me back onto their radar, what do you think will happen? How long do you think it’ll be before somebody else comes after me?”
“He can protect you!”
“Bang up job he’s done so far.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested strongly. “Helen, that man has done more –”
“I know. I’m sorry. This is really important, and you’re basically blackmailing me and asking me to put what I’m doing in jeopardy.”
“I disagree. I’ve seen you and Johnny work through problems together, Helen. You’re stronger as a team than you are individually. I’d think you of all people would realize that.”
“Oh yeah, that worked out great the last time we worked a case together instead of individually. How many more victims died last January before we finally figured out what was really going on?”
“You know where I stand on this. What’s it gonna be? Are you telling him or am I?”
“Can I have an hour to think about it?”
“If you’re not on the phone with him in ten minutes, I’m telling him the truth.”
“I have to go.”
“When will I hear from you again?” she asked.
I snorted softly. “Whenever I have the chance to call. Though if you get your way and I tell Johnny, calling you becomes pretty pointless.”
“Helen, I’m not asking you to tell him what you’re really doing. Just give the man some peace of mind and let him know you’re not in any immediate danger. I’ll still do everything I can to help you and give you the two days you seem to think you need to wrap this up.”
“Then you’ll hear from me in two days.”
“If you don’t call –”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “You’ll tell him the whole story. I get it, Maya.” I clicked off the call before she had the chance to argue another ridiculous point. It was moot anyway, and she was bargaining for a phone call that wasn’t coming.
If calling Johnny would keep Maya’s mouth shut for even another day, it would be worth it. She was right about one thing. I didn’t have to explain what I was doing to give him a little peace of mind. If I’d thought about that in the first place, maybe I wouldn’t have an all-out manhunt underway because I disappeared.
It was a lose-lose proposition. Either way, Johnny wouldn’t accept that I was on the run. At least he wouldn’t accept it until I was out of his reach completely.
Ten minutes. Time to decide. I ran one finger over they keys on the cell phone. He couldn’t trace the number on the pre-paid phone. And no matter what he said, there was no way I would divulge my location or what I was really doing. Not even Maya really knew my true agenda.
I dialed the number. My thumb hovered over send. I pressed the button.
One ring, and: “Orion.”
Silence.
“Hello? I can’t hear you. Is anyone…”
Finger snapping ensued while my voice clogged with emotion. Johnny didn’t sound right.
“Helen? Helen, is that you?”
“You need to stop looking for me, Johnny. I’m not in any danger right now.”
“Oh my God. Baby, where are you?”
“I’m… I’m unharmed, that’s all you need to know. Johnny, you need to focus on getting Sanderfield. It won’t be safe for me to come back until I know he’s behind bars and this thing is shut down for good.”
“Come home. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. Helen, you’re in far more danger out there alone. Tell me where you are. I’ll be there so fast you –”
“No, Johnny. No. We’re doing this my way. I can’t be there. Not until I know that Sanderfield is in custody.”
“Honey, I’ve got people working on it. We’ll get Sanderfield. We’ll get all of them. I can’t focus on anything knowing that you’re out there alone.”
I sucked in a shuddering breath. “This is for the best, Johnny. Please know how much I love you. Believe that I can keep myself safe.”
“Don’t hang up! Helen, I need you here with me. This is killing me. You should’ve come to me instead of running away. Don’t you know I’d do anything to protect you?”
Tears sluiced down my cheeks. “I know you’d try, but Johnny, this is something that I have to do alone.”
“You don’t. You’re not alone anymore. Remember? No more secrets. Honey, please.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Helen, if you love me, you won’t. If you love me, you’ll let me protect you.”
“That’s not fair,” I said.
“It is fair. We too
k vows. It’s us now, sweetheart. Can’t you see that?” Johnny sniffled, his voice hoarse as he continued. “I love you with all of my heart. Don’t shut me out now.”
“If you really do love me that much, do as I ask, Johnny. Get Sanderfield before he ruins someone else’s life.”
I disconnected and crushed the phone under the heel of my boot.
Calling Johnny was a stupid thing to do, even if it did buy me a little more time before Maya decided to confess the rest of her complicity in my disappearance. I had no doubt that she would divulge my secret, but maybe not until it was too late to stop me from doing what had to be done.
Screw daylight. I wasn’t willing to risk a moment of my precious borrowed time. If my phone call fueled Johnny’s determination to find me, he’d accomplish his goal.
I scooped the shattered fragments of the phone off the floor and dumped them into the trash, shut off the coffee maker and retreated to the bathroom for my next disguise. Within the hour, a taxi was speeding toward the rental car haven of Dulles International Airport.
Ted Fields entered the business and used a two-month old credit card for the first time.
“All right, Mr. Fields. You can drop the vehicle off at any Enterprise counter coast to coast, and the fleet you selected is parked along the west fence. Keys are all in the vehicles. Have a good trip.”
I smiled faintly and uttered an obligatory thank you. I slung the bag over my shoulder and made my way to the row of large SUV’s parked along the fence. Perhaps it was subconscious that I was drawn to the Expedition. It could’ve been homesickness. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind.
Darkwater Bay had done me one favor, and that was the only thing I allowed myself to remember. I patted the bag slung over my shoulder. “Thank you Jerry Lowe.”
I started the Expedition and drove out of the lot. This was it. The beginning of the end. How it all played out from this point forward was out of my hands. I thought about my father, about his lessons when I was a child growing up. Did he know the truth, that I wasn’t really his flesh and blood child? If he did, he never showed it.
I was convinced that no child was loved and cherished more than I was. There was no certainty in my heart that the lessons I learned were the ones he intended. Maybe Dad wanted me to be his opposite, not the little girl who followed in his homicidal footsteps.
One lesson in particular was one of the earliest I could remember. I must’ve been four or five years old. Dad came home from his tour of duty, weary and reeking of smoke. Not the tobacco kind, either. I remembered wrinkling my nose after I crawled into his lap. To this day, I can smell it. Heavy, laced with oil or gasoline.
He kissed the side of my head. “Daddy’s tired, Sprout.”
I laid my head against his chest. “I love you, Daddy. Did you have a bad night?”
“I had a good night, believe it or not. Sprout, do you know what second chances are?”
I shook my head. “Tell me a story, Daddy.”
“Which one would you like to hear?” His tired smile and weary eyes shone with love, even though I’m sure now the last thing he wanted to do was regale me with the story of Princess Aurora being awakened from 100 years sleep by her prince.
“Tell me the story of second chances.”
He grinned, I suppose now that because as an adult, I was beginning to realize what a precocious child I was. It made me wonder if my babies would have that particular trait. Would they climb into my lap and ask for stories like I had?
Johnny’s face pierced my thoughts. Better question. Shouldn’t our children have the opportunity to climb into his lap for special memories to be born?
I squinted, resisted the tears and refocused on my memory.
“The story of second chances,” Dad said. He stared up at the ceiling, like the words were etched up there. “I don’t know, Sprout. It’s kind of a sad story.”
“I like sad stories, Daddy!”
The truth of the matter was that I liked spending time on Dad’s knee. He could’ve read me The Shining and I’d have cherished every word, remembered the timbre of his voice in each exquisite and terrifying phrase.
“Well, this is a story of a very sad little boy, with a life that no child should ever have to endure. Do you even know what a second chance is, Sprout?”
I shook my head. “I already said no, Daddy!”
“Hmm, I suppose you did. Well, let’s start with that, shall we? A second chance is like… when you’re playing, and you accidentally break one of your toys. If you had a second chance, it would mean that something in time changed so that you had the opportunity to play more carefully and not break that toy. Does that make sense?”
“Nobody can change time,” I shook my head vehemently. “Is this a fairytale?”
“Well, say for instance that you got a better toy, like the one you broke, only it is much more special to you.”
“So getting the new toy is my second chance?”
“That’s it exactly, Sprout. And how do you suppose you’d use that second chance?”
“I would be very careful not to make the same mistake and break the new toy.”
His lips pressed into my hair. “Such a good, smart little girl. I am so lucky to be your Daddy. Did you know that?”
I tilted my head to the side; I said, “Me too, Daddy. You’re the best one in the whole wide world. Did the sad little boy have a daddy like you?”
Shadows flitted through his eyes. “I’m afraid he didn’t, honey. The little boy who got the second chance had a very bad man for his father.”
“Did he break the law?”
“Sometimes,” Dad nodded. “I suppose he did, sweetheart.”
“Did you put the bad daddy in jail?”
“No,” he whispered, cleared his throat, gazed into my eyes with a sort of wonder. “I didn’t put him in jail, but I gave his little boy the chance to be something better than his dad ever was.”
“What did the bad man do to make his little boy so sad?”
“He hit him. Was cruel to him. That daddy drank all the time, Sprout.”
“Did he drink milk?”
“No, honey, he drank whiskey. It’s a bad kind of alcohol. You’ve seen me drink wine with dinner sometimes, right?”
I nodded. “You even let me have a taste on your pinky one time.”
Dad smiled. “Well, a glass of wine isn’t bad, but it is still alcohol, and some people drink even a good kind of alcohol in a bad way. They drink too much.”
My mother ambled through the room. I’d seen her with a deep crystal glass filled with dark brown fluid a lot, especially when Dad wasn’t home.
“You must always remember that hard liquor is for hard women. It isn’t for ladies, sweetheart.”
“I thought it was the daddy who drank too much.”
“Well, he did, and we must never be with people who dull their minds with too much of anything.”
“What happened to the sad little boy?”
“He was tired of being hurt, I suppose. This poor child was so desperate for even a tiny bit of happiness, that I think he would’ve done anything to find it. He might’ve done something very bad if I hadn’t stopped him, Sprout.”
“And that was his second chance?”
“I suppose it was. Partly at least. He doesn’t have to worry about the bad father any more. He’s safe now, and can have a new daddy who will love him and be kind to him.”
“Are you going to be his new daddy?”
He laughed softly and squeezed my waist. “No, I’ve already got my one and only. I don’t need another child. You’re my shining star, Sprout. And I love you more than anything and anyone in the whole wide world.”
“Daddy, what was the sad little boy’s name?”
“He doesn’t have that name anymore, honey. It’s part of his second chance.”
“But who was he before the second chance?”
Dad patted my head indulgently. “I guess it can’t hurt. His name was Thomas Pete
rson. And now, he’s a brand new little boy, with all the happiness he could ask for right in front of him.”
As I sped north from D.C., I hoped Dad remembered Thomas Peterson. He was about to have an unexpected visit from the sad boy who got a second chance. How fitting, since I was about to give the best father in the history of mankind the second chance he so richly deserved.
Chapter 12
The drive from Washington Dulles to Attica took just over eight hours, thanks to the trampoline that my bladder had become. Even though I couldn’t feel them dancing around in there, I knew that they were doing it. Why else could I go from perfectly comfortable to an urgency I’d never known before in less than five seconds?
I patted my padded belly. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day too.”
The guide for families and friends of inmates in the New York correctional system was comprehensive and vague at the same time. I did plenty of research over the past few months to know the particulars about Attica.
The odds of easier visitation improved during the week. From what I’d read, weekends were a different proposition altogether. I could expect to remove clothing if any metal was present at all.
Check. The business suit, while a little on the cheap cut side, had a plastic zipper and buttons. I didn’t need a belt, thanks to the fat suit.
The ace up my sleeve was a little bit of evidence I hoarded after shooting Alfred Preston. It wasn’t a permanent misappropriation, just long enough to have a replica of his badge, complete with transposed numbers, commissioned from the photographs I was able to snap before everything was bagged and tagged. I could forge the rest of a bureau ID in my sleep. It had only had to be convincing, not perfect to work.
I checked into a local motel, a bit on the fleabag end of the spectrum, and scrubbed the adhesive and facial hair from cheeks and chin. To make the disguise fly in the morning, I’d have to be much more careful in the application. Couldn’t show up to the prison looking shabby while impersonating a federal agent.
That act alone was a felony. The rest of my plan danced so far over the legality line, there was certainly no turning back.
