Sins of the Father

by LS Sygnet

  It segued the conversation into a realm I hadn’t yet imagined. I ended up ordering sheet sets, bumper pads, decorative pillows, dust ruffles and just about anything else you could imagine, right down to matching hand crafted mobiles for the cribs. Annell would make the soft jungle animals by hand and ship them off to a company that would attach them to the mobile.

  “We just need to decide what song you want each mobile to play.” She winked at me. “I’m guessing that we won’t be going with anything as traditional as Brahms, not that there’s anything wrong with it.”

  I picked two songs from the Disney original Jungle Book. It seemed fitting.

  “Oooh,” she cooed, “they are going to be two pampered little princes!”

  A fragment of reality intruded. Yes, they would be, at least until they were born. Then it was anybody’s guess what Johnny would do with me. All I had was this.

  And a little bit of perverse pleasure that while Johnny could track my movements – as Annell said, ‘til the stars fall – he couldn’t be part of what I was doing. He couldn’t make me tell him. He had no say whatsoever in the one gift I knew I’d give my sons.

  Those kinds of thoughts filled me with bitterness and spite. I dug the cell phone out of my purse and dialed from memory.

  One ring. Two rings. I pictured him digging the cell out of his pocket, then, “Detective Mackenzie.”

  “Hey you.”

  “Helen?” His voice dipped low.

  “Yes,” I drawled. “Are you by any chance free for lunch?”

  “Uh…”

  “Oh c’mon. I’m in Downey. We could hit someplace close to OSI. You’ve got to eat. Surely that dastardly taskmaster of yours lets you take time to eat.”

  He chuckled softly. “Any other day, I’d say no problem.”

  “Hmm, I heard. His lord on high has descended from the pearly gates of Montgomery for a day of grim discussions.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Not really. Obviously you’re not in the thick of things, being the pond scum that you are in the grand scheme of law enforcement. Fill me in over lunch. We can hit Bertolli’s.”

  “Chris just stepped out of the conference room. Let me run it by him and call you right back.”

  The reply came in the form of a text. Bertolli’s five minutes. CU soon. Punctuated with a smiley emoticon. I met him in seven.

  Devlin hugged me on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. “You sounded fabulous when you called. Look at you! This is new.” Devlin ruffled my hair playfully.

  “Don’t you just hate it?”

  “Eh,” he shrugged. “It’ll grow back if your not in love with it. I think you could shave your head and still look gorgeous.”

  “Ah, you’re exactly what I needed today. Come on. Let’s go order. I’m starving.”

  It took me all of thirty seconds with a menu to decide on lunch. Soup, salad, and an enormous plate of fettuccini smothered in Alfredo sauce and Alaskan king crab. “Do you have any yummy garlic bread? Piping hot, crispy, smothered in butter and fresh parmesan?”

  “I think that can happen,” our waitress grinned.

  “And a giant glass of sweet tea,” I said. “Easy on the ice.”

  Chuckling, Devlin ordered steak and a baked potato.

  “You have absolutely no sense of culinary adventure,” I said.

  “Tell me what put you in such a great mood.”

  I grinned. “Johnny’s at work. What’s not to love?”

  “Helen…”

  “Oh all right. I’ve been spending money like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “That sounds more like it. So what do these purchases include? That’s a new blouse, isn’t it? Very flattering.”

  The waitress returned with my soup, salad and tea and Devlin’s coffee.

  “I’ve been buying baby furniture.”

  “Ah,” he nodded. “No wonder you’re flying at about 37 thousand feet. I’m glad you’re having so much fun. Do I get to know any of the details or is this a state secret until you’re ready for a ribbon cutting ceremony?”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I like that idea. I can have a party to reveal my nursery masterpiece.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Tell me about your day. Life. Seems like forever since we’ve actually been able to kick back and have a real conversation.” I dug into the bowl of hearty tortellini soup and rolled my eyes. “Mmm! So good. Want a bite?”

  Devlin speared the spinach in the salad that came with his meal. “I’m good.”

  “So how are you?”

  “Eh, a little stressed given the atmosphere at work these days.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Dev. I suppose it didn’t help matters when I shared my changing belly with you the other day.”

  “At this point, I think Johnny’s got more on his mind than simple jealousy. Everybody’s been dreading today for the past month.”

  My spoon hung suspended in midair. “That long?”

  “I’m sure Johnny tried to shield you from what was going on, considering everything you’ve been through, but yeah. We’re pretty sure that by close of business today, we’ll all be packing our belongings for good. Johnny keeps assuring us that we’ll be okay. I don’t know though. I’m pretty sure the bridges are burned with Darkwater Bay’s PD. After what happened with Andy, I’m not sure I could stand to go back to Montgomery.”

  “What does Chris say?”

  Devlin munched a cherry tomato in silence.

  “He’s retiring for good if Collangelo shuts down OSI, isn’t he?”

  Nod. “I think he’s done today no matter what. He’s pretty disgusted with the whole thing, says he’s so over vitriolic politics that he thinks his eyes and ears will bleed if he sees or hears one more nasty campaign ad or reads one more cutthroat story in the papers.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You know, it’s a funny thing. When I first came to Darkwater Bay, I didn’t like Chris very much. Boy did he ever change my mind. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man so honorable in my life.”

  “I know what you mean. Your call today really lifted my spirits. It’s been pretty glum around there anyway, no matter what we’re doing. Distraction only works to a point.”

  “So Johnny didn’t offer any explanation to why he believes everything will be all right?”

  Devlin snorted softly. “He’s got this great idea that if Joe shuts us down, rather than letting the state police absorb us, which sounds like a pretty iffy option anyway on account of Sanderfield harping about budget stuff, he thinks we should develop a new service for his security business. I know the place is a real money maker, Helen. Johnny’s not some dirt poor cop living from paycheck to paycheck, but adding the salaries for three full time investigators is pretty daunting. We have to earn at a certain level.”

  “Three? Johnny wants to include Chris too?”

  “Yeah, that’s his plan. The four of us would provide investigations in the multiple areas where the cops fail – for a fee. It assumes something that frankly, I don’t think exists.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Sanderfield is right about one thing to my way of thinking. Our economy is in the toilet. Even the people that could afford to hire us aren’t spending money like they used to – present company excluded of course.”

  I grinned. “Yesterday I dropped over eight grand on two cradles for my bedroom. That doesn’t count what I spent on furniture for the proper nursery.”

  “There you go,” he said. “Thanks for making my point. So when I overheard something I know Johnny didn’t want anybody to hear, I figured that maybe he’s looking for a quick infusion of cash to make this thing happen. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t bother me, but the way he’s going about it.” Dev shook his head slowly. “Not my thing.”

  If Johnny needed a quick infusion of cash, he knew I’d help, especially if it meant protecting Chris, Devlin and Crevan. “What did you overhear?”

  “No wa
y. I’m not getting in the middle of this. Let’s just leave it at what I said.”

  “Devlin.”

  “I know about the brownstone and your folks house on Long Island,” he said softly. “How would any of us ever feel right about you being forced to sell them just so Johnny can afford to pay us the minimum of what we’d need to earn to stay flush? C’mon, Helen. Experienced police detectives cost a hell of a lot more than the security guards he employs already.”

  I tried really hard to school the shock and outrage Devlin’s confession elicited. I failed.

  His eyes widened. “He didn’t tell you that he talked to a realtor? Shit. I need to shut up.”

  Blood boiled in my veins. Bile bubbled in the back of my throat. “Make no mistake. If he’s trying to sell my properties behind my back, it has nothing to do with needing a quick infusion of cash for his business.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh come on, Devlin! You’re smarter than this. He’s pissed off because I had somewhere to run when I left Darkwater Bay. This is absolutely not about money. That fool! Stupid man. I could afford to buy a hundred houses all over the world and it wouldn’t make a dent in my financial situation.”

  “Geez, Helen. I knew you had money, but I didn’t know you were that loaded.”

  “Tens of millions. And for the record, my father had the money. Plus, he was one hell of an investor. Not only that, when Rick died, he hadn’t changed the beneficiary on his life insurance policy from when we took them out just after we got married. That was another two million.”

  “Holy crap. Maybe I should be asking you for a job.”

  He watched my expression change. Hell, I felt it.

  “Helen, that was a joke.”

  “It might’ve been, but it was also a brilliant idea. One that my allegedly intelligent husband never thought of.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  I jerked my leg out from under the table and displayed my GPS companion. “Don’t I?”

  “Jesus! Is that –”

  “A house arrest anklet? Yes.”

  His eyes darted nervously toward the door.

  “Calm down. He doesn’t care where I am, so long as he knows. Tell me this, Devlin. Why was this the preferable option in my husband’s mind rather than using one of his employees as a bodyguard for me? I’ll tell you why. It wouldn’t have been humiliating enough.” I shook my head vehemently. “This shit ends now. Whatever OSI is paying you, I’ll double it. You can work for me. I’ll pay up front.”

  Devlin nearly choked on his salad. “Are you nuts? He’d kill the both of us! Besides, what would I do when you’re no longer in danger?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll finance some competition for Johnny. You can run the show, your own business.”

  “No way, Helen. No way. It would be suicide.”

  “Then go to work for him and I’ll hire you that way.”

  Dev fell silent.

  “What?”

  “I think he’s already got the first investigation planned, one that won’t bring a red cent into his agency, I might add.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not supposed to know about it.”

  “Devlin Mackenzie, have you been spending all your time eavesdropping?”

  “It was something I overheard him say to Crevan a couple of weeks ago, right after you came home, actually. I was curious, did a little digging around on my own time.”

  Our entrees arrived. I pushed my plates off to the side and dug into the pasta. “Spill it. It’s got to be huge if you’re acting so freaky about it. Did you find something on Sanderfield? I’m having dinner with David tonight. I’d be happy to pass the info along if you’re unsure how to –”

  “Helen, it’s not about Sanderfield,” he interrupted. “It’s about you.”

  “Me? He’s investigating me?”

  “Well, not really. Your family, specifically your mother. I couldn’t believe what I heard Crevan say, Helen. I can’t believe you know about it. If you did, you’d have said something when we were working the Datello and Villanueva cases.”

  “What is it?”

  His voice dropped so low, it was almost a whisper. “I heard Crevan tell him that your mom’s stepfather is from Darkwater Bay.”

  “Knew that,” I said. “Not while we were working the case though. I found out… well, from my father. Posthumously.” It was just a little lie. Necessary.

  “His name, Helen. Wasn’t there anything about his name that stuck out?”

  “Lyle?”

  “Lyle Henderson. Henderson, Helen.”

  So, that was Johnny’s next move. Dragging Crevan to the truth through a legitimate investigation.

  Chapter 22

  Rack of lamb with a savory Dijon crust roasted in the oven. Mint jelly chilled in the refrigerator. New potatoes were seasoned to perfection. Baby peas swam in a creamy butter sauce. The wine was breathing. And none of it erased the noxious fumes coming from the guest room.

  Even with the door closed and the west-facing windows open, the house filled with the malodorous scent of fresh wet paint. The contractor assured me that despite the smell, they used a product that was non-toxic to pregnant women.

  It sure didn’t help settle my discriminating stomach.

  David would arrive in less than fifteen minutes. I slid the patio doors open in the family room and sucked in great gulps of the mild evening air blowing in off the Pacific. Surely this would help cut the odds that David and I would both suffer blinding headaches before the end of dinner.

  I frowned. Was it my imagination, or did I hear the low rumble of an automatic garage door opener? My eyes fluttered shut. This was so not what I needed to cap off what had been an otherwise pretty good day. Why was Johnny home? He said not to expect him until late. I deprived myself of sleep all day to make sure I’d be passed out from exhaustion before he came home. I wasn’t sure I had the stamina to control my temper with him in front of David.

  Voices floated through the garage door. So, he brought David to dinner.

  The moment they stepped into the house, the conversation died.

  Then, “What the hell? Helen!”

  I was getting sick and tired of him barking my name like that. Insufficient stamina, remember? I growled. “I thought you were going to be out late.”

  “Why does it reek like a chemical plant in here?”

  I rolled my eyes, chose to ignore the question and hugged my friend.

  David smiled weakly. “Is that rack of lamb trying to overpower something… else?”

  “It’s not that bad. I’ve opened the patio doors. Give it a few minutes.”

  “What is it exactly?”

  “Some crack investigator you are,” I sneered. “It’s paint, which the contractor assured me is not harmful for me to breathe in my delicate condition. Thanks for bringing David over. You may leave now.”

  David’s eyes widened.

  “I’m not going anywhere, so you may as well set an extra plate, sweetheart.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips.

  I dragged air into my lungs, opened my mouth to vent a spectacular piece of mind but stopped at David’s stunned expression.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Johnny shot me a warning glance. “Bad day at the office and hormones do not mix.”

  “Bullshit. Let’s not forget that I’m paid to profile human behavior for a living. You two are about ten seconds away from hand to hand combat, and I think I really need an explanation.”

  “It’s a distinct lack of forgiveness,” I said. “Somebody is still pissed off that I took matters of self-preservation into my very own capable hands.”

  Johnny grunted in disgust. “Lack of forgiveness? Doesn’t that imply that you apologized for what you did, Helen? Excuse me, but I must’ve been absent for that conversation.”

  “Forgive me –”

  “I’d love to if I heard a sincere apology.”

  “Forgive me but I don’t thin
k I need to apologize for looking out for my personal safety. You sure as hell haven’t done a very good job catching the bad guys and putting an end to this mess.”

  “So it was better to run off and let me fear the worst? We agonized over what happened to you for days, Doc.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “And you didn’t give a damn about any of our feelings. No, not you. Same as always, you put your self-interest above everything and everybody else. Tell me something, David,” he pivoted 45 degrees toward my friend. “Was she always so goddamned impulsive and self destructive when she was with the bureau? Running off on her own, never considering the consequences of going after a suspect without proper backup?”

  “We call it person of interest now,” I sneered. “Dinosaur.”

  “Enough!”

  I stared, stunned.

  “Whatever is going on between the two of you is clearly more serious than what I’ve had the misfortune of hearing tonight. A bit of stress and some hormonal changes are not an adequate stimulus for world war three. If you won’t tell me the truth about what’s going on here, please accept my advice in the spirit intended. Talk to a professional. Your marriage is absolutely headed in the wrong direction.”

  “There is no marriage. Not when he thinks he fucking owns me! Really, David, perhaps you should be investigating him as the likely suspect who tried to buy me. Maybe he thought I’d turn down his marriage proposal and slavery was plan B.”

  Johnny looked like he could’ve strangled me on the spot – or thrown up in disgust over the vile accusation. Fortunately, the timer on the oven chimed and interrupted all out warfare.

  “I’m hungry. If anyone wants dinner, I’ll be eating in the dining room tonight.”

  David followed me into the butler’s pantry. “Helen, I should leave. You need talk to your husband about this. I’ve never seen two people more devoted to each other. I can’t believe what I just witnessed. This should be the happiest time of your lives right now.”

  I snorted, “It is, when we’re not around each other.”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Listen to me. I understand why you did what you did. Fear does things to people, incomprehensible reactions in other contexts. Look at this from his point of view for a second. He was terrified too, and then he discovered that you escaped your captors but didn’t turn to him for help. It hurt him, Helen. Why do things hurt us? Because of love.”