by LS Sygnet
Johnny dragged himself to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over the side. He rubbed his eyes, let his shoulders slump and sighed heavily. “I guess it doesn’t make sense, and you’re right. He couldn’t have disappeared like that without the press crawling all over him. As for the crew, they lawyered up and haven’t said a word – at least as far as I know.”
“Do you even know where Sanderfield was the night of my abduction?”
“I’m sure David has that information, Helen. It’s not like we were looking at him for involvement in this at the time. OSI was focused on the human trafficking business and had sort of put the campaign finance issue on the back burner.”
“We need to find out. There have to be records if a helicopter flew out to intercept a ship. The pilot would be a witness to the identity of someone who was either picked up or dropped off.”
“Or perhaps Sanderfield didn’t intend to take the full trip in the first place,” Johnny said. “You said something about Gillette talking to someone about something?”
I nodded.
“Perhaps it was the best location they could come up with for a clandestine meeting.”
“Maybe,” I gnawed the inside of my cheek. “But I was a wrench in their plans that night. When I told them that I knew we were on The Celeste, Gutierrez freaked out. That was when Gillette assured him they were basically untouchable – or would be soon. That’s what made me consider Sanderfield’s involvement in the first place. But that’s still not the point. Because I suggested that I wasn’t the only one aware of what they used that ship for, they pulled anchor and left early.”
“So if Sanderfield was onboard, perhaps they had to make alternate arrangements to get him back to shore. Doc, we could be onto something huge here.”
“If Sanderfield was the one on the ship that night. If he doesn’t have an ironclad alibi.”
“C’mon. Señor Tree? Who else could it be?”
“We can’t be sure that’s what I heard. Yeah, he was yelling his head off, but my Spanish isn’t so good, and I was listening through a metal wall.”
Johnny peered up at me. “Are you all right?” He patted the bed with one hand.
“I’m okay.”
“Sit with me.”
I perched about a foot away. Unlike me, Johnny is a furnace when he sleeps and dresses accordingly. It’s something I’ve sorely missed these past few weeks, the constant heat source.
“I didn’t mean to scare you when I came charging in here.”
“It’s fine,” Johnny said. “I’m glad you woke me up right away. Like I said, the way dreams are, if you waited, who knows?”
“You think I would’ve forgotten it?”
“Probably not. You might’ve convinced yourself that it wasn’t important though. It might not lead anywhere, but at least it gives us another avenue of investigation.”
“Will you call David later and tell him what I remembered?”
“He’s probably up right now. I swear the man sleeps less than you used to. Is that something they teach at Quantico?”
“Job hazard. If you don’t sleep, you don’t revisit monsters and their victims.”
Johnny slid next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “And those monsters and victims in your past, how many still haunt you, Helen?”
“Too many to count.”
“Did you ever talk to anybody about them?”
I nodded. “It was mandatory when I was with the bureau. They thought it would help. I suppose it’s true in theory, but then the next case came along, something worse than you’d seen the last time, and it would all come flooding back.”
“I can’t imagine every case sticking with me,” Johnny said. “Of course, I know I haven’t seen a fraction of what you have over the years. It’s one thing for a couple of drunks to get into a knife fight outside a bar, or in it, or some wife to shoot her husband in his sleep. Those aren’t exactly the kinds of cases the bureau handled. I know you saw the worst of the worst.”
“You saw one of them too,” I said softly. “You were haunted by Brighton Bennett for years, Johnny, what happened to that poor child. It’s hard to let those things go.”
He sighed. “That was the worst for me. I’m sure it pales in comparison to what you’ve investigated, Helen. Don’t try to be noble and pretend we have equivalent experience.”
“For the most part, I could deal with what they threw at me. I handled the depravity of my fellow man with a sense of detachment that they taught me in school. There were some cases though…”
Johnny propped his chin on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Helen.”
“Thanks.”
“You know you can tell me anything,” he said. “If it helps at all.”
My hand came to rest over our sons. “It was always children, Johnny. Things you cannot imagine that people did to them. Their own parents sometimes. It’s always been the nightmare for me. And now…”
“We already love them, Helen.”
“The world is so full of danger. Do you want to know something I’ve never told anyone before?”
“Please.”
“My choice not to have children, it was never because I disliked them. In fact, it was the opposite, Johnny. They’re innocent. I’ve always been afraid for them, probably because of what I’ve seen, but even before, some of the stuff that Dad dealt with, I realized how many kids didn’t grow up in homes like mine, with a father like that.”
“Our children are blessed to have you for their mother.” Johnny’s fingers massaged my shoulder gently. “But, you’re right. The world is a dangerous place. I have to believe that we can keep them safe. Helen, I failed you more than once. It’s no surprise that you’ve got doubts based on that alone.”
“But I don’t doubt you. What happened to me, none of it was ever your fault. Not really. You need to know, my recent behavior aside, I’m through taking those crazy risks. The more I feel, the more these children become very real to me. I could never risk their safety.”
“I wish you’d start feeling that way about yourself. Regardless of what else happens, I hope you realize what a void would be left behind if anything happened to you.”
Regardless of what else happens? What was that supposed to mean? My heart jumped with thoughts of incarceration after delivery. I eased out of his grip. “I think I’ll try to get back to sleep now. Thanks for listening, Johnny.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue.
Nervous energy sent me bolting back down the stairs. Dear God. Johnny still wasn’t sure about giving me a second chance.
Chapter 28
I slept in until almost eleven. Well, technically, I didn’t fall asleep again until eight because I was so upset thinking about my future fate. Was our truce nothing more than a ploy? I couldn’t believe Johnny would be so deceptive, but then again… wouldn’t that be an ironic twist of fate if the lies were all his this time?
Surely I had the house to myself by this hour. I poked my head out the door tentatively. Silence. No TV, no muffled conversations. Nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief and strolled into the kitchen.
Johnny prayed for another good day between us. It was good to have a reprieve. I prayed in my own way too, that what I felt was raging paranoia and not foreshadowing of events to come. Fear whispered the word karma into my ear and reminded me that even if Johnny lied to me, it wasn’t exactly undeserved.
What a roller coaster week. We’d gone from ready to shed blood on Monday when we had the appointment with Dr. Harvey to achieving a cease fire with David on Wednesday, to date-day Thursday, and today, my paranoia returned with a vengeance.
I opened the freezer door and pulled out a strawberry shake. Had Johnny meant what it sounded like when I flew into his room with the details of my nightmare?
A voice from behind startled me. “You’re up.”
I dropped the shake on the floor. One hand flew to my chest. “You scared me half to death! Why aren’t you at work?”
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The words were a little sharper than I intended. Or were they? Why was he lurking around so silently in the middle of the day?
“I’m sorry,” Johnny said. He moved toward me and picked up the shake before it leaked all over the kitchen tile. “I was trying to be quiet so I didn’t disturb you.”
Really. Really? My eyes narrowed. “Did you talk to David this morning?”
“Yes. You want a fresh milkshake?”
I waved it away. “Changed my mind.”
“Helen, is something wrong?”
“No, of course not. You just startled me. And I feel like I slept wrong.” I rubbed the back of my neck. More than my muscles felt taut and strained. He felt it too.
“Did I say something wrong this morning? I feel like –”
“It’s not you,” I said. “Not everything is about you, or…” one hand waved wildly between us, “this.”
“Would you like to hear what David thought of your memory?”
“Only if it’s good news,” I said. Back to the fridge. Something else to drink. Juice? Blech. My stomach was already overflowing with acid of its own production. I grabbed a bottle of ginger ale and stomped over to the pantry for crackers. Johnny’s sigh followed me. He had the wisdom to keep his distance.
So much for your prayers being answered, buddy. Oh, and pay attention, foolish heart. This is what happens when the brain is forced out in some obscene coup.
“He was pretty excited, Helen. He said he’d put someone on Sanderfield’s whereabouts the night of the abduction. After I got off the phone with him, I did a little digging of my own. He was at a fundraiser dinner that night.”
I came out of the pantry munching soda crackers from an open sleeve. “Let me guess. It didn’t end until long after I was abducted, and he’s got 500 witnesses that will swear out affidavits that he was never out of their sight until midnight.”
“It was over at nine, and you should see this for yourself.” Johnny beckoned with one hand and trusted me to follow.
Curiosity got the better of me. I followed him into the office, where he held out the chair at the desk for me.
I stared at the computer screen. Sanderfield, an oversize American flag behind him, stood at a podium waving his fist like a rabid evangelical instead of a dirty politician. The caption in the online version of the Sentinel read, Sanderfield warns of the dangers of big state government and asserts that OSI is the first symptom of what Collangelo plans to do to the state.
“Lovely,” I said. “So while Gillette was promising me that it wouldn’t matter if they were arrested or not, his buddy was laying the ground work to make that statement reality. It’s not exactly a smoking gun.”
“Look at the background closer, Helen. Recognize that room?”
I frowned. Yeah, it did look vaguely familiar. “Oh my God. It’s the same banquet hall where the department had it’s Christmas party in December.” My head snapped around toward Johnny. “He was here. In Darkwater Bay the night I was abducted.”
Johnny nodded. “And that’s not all. Read the article.”
Blah, blah, blah, platform nonsense, rhetoric, speech writer liked to use inflammatory speech – gee, big surprise there. My eyes skidded to a halt. “He didn’t stick around for the requisite sound bites to the press?”
“Nope,” Johnny said, “and this particular reporter wasn’t too pleased about that fact. None of the donors at the dinner were too happy either. You can click on a link in the sidebar to read some of their reactions.”
“Give me the gist of it.”
“He came to lecture. He’s less interested in the concerns of his constituents than he is telling people everything our current governor has done wrong. Somebody even mentioned the irony that he bashed the good Joe tried to do by creating OSI from the very building that Danny Datello owned.”
“Ouch.”
“No wonder he has so little support in this area’s polls, eh? He managed to alienate the few supporters he had here that night. I might add, the number didn’t come close to 500, Doc. More like a stretch to say 200.”
“I see,” I said. My eyes scanned the rest of the story. “Which is one of the theories submitted for his abrupt and early departure from the even at… eight forty-five.”
“He could’ve been on that ship when Gillette made the decision to sail early.”
“What, with his entourage of security? You’re right about one thing.”
His hand brushed my shoulder. “Only one?”
I ignored it. “The more I think about that dream, the more I have to ask myself if it wasn’t just a bout of wishful thinking.”
Johnny squatted beside me and clasped one of my hands in his. “Talk to me, Helen. Why do I feel like you’re a billion miles away again?”
When I tried to block out the question by a pointed stare at the computer screen, Johnny swiveled the chair away from the desk. “We had such a wonderful day yesterday. Has something changed? It felt like maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
He shrugged. “I want my… I want Helen back,” he said softly. “The one who talks to me, who isn’t cold and angry and distant. Believe me, your sarcasm has never offended me, but today, I feel like it’s aimed at my throat again. Will you at least tell me what I did wrong?”
I closed my eyes and clamped teeth over my lower lip tightly.
“Helen, I know something is wrong. Tell me what happened. Was it because I was a bit dismissive of the dream at first?”
“Whatever you think you see, it’s just –”
“This isn’t hormones, Helen. Something is wrong. Please don’t shut me out again. We stood in this room yesterday and had the first completely honest conversation without any pressure that we’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Regardless of what else happens, right?” I echoed the words he spoke in the early morning hour with deep bitterness. “Because regardless of what else happens, these children will be born, and they’ll need a good parent.”
“I –” Johnny’s forehead rippled with consternation. “What are you talking about, Helen? Have you made your decision already?”
“Decision? What decision?”
“About me. Us.”
I’m pretty sure my expression mirrored his. “What the hell are you talking about?”
The hard swallow sounded unnaturally loud. “Wednesday night,” he said. “That decision.”
Shock. Confusion. I literally had no idea what he meant. I skimmed through the files of memory searching for a clue. Nothing. “Johnny, what decision Wednesday night?”
“About us,” he said softly. “If you want to try to make our marriage work, or if… if you’d rather be rid of me.”
I yanked my hand free. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”
“Don’t get mad. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I think you’re insane! When you took that ring off my finger, I thought you were telling me that you didn’t need to see me wearing a symbol of ownership, not that you wanted me to decide if we stay married or not!” Every second of the previous day was weighed in light of this new context. His apparent focus on the news instead of demanding that we finish our conversation, the tension when I snuggled up to him on the sofa, the reluctance and retreat when I didn’t hide my desire for intimacy – it told a completely different story than the one I imagined. That story was capped off with a very paranoid moment this morning. Regardless of what else happens no longer felt like a prison sentence waiting for me. Instead, it sounded like Johnny didn’t want to presume that I would choose our marriage over my freedom.
“You’re angry with me again.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m not angry, I’m stunned.”
“Why? Is it so unusual to believe that after how I behaved, the least I owe you is the right to reconsider –”
I planted two fingers over his lips. “Stop digging yourself into a deeper hole.”
“Will you at least tell me what yo
u thought?” he mumbled behind my fingertips.
Liquid heat shot up my arm. I yanked my hand away. “I already did.”
Johnny shook his head. “Not about the ring, Helen. I should’ve made myself clear Wednesday night. Why did it make you so angry – upset maybe – when I said that regardless of what else happens that losing you would be more than my personal loss, but would make the world somehow less?”
The chin took a dive for the chest. Fingers twisted together with nervous energy.
“Helen?” Johnny reached into my lap and stilled my hands. “Look at me. Talk to me. Can’t you see how much I want to work through this?”
“No wonder you had so much hope yesterday,” I said. “I chose to be honest. Could choosing our marriage be far behind? That’s what you thought. Right?”
“Please look at me.”
I did. “Johnny, I want my ring back. I never wanted you to take it away from me in the first place. I never chose to end our marriage. In fact, I couldn’t leave you because… because…”
“Because why?”
“I love you too much to hurt you that way. Yes, part of it was because I’m pregnant and I didn’t believe it was right to deprive our children of their wonderful father. But the truth is, I couldn’t imagine never seeing you or speaking to you again for the rest of my life.”
“What did you think I meant this morning?”
I sucked in a shuddered breath. “It occurred to me, in light of how angry what I did made you, that perhaps I’m only living on borrowed time here anyway.” Tears started leaking from the corners of my eyes. “Maybe the police would be waiting to arrest me at the hospital in a few months.”
“So, regardless of what else happens.”
I nodded.
“Then why did you share everything with me yesterday? I mean, if you really believed that, why would you let me in for a single second?”
“I guess you weren’t the only one who had a little bit of hope.”
