Cloaked in Blood

Home > Other > Cloaked in Blood > Page 15
Cloaked in Blood Page 15

by LS Sygnet


  “Do more than try, Sprout. If Levine is back in town, it’s definitely not a good sign.”

  I depressed the button that controlled the gate. “Do whatever you can to keep Danny from freaking out. You know he will. He doesn’t trust David, and I can’t say that I completely disagree with him at this point.”

  In less than a minute, David was rushing through the courtyard toward the front door. He hugged me and kissed my cheek. “You’re looking a little wan, Helen. Is everything all right? Has something else happened since we last spoke?”

  “No, and if I’m looking wan, that’s probably why. The lack of progress is starting to get to me. Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming back to Darkwater Bay, David? Or are you here to inform me that I’m being served a subpoena for a deposition?”

  He laughed. “Of course not. I told you it’s unlikely. We’ve got plenty of evidence without Franchetta’s testimony. In fact, I’ve got rather good news. Before we get into all of that, have you got any coffee?”

  I nodded and led the way into the kitchen.

  “Where’s Johnny?”

  “Working,” I said. “Of course, we can’t possibly share any of the details with me in my delicate condition.”

  “It’s probably for the best,” David said. “All of this stress can’t be good for you and the babies.”

  No, it really couldn’t be. David’s concern seemed genuine enough to me, which only served to irritate me more. Was he truly this good at feigning sincerity?

  “Something’s wrong, isn’t it, Helen? Please tell me you and Johnny aren’t fighting again.”

  “Everything between us is fine.”

  “But not you and someone else?”

  Anger bubbled barely below the surface. Damned emotions. They really were getting harder to harness behind the veneer of I-don’t-give-a-damn.

  “Call it gut instinct, David, but I think you’re lying to me.”

  He sobered.

  “I’ve felt it for months, since Rick’s funeral to be precise.”

  “Helen, we’ve talked about this –”

  “And still, my instincts persist. Why was Joel Soule in Darkwater Bay when Sofia Datello was abducted?”

  Shock registered in his eyes. “What makes you think he was here?”

  “Didn’t he tell you that we spoke at Metro State University Hospital? He was the one who informed me that my efforts to save Danny Datello’s life were in vain. I know the bureau is good, David, but there’s no way that they could’ve sent a team to Darkwater Bay in less than an hour after learning that I shot Alfred Preston. So what were they doing here? Still investigating me, perhaps?”

  “You’re being paranoid. Helen, it’s not rocket science. We had a vested interest in Danny Datello. He provided the best evidence we’ve got against Sullivan Marcos.”

  “You played dumb when I asked for information about Alfred Preston. Was he part of Soule’s team? I already know he was in on Seleeby’s witch hunt.”

  “I didn’t play dumb. I told you what I recalled about him.”

  “There are over thirteen thousand agents in the FBI, David. You can’t possibly know them all.”

  “I never claimed to. Where is all this raging paranoia coming from, Helen? I feel like suddenly I’m the enemy here.”

  “It’s coming from my gradual realization that you’ve been lying to me for a very long time, David.”

  His hands perched on his hips. “If I didn’t care about you, about our friendship, why would I try to help you reconcile with your husband? Why would I specifically request assignment to this investigation out here? If I didn’t care about you more than the average victim of a violent crime, why would I be so invested in seeing this case closed?”

  “You tell me. What’s your motive? What haven’t you told me about this investigation? I won’t believe that you’ve been completely forthcoming, David. There are just too many things that don’t add up.”

  “Like Soule’s presence in Darkwater Bay when Datello died.”

  “Exactly,” I snarled. My brain screamed liar! That dead man was two floors above us, and the surface of David’s lies had barely been scratched. My gut twisted in knots with the knowledge, the surety that David was lying to me.

  He went on the offensive. “And you’ve been completely honest with me? How many times have you lied to me in the past year, Helen? First, you knew nothing about Rick’s death. Then your husband insinuates it could’ve been suicide. Then you were there. Andy Gillette implicated a man running for governor of this state as a conspirator in your kidnapping, yet you lied by omission, and lest you forget, you kept the entire FBI in the dark when you knew this thing was about more than a single kidnapping. What did you do instead of being honest? You staged your own abduction to run off and search for answers on your own. What else are you hiding from me?”

  Before I could respond, the phone rang. I grabbed the respite from this confrontation and answered it. “What?”

  “Sprout, stop antagonizing him. We can hear you all the way up here in this attic hideaway. Danny’s about to suffer the vapors. We don’t want Levine suspicious.”

  “I’m not interested. Please add this number to your do not call list.” I hung up the phone and struggled for a little composure, a little perspective, a hell of a lot of control. It would take nothing less than all to tamp down my rage. I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Well? What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

  “Everything you’ve accused me of lying about, I’ve already explained. I had no reason to trust the FBI long before Rick killed himself. You know as well as I do that Seleeby was on a witch hunt, David. The bureau threw me under the bus the day Rick was arrested for laundering money for Marcos. I was too smart to be ignorant, remember? Do you think I didn’t see the way people looked at me after that? All the doubts because of who I am resurfaced. What could anyone expect? Wendell Eriksson’s daughter, no surprise there that she turned out to be a criminal after all. A real chip of the old block.”

  “Dammit, Helen.”

  “And my suspicions about Sanderfield were just that. A wild theory that there’s still precious little evidence was accurate.”

  “Except that he too is now dead.”

  “Am I a suspect in that murder too?”

  “That’s not fair. Even if you didn’t have an ironclad alibi, I’d never suspect you of killing Sanderfield. He had answers, Helen, answers I know you’re desperate for.”

  “I am, but Gillette had them too. I killed him.”

  “In self defense!”

  “So making excuses for me, that’s supposed to rebuild my trust? I don’t think so, David. This pregnancy has dulled my wit. But I’ve had little else to do but ponder everything that’s happened to me over the past several months. There’s too much that doesn’t add up. There have been too many times that you or someone else from the FBI has suddenly appeared without explanation. It’s not a coincidence. All your assurances that I have nothing to worry about are lies. I don’t believe them anymore. I don’t believe that you’re here about anything but Franchetta’s ever-changing story. So stop playing games with me and spit it out. Tell me the truth for once. Why are you really here?”

  David sighed and slid onto one of the kitchen barstools. “I should’ve known that you’d start asking the questions I’ve prayed wouldn’t come. You are too smart, Helen. Too smart for your own good.”

  “So I’m still a suspect.”

  “God, no,” he said.

  Our eyes met and held.

  “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Then tell me the truth.”

  “Will you be honest with me too for a change?”

  My arms folded over my chest.

  “Fine. Franchetta changed his story to suicide because I confronted him with the truth after Danny Datello’s arrest. He caved, Helen. He admitted that he knew all along that you were innocent.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

&
nbsp; He threw up his hands. How could he convince me, when I made up my mind that no answer would be satisfactory? There was no way. Push came to shove. I stood with my father, with Datello, ironically. To my way of seeing things, we were interested in true justice, not the kind that resulted in a win for the Justice Department. Lawyers are a sickening lot of creatures after all. They don’t want less than perfect cases where a win is assured. If they’d done the right thing and prosecuted Rick instead of trying to flip him on Marcos, none of this would be happening.

  “But now he didn’t take the gun that they found in Sully’s waste processing plant,” I said. “Has no clue at all how it got there, isn’t that what you said? Someone wants him to lie and change his story, to implicate me in Rick’s murder, when in fact, we know that it wasn’t a murder at all. Christ, the insurance company even reduced the amount of his life insurance payout after the bureau officially ruled his death a suicide.”

  “We know where the pressure to change his story is coming from, Helen. If Marcos can point a finger at you, it alleviates his culpability.”

  “But then, you’ve still got the Datello disk. And Sully isn’t aware of it at all. Isn’t that what you expect me to believe?”

  David cursed softly. “No, Helen, Marcos knows there are more charges that we could file against him. He knows we’ve got the disk that he sent Southerby out here to find, not just last fall, but sixteen years ago when Ireland was murdered too.”

  “So you knew that Datello was innocent. When did you know? When I arrested him? Was that why you showed up? You not only wanted the files, but you wanted to make sure we were capable of protecting the government’s star witness.”

  “It isn’t like that, Helen.”

  “It’s exactly like that. If Datello were acquitted of the charges against him, you could’ve swooped in and snatched him to be your star witness. Too bad Preston got to him first. Or were you aware that Preston was dirty? Is that why Soule was out here? Was he spying on me, or keeping tabs on a dirty agent?”

  “We had reason to be suspicious of Preston. I told you he went on the record supporting the case Seleeby tried to build against you.”

  “And what did you learn when Seleeby was summoned back to Washington, David? Did he admit that he tried to coerce Franchetta into lying about what happened to Rick the night he died?”

  “He stuck to his story. Franchetta told him he witnessed the murder of Rick Hamilton. Marcos’ defense team wants to subpoena Seleeby to testify to that conversation. I told you Franchetta is impeachable. The prosecutor isn’t going to put him on the stand, Helen. We can’t risk it.”

  “So my involvement in this –”

  “Is moot. Marcos isn’t charged with anything related to Rick’s death. And why would he be? It was suicide.”

  “And you think the gun in Sully’s waste management facility isn’t going to be submitted into the trial evidence? If the prosecution doesn’t introduce it, how will they explain why the bureau and Homeland Security took over the investigation of an industrial accident? You can be damn sure the defense will mention it, and they’ll point directly at me.”

  My cell phone chimed into the deafening silence.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  I suspected who it was. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and activated the screen. Get rid of him, Helen. Stop arguing and send him away.

  “Johnny?” David asked.

  “No, a friend. I’m sorry, David, but I need to leave for a little while.”

  “I’ll stay here and wait for Johnny to get back.”

  “You won’t. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay with us this time. I won’t have the FBI in my home, spying on me, lying to me.”

  “You don’t mean that,” David said quietly.

  “Helen? What’s going on?”

  I’d been so engrossed in verbal warfare with David that I hadn’t even heard the garage door open. Johnny stood in the doorway staring at me with a rather disapproving expression.

  “I was just telling David that he needs to leave.”

  His fingers quickly gripped my upper arm and steered me toward the office. “Excuse us for a moment, David. And please, make yourself at home.”

  He closed the door behind us and hissed, “Have you lost your mind? What the hell is David doing here when Wendell and Danny Datello are presumably hiding somewhere in the house?”

  “I was ten seconds from kicking him out –”

  “And you don’t think that’ll raise a read flag or two?”

  Speaking of things rising, Johnny’s brow stretched for the rafters.

  “It’s not like I knew he was coming here, for God’s sake! Did you know?”

  Johnny cringed.

  “Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me he was headed back to Darkwater Bay?”

  “It must’ve slipped my mind with all the other surprises cropping up.”

  “You deal with him. Get him out of here. Take him to OSI. Get him set up in a hotel closer to headquarters, send him back to Montgomery, I really don’t care. I don’t want him here, Johnny.”

  “Helen, we can’t act like anything has changed. He’ll be suspicious, not that he isn’t already. How much worse was the conversation I interrupted than the little bit I heard?”

  “Danny’s right. He’s been lying to me all along. Did he ever tell you that he’s the one communicating with Franchetta, the one who spoon-fed him the information about Rick’s suicide? Jesus, Johnny. Do you have any idea what that means?”

  His expression grew very grim.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. My fingers dug into my temples. “If he told Franchetta what the story should be, the odds are pretty good that Franchetta told him what actually happened.”

  “You weren’t arrested, Helen. Let’s not assume anything.”

  “No, but Joel Soule was lurking around Darkwater Bay while we were frantically searching for the Datello baby. Why was that, Johnny? What was the FBI doing here? It wasn’t like Preston didn’t show up eventually. They could’ve been helping us find that baby, but instead, they were in the shadows doing God only knows what. And then they swept in and took Danny into protective custody and faked his death. I understand why they’d do that, but it doesn’t explain their presence in the first place.”

  “Do you think they’ve still been investigating you?”

  “Or watching,” I said bitterly. “I feel like I’ve been under more than my fair share of microscopes lately.”

  “Well, you can’t alienate David all of a sudden. It’ll make all of them more suspicious than ever.”

  “He can’t be here, Johnny! We asked Datello to hide under our roof. You wanted him here for easy access, remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “Then you deal with David. Get him out of here. I don’t care if you have to tell him it’s crazy pregnancy hormones, but make him go away.”

  “All right. I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise to keep him out of here indefinitely. We’ll have to consider an alternate plan for Datello and your father.”

  I thrust my leg out. “Get rid of this anklet. I need to think, and it occurs to me that I do that best in the whirlpool.”

  Johnny grinned. “You do seem a little pregnancy-crazy right now. It’s probably the best explanation I can offer David.” He unsnapped the device and dropped it on the desk. “Promise to put it back on if you plan to leave?”

  I nodded. “Just get rid of David quickly. I’ll get rid of Dad.”

  “Get a DNA sample first,” he said. “Crevan and I picked up Melissa Sherman’s lunch tray before I came back here.”

  My fingers dug into Johnny’s forearm. “You heard from Devlin?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Seems that Henderson and his wife had a kid named Melissa almost forty years ago that they raised in Poughkeepsie. I think we’ve probably found Wendell’s long-lost daughter. Devlin said nobody recalled Suzy Henderson actually being pregnant, you see. But suddenly, they had a baby.”

>   “She was too old to give birth thirty-nine years ago. My grandmother was almost sixty when I was born, Johnny.”

  He pulled a DNA kit out of his pocket and thrust the small swab packet into my hand. “Compliments of Maya. She asked me to give you a message.”

  “If it involves calling me princess, you’d better assign a protective detail to her.”

  Johnny chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose. “In that case, she simply wants you to call her ASAP.”

  Chapter 20

  Dad was reluctant to let me swab his cheek. In the end, he consented, but only after I promised him that no matter what the results were, it mattered less to me than it did to him. Datello was conspicuously silent throughout the minor skirmish.

  David was whisked away to OSI when Johnny told him about our suspicions of Jerry Lowe. His paranoia seemed to be assuaged when I burst into tears during an apology for not being myself and secluded myself in the bathroom. I eavesdropped at the door and heard Johnny explain that he talked me into a long soak in a bubble bath, because it always seemed to improve my mood.

  I smiled. Not because Johnny convinced David to leave, but because he took the anklet off and I was, at least for the time being, free without him asking questions I didn’t want to answer.

  The sun dipped deeply into the ocean to the west, hidden by the cliff atop which my house sat when Danny and I sat down for our first conversation without any witnesses. Palpitations fluttered in my chest. In many ways, I think I’d been anticipating this little chat for a very long time, ever since I learned that Rick was his cousin.

  He was nervous. Kept fidgeting with his right pinky, the one where he used to wear a gaudy ring. That’s the thing about hiding one’s identity. Gotta leave all identifying trappings behind.

  “This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it, Helen?”

  “Indeed it has.”

  “What’re we really going to do about this mess, now that our consciences are absent?”

  I laughed. At least we were on the same page. “Lyle Henderson has been ministering to Jerry Lowe over at Dunhaven. Johnny told me before he herded Levine back out to OSI’s headquarters. Do you want to kill my husband, Danny?” I asked abruptly.

 

‹ Prev