by LS Sygnet
“You’re angry, upset. Believe me, I understand this better than you could possibly realize. Do you think it was any different for me when I realized that my father wasn’t the man I thought he was?”
“Right,” Crevan drawled. “Your father was exactly who you thought. He was a good man who did the right thing when the system failed. My dad? Well, he’s the one that counted on those failures, exploited the loopholes so that he could make a profit off the misery of others.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Crevan saw Datello grip Helen’s arm. He whispered something to her, too low to be heard by any but the intended ear.
“More secrets?”
“We’re worried, Crevan. Can you blame us? Five minutes ago, you couldn’t believe I’d suggest that Aidan was the missing mastermind we’ve been looking for all this time. Now you’re acting like a madman who can’t beat himself hard enough because he might be guilty.”
“You don’t doubt it. And the more I think about it, neither do I. God, all this time, I rejoiced when he wanted to talk about my job. And the whole time, he was just pumping me for information, Helen, information about you.”
She stared ahead through the windshield. Crevan couldn’t blame her for the anger, the deep sense of betrayal she had to feel because he’d unwittingly helped the very man who sold her – not once, but twice.
“I’m sorry, Helen,” Crevan’s entire being radiated remorse, guilt, regret. Self-recrimination made him doubt his worth. “If you can’t forgive me, I don’t blame you. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Stop it. This isn’t your fault any more than it’s mine that my father did help Marie rob armored cars. If anyone is unforgivable in this, you know who that person is. You’re not like Aidan, Crevan. You are nothing like him.”
Silence descended, hard and heavy, suffocating.
“Helen, you’re not like him either,” Danny said. “What the hell is the matter with both of you? Can’t you see you’re nothing like him at all?”
“Aren’t I, Danny? How can you of all people say that, knowing what really happened to Rick. I’m just like he is. The debate is solved. It’s definitely nature. Nurture tried to curb my urges, but it just wasn’t quite enough.”
Authority bled into Datello’s voice. Crevan cringed hearing it. True enough, he wasn’t nearly as tough as his little sister. What had she said? All heart, no backbone.
“Both of you, knock it off. We’ve got the direction now. We know where the answers lie. The next step is to hear the confession. Or are you going to let this morbid pity party keep you from doing what the both of you know needs to happen to this bastard?”
Crevan looked at Helen, felt a little bit of her steel infuse his spine. He knew in his bones what she would do when they confronted Aidan. And by God, he’d not let her carry that burden. Not this time.
Chapter 41
It came as no great surprise to me when Crevan parked behind the enormous home in Bay View. I’d been here once before, back in January, when inexplicably, I’d felt such bone deep animosity toward Aidan Conall, I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
Oh sure, I tried to, went so far as to convince myself that I hated him for his xenophobic views of society, and on top of that, he made Crevan feel like shit for being less than the man Aidan thought he should be.
Temptation tickled deep into the neurons of who-Helen-really-is. The gun tucked into the back of black denim burned through flesh. I itched to pull it out and drill a hole in the left chest of Aidan Conall. That place where a heart should reside.
But no, that would be kind, and as much as Crevan’s pain affected me, the answer wasn’t another murder. If I’d learned anything in the last year, it was that compounding one wrong with another only created more problems. Yes, remorse finally invaded my heart.
“Helen,” Danny repeated his earlier message, “we shouldn’t be here. This is a very bad idea. Please. Let’s get Orion to just arrest him.”
“Stop whispering to her, Datello,” Crevan snarled.
“He thinks we should call Johnny, Crevan. I’m not sure that’s such a bad idea at this point.”
“We still don’t have evidence, not that either one of us needs it. We know, Helen. We know. So let’s end this.”
“Where are we?” Danny asked with more than a quiver of hesitation in his voice.
“What, you were never invited to the inner sanctum?” Crevan sneered. “Oh of course not. What was I thinking? He couldn’t possibly let the patsy in through the front door. It would taint him by association. He left that to his lesser associates, men like Eugene Sherman, or should I say, Gill Vorre?”
Datello’s voice dipped low and murmured to me yet again, “Who the hell is Gill Vorre?”
“It’s the real name of the man who stole Eugene Sherman’s identity,” I said. “Oh, hell. It’s a long story. If I promise to tell you everything later, will you just stop quizzing me about it now?”
“We should not be here. None of us has the authority to do anything here. And before you argue with me, detective, do you have a warrant to enter your father’s home?”
“Whatever for? He’s my father. I don’t need a warrant to go inside, not when I have a key.”
“What exactly do we plan to do when we get in there, Crevan? You might be his son –”
“And you his daughter,” he interrupted tersely.
“Whatever, but we don’t have the right to search for evidence against him,” I said. “Maybe Danny is right. Just let me call Johnny and tell him what we saw, what we suspect. He can get a warrant. We can get the evidence against Aidan. He’ll be arrested, stand trial, go to prison for the rest of his life.”
“No.” Crevan shoved the door of the old truck open and was halfway to the house before Danny and I were able to scramble after him.
“Helen, this is insane. He’s totally snapped!”
“Don’t you think I see that?” I hissed. “But he is my brother, and Johnny’s best friend to boot. I can’t just abandon him because I don’t want to have his back. Besides, if we leave him now, something really awful will happen.”
“Like patricide?”
I glared. “Did you forget what I told you earlier? Crevan doesn’t have the heart to kill anyone, even if his life depended on it. Aidan on the other hand,” bitterness seeped into my tone, “he has no heart. He’d kill us all and not bat an eye. After all, we’re the only ones who have figured out he’s really behind all of this.”
We’d reached the back door of the massive home. Crevan already had disappeared inside.
“Danny, I think you should go back to the truck. Take my phone. Call Johnny. Tell him what’s going on. Then get out of here as fast as you can. It’s not safe for all of us to be here together. Aidan doesn’t know you’re still alive. You’ve made yourself the star witness in two different prosecutions now.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” he said frantically. “How could I live with myself if I do and something worse –?”
“Do I have to remind you that you didn’t even know how to use a gun when Seleeby showed up in my house this morning? Go now. Your wife and daughter need you alive. And I need Johnny here. Do this for me. Call him. Tell him everything. You can’t be here, Danny. If you are when Johnny shows up, Levine will be with him, and you’ll be right back under the thumb of the FBI again.”
“I don’t care about that! I don’t want you to die.”
I grabbed his shoulders and hugged him hard. “I’m sorry I ever misjudged you, Danny Datello. But your wife would never forgive me if I failed to save your life a second time. Please go. Please!”
“Promise me you’ll be careful, Helen.”
I nodded and shoved him back toward the yard.
He disappeared into the shadows, while I walked into the jaws of the darkest nightmare I’d ever faced in my life. Again, temptation gnawed at my gut. It would be so easy to see this end swiftly. No risk of a failure of the justice system.
Datello dro
ve only half a block before he pulled the phone out and hit send on the key pad. Helen had entered the right number at some point on the drive from Downey back to Bay View. Or maybe she’d been debating whether or not to call her husband all along.
It barely rang once.
“Helen?”
“It’s Danny Datello. Helen told me to call you.”
“Where is she?” Orion asked.
“Aidan Conall’s house.”
“And she told you to call me?” disbelief dripped from every word.
“It’s Detective Conall, commander. He knows his father is behind this human trafficking thing, and I think he’s gone a little insane. Helen wouldn’t leave him.”
“Is Aidan Conall at the house now?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know how he could’ve gotten there before us,” Danny said. “He was at Bay County Correctional. Helen’s had us camped out there all day. She was sure that whoever Henderson’s partner was, he’d show up to see Melissa Sherman sooner or later. Sure enough, we watched him go into the jail about half an hour ago.”
“Shit. Is Helen armed?”
“They both are,” Danny said. “She told me to tell you that she needs you. I think she would’ve called you right away, but the detective… he’s… I’ve never seen anybody so messed up in my life.”
“Hang on a second.”
Datello listened to the muffled sounds of Orion’s voice for a moment before it sounded like a door slammed.
“Are you still there, Danny?”
“Yes.”
“I just sent Agent Levine over to Bay County Correctional Facility. Did Helen think that Aidan was going to kill Melissa Sherman?”
“I have no idea. To be honest, the conversation never got to that point. Once Detective Conall saw his father show up, he pretty much lost it. Why don’t you sound surprised by any of this, commander?”
“Because Levine and I figured it out ourselves about a minute before you called.”
Danny slumped against the seat of the old truck. “Thank God. You’ve got to know that Helen’s worried about not having proper evidence. I think it’s pretty obvious, but –”
“Juries don’t see it that way,” Johnny said grimly. “Can you give her a message?”
“She made me leave.”
“Shit,” Johnny said. “Don’t stray too far. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Where are you exactly, Datello?”
“I’m at the end of the alley that leads to the back of Conall’s house, Pritchard side of the block.”
“I’m fifteen minutes away, tops. Stay put.”
The call clicked off before he could argue or tell Johnny that Helen absolutely didn’t want him near what was about to happen. Still, leaving her alone with Detective Conall acting like a head case was even more disturbing than the idea of being caught where he wasn’t supposed to be.
Johnny used lights and sirens as he sped away from Beach Cliffs toward where Aidan Conall ruled his little empire. He silently prayed that Helen wouldn’t do anything stupid – like kill Aidan so Crevan wouldn’t do it.
He didn’t doubt a single word out of Danny Datello’s mouth. Crevan would be mental over this, after a lifetime of never being quite good enough, morally or as a man, for his father, to learn this kind of secret would be beyond devastating.
And Helen – she wouldn’t bat an eye. Conall threatened her life, her freedom, the safety of their children. Those would be more than grounds to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. His earlier debate over betrayal or how much he could share with David Levine seemed silly, trivial even.
When the chips were down, Johnny knew in his heart that he’d choose his wife, no matter what. Doubts aside, she wanted him at her back, made Datello leave a dangerous situation that was no doubt on the verge of implosion, and made him call Johnny.
“Me,” he said, feeling a perverse surge of happiness in light of how dire the situation had quickly become. “She needs me.”
The lies they both told, his propensity for being domineering, hers for secrecy, burned away in the bright light of reality. They needed each other, and when it all culminated to do or die, neither one of them could deny the truth.
How she’d put it together, why she’d kept her suspicions secret, none of that mattered so much to Johnny right now. Maybe it would later, or more likely, he’d take one look at Crevan and see that Helen had no choice but to protect her family – all of them. Johnny, their unborn children, Wendell, and yes, even her brother. Especially her brother.
The past eleven months flickered rapidly on the backs of his eyelids. Even before Helen learned her real identity, there’d always been this strange vibe between her and Crevan. She showed a sensitivity toward him that no one else ever felt. It was protective, mothering even. And the normal jealousy such concern for another man would’ve evoked only sparked once – when Johnny couldn’t remember the things he’d lost at the hands of Mitch Southerby.
Finally, he saw Helen as something less than tough, than guarded and a vault of secrets buried under carefully constructed lies. Levine’s reminder that Helen wasn’t always this way made him determined to see her heal, to let go of that forced mistrust of everyone but Wendell.
In the black of night, Johnny promised aloud, “I’ll never let you down, Helen. Never again.”
He shut off the sirens and lights the moment he entered the Conall’s neighborhood. What if Aidan slipped out of the jail before David arrived? What if he was already back at the house?
Johnny almost bypassed the alley and went directly to the lone house at the end of a long, quiet street. No. He owed Datello more than that. The man trusted Helen. He called. He gave Johnny the message he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to receive. At the end of the alley, he found the truck sitting back, parked where someone’s trash normally waited for pick up.
He rolled down his window. “Get in.”
“Helen thinks I should head back to Beach Cliffs, commander. She’s afraid that if something happens to me, a whole lot of testimony will be lost.”
Johnny couldn’t help but grin. “Of course, she wouldn’t want Marcos off the hook because she dragged you somewhere you shouldn’t be. Go back. Nobody knows you’re here, Datello. Though, I’m starting to think it’s high time we gave your wife a little peace of mind.”
Something passed between them in that moment. Maybe it was an apology, or forgiveness. More likely, it was understanding, the knowledge that somehow, right now would always matter more than ancient history.
Datello nodded curtly. “Be careful, Orion. I’d hate to see Helen get hurt after everything she’s survived so far.”
On that subject, Johnny had never agreed with anyone more in his life.
Chapter 42
Crevan pressed one finger to his lips. His gun was drawn, a bullet chambered. The only other sound I heard was the soft snick of the safety’s release. I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a glare, the likes of which, I’d never imagined he’d issued in his life.
In that moment, I saw the mirror again. It was more a feeling that others had been the recipient of such a homicidal rage before, because I’d certainly never seen myself that way.
I knew his world just turned as red-black as mine had ever been the night I killed Rick Hamilton, the night I crushed the bones of Umberto Gutierrez’s nose into his brain and then snapped Andy Gillette’s neck.
Oddly, the knowledge that I finally knew who set it all into motion didn’t cause the return of my murderous insanity. I felt calm, a sense of peace I thought I’d experienced at other times in my life, but now realized was as foreign to me as my desire to see someone rot in prison.
Death would be too kind for Aidan Conall.
The little babies in my belly picked that moment to kick. Unconsciously my hand smoothed over the swell of my abdomen. The whispered touch bore a message. Shh. It’s all right. Mommy’s right here, and Daddy will be here very soon.
Johnny w
ould come. All of this would end. Crevan wouldn’t become what I am. I would become what my father always wanted me to be – not Aidan, but my real father Wendell.
A garage door rumbled on the other side of the house.
“Crevan, we can arrest him,” I said.
“With what evidence? No, Helen. No. We’re doing this my way. I’ll hear it from his lips, and then we end this.”
“If he confesses at gunpoint, that equates duress, and nothing he says will be admissible. Let’s just arrest him, take him in, get a search warrant, have David’s forensic accountants –”
“Shut up!” he hissed.
Footfalls clicked down the hallway. We hid inside what I presumed was Aidan’s study. The walls were lined with dark shelving and scores of books. At one side of the room was another black piece of furniture. It was too dark to be certain, but logic dictated that it must be Aidan’s desk.
Crevan would know better than I what room his father would find sanctuary within after a grueling day – doing what? Knocking off the last person that could testify to his crimes?
It would be difficult to murder someone in jail and simply walk out. The ensuing lockdown would detain any visitor. And Aidan was too well known to slip in and out unrecognized. Maybe he didn’t kill Sherman.
In the silence, all sound was magnified. I heard the brass fixture at the door rattle lightly, twist, a latch release. I held my breath.
The room burst into light.
Crevan lifted his gun and pointed it Aidan’s head.
“Hello, Father.”
Aidan startled and dropped the mail he carried in his left hand. Was that where I inherited the lefty trait? A shudder of revulsion rippled through me.
“Crevan, what the devil – put that gun…” Aidan’s eyes met mine, flickered with something quite unpleasant and not so different from hatred on steroids. “You. I might’ve known. What sort of lies have you told my son about me, Dr. Eriksson?”
