“What do you mean?”
“There was a fire at that church. One of the newspapers ran a picture of the bystanders to that fire. I was one of them. That's how my daughter found me. She fixed me up, took care of me. Got me back working and got me this place.”
Thinking that she might also offer some insight into what happened back then, she asked, “Where is your daughter now?”
“She died in the car accident that took my legs.”
For a moment, Dana said nothing. She could understand this man's rage that his life had offered him little but sorrow. Again, she was tempted to leave him to it, but she wasn't going to walk out without getting what she came for.
“I think I've heard about that fire,” Dana said. “That priest Father Malone was killed.”
Teddy nodded. “He was a good man. He didn't deserve to die like that.”
“How did the fire start?”
Teddy shook his head. “I don't know,” Teddy said, but she didn't believe him.
“You don't know or you don't remember?”
“I remember fine. I remember those old buildings catching fire and burning and standing outside watching the whole place turn to ashes and charred wood.” Tears stood in his eyes, waiting to fall. He wiped his sleeve across his nose and mouth. “I remember.”
Yet she knew that he held something back from her, maybe his own involvement, maybe something else. She didn't know what. She tried the only tactic that seemed viable to her then. “Did you set the fire, Teddy? Maybe you fell asleep with a bottle? You were smoking?”
He shook his head violently. “No. I didn't have nothing to do with that.” He turned to the window and looked out. When he turned back, there was accusation in his eyes. “I should have known it. They sent you in here, didn't they? Damn car parked outside my house all day. I should have known they were up to no good.”
Dana sighed. She'd come so close and blown it. She tried to think of some way to salvage the situation. Maybe honesty was her only option. “Yes, they sent me in here. They think you know why someone would want to murder Amanda Pierce, something you told her.”
“So what if I did. She's dead now. Ain't nothing I can say going to bring her back.”
“No, but you can help the police find her killer.”
“I don't give one damn about the police.”
His hands worried something at his waist. Something metal flashed at her in the rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds. For a moment, she feared it was a gun until she caught sight of what it was. The cross at the end of a strand of black rosary beads. Thanks to Tim, Catholic guilt was something she understood.
“Then help me. As long as her murderer is out there, I'm in danger. I was the last person to see her alive and someone wants to kill me for that. How much longer do you have on this earth, Mr. Randall? Can you go to your maker with another death on your conscience?” She paused to let her words sink in. “Tell me what you saw that night.”
His shoulders slumped and shook. “I saw them that night, those three boys. Three of the ones Father tried to help. They come strutting up to the rectory in the dead of night. I was across the street, sitting on a bus stop bench they used to have back then. I knew they were up to no good, but Father let them in anyway. A few minutes later, they came tearing out of there like the devil himself was after them. The next thing I knew I smelled smoke. Those old buildings went up like two logs on a fire.”
“Why didn't you tell anyone what you saw?”
Tears streamed down Teddy's face. “I was drunk, you understand. Too drunk to get up and help him. Too drunk for anyone to believe me. I didn't tell the cops but I told one of the firemen. That's when one of those photographers got my picture. He told me to sober up and get out of his way. When the cops came by, I told them I made it up.”
“Who were those boys? Where are they now?”
“I don't know. Two of them moved out of the neighborhood right away, Randy Parker and Miguel Colon. The other moved, too, but I know where you can find him. He became a cop. His name is Thomas Moretti.”
Eighteen
Jonathan shared a quick look with Mari, hearing Randall's last words. “I'm getting her out of there. Get on the phone to Shea and find out where Moretti is.” He launched himself out of the back of the van and jogged up to the building. The driver's side door of the unmarked car opened, but he waved its occupant back. Dana wasn't in any danger. At least not from Randall.
He walked up to the door, nodding to the two officers in a way that signaled everything was all right. He knocked on the door. “Mr. Randall, open up. It's Detective Stone.”
But it was Dana that answered a few moments later. Her eyes were rimmed in red and her lower lip trembled. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but it was clear that she wasn't. Both Randall's tale of woe and the discovery that Moretti was involved in this mess must have gotten to her. He pulled her into his arms and held her, absorbing the tiny tremors that racked her body.
She laid her cheek against his chest. “My God, Jon. What did I fall into?”
He felt the stares of the two officers on him. He nodded toward the back of the apartment. The two men brushed past him to see to Randall.
“I don't know, baby,” he said. But he damn sure intended to find out. He hadn't told her this, and didn't intend to, but Mari had found out one more pertinent bit of information regarding Morettiâhe was supposed to have been on duty the morning Pierce disappeared but he came in late, at least an hour after Dana saw her getting into that car. He'd disappeared later in the day, too, and no one had been able to reach him.
He squeezed her waist. “Let's get out of here.” She nodded and allowed him to lead her from the building with an arm around her waist.
Once they were back in the van, she asked, “What happens now?”
“We get you to somewhere safe and we find Moretti.” He glanced at Mari who shook her head. Shea didn't know where he was either.
Damn.
That didn't completely surprise Jonathan, but it complicated things. He wasn't looking forward to hunting down another cop, if that's what it came to, not even Moretti.
“What about Teddy?”
“We'll be watching him, too.” Although Moretti didn't seem interested in him before, but that might have changed.
“He probably shouldn't be left alone.”
“You're probably right.” After his revelations today, finding himself in police custody if only for his own protection wouldn't sit well with Randall.
The car that had been sitting in front of Randall's place pulled around the corner and stopped across from them. “Come on,” he said to Dana. He helped her out of the van and into the car. He exchanged a look with the driver, who nodded. Everything was in place. Jonathan nodded back. “Let's go.”
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Dana stared out the window as the car traveled north on the Bruckner, headed toward the New England Thruway. She had no idea where they were headed and didn't really care. With all the unspoken words and silent communication passing between the men in the car, she understood that they were taking her somewhere else to do some more hiding. For the first time she didn't mind. It was one thing when she thought whoever was after her was some unknown assailant with no luck and no means of finding her. It was another to know that this man was a cop; someone trained to kill if he needed to.
She felt Jonathan's fingers squeeze hers. She looked up at him, trying to force a benign expression on her face. He didn't need to see her fear, not just for herself, but for him. Or at least, he didn't need a visual reminder of it, there plain on her face.
He squeezed her hand again, offering her an encouraging smile. “It will be all right, sweetheart,” he whispered.
She nodded, noting the irony of their situationâeach of them putting on a brave face for the other. She wondered if inside, he was as terrified as she was.
After a while they pulled into the parking lot of a squat brick building and parked at the end of it, facing the last door in the complex. She recognized this place. She'd seen it countless times driving on the highway. If anyone had told her she'd spend a moment inside this place, she'd have told them they were nuts.
The driver cut the engine and he and the front passenger got out. They went up to the door, painted an electric shade of blue, and went inside, leaving the door open.
She turned to Jonathan. “This is the safe place you're going to put me? Whose idea was this?”
“Mine. The only way to get in here is through the window, through the bottleneck we just went through to get into the parking lot and through that door. There will be two plainclothes officers outside at all times.”
One of the officers came back to the open door and nodded. Dana guessed that meant everything was all right. Jonathan got out of the car and came around to her side to open the door. She took the hand he extended toward her and got out. Once inside the room, she looked around. Definitely not the Ritz Carlton. Not even the Holiday Inn.
The two other officers left the room, closing the door behind them. She wondered what had prompted that. Probably some more silent cop communication she wasn't privy to.
She turned her head to look at Jonathan who stood beside her. “Is this where you usually put up folks you're trying to protect?”
He shook his head. “No.”
So, it was chosen because it was a place Moretti wouldn't instantly look for her. “That's a relief. I wouldn't want to have my tax dollars going to pay for places like this.”
“They're not. You pay taxes in Mount Vernon. Besides, what do you have against this place?” He looked around, appearing to take in the furnishings, which consisted only of a solitary chair, a bed, a dresser and a single night table beside the bed. “It's charming.”
Hands on hips she said, “For one thing, it's a sex motel. You know, the type folks rent by the hour to cheat on their spouses. I'm surprised there's not a mirror on the ceiling.”
“There was. I had them take it down.”
Despite herself, she laughed. She knew what he was trying to do: leaven her anxiety with a little humor. She couldn't fault him completely, since it was working. “You're not staying with me, are you?”
“No. As I said, there will be two officers outside at all times. I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll bring your stuff from my apartment when I come back. Is there anything else you want me to bring you?”
“How about a bottle of Lysol and a can of Raid?”
“I'll see what I can do.” He took her hand and pulled her closer. “Listen, seriously. Don't open that door for anyone who doesn't show you a badge through the peephole and slip his I.D. under the door.”
She nodded. She'd already been introduced to the two officers outside and remembered their names.
“Put the chain on the door and the chair underneath the doorknob after I'm gone. Stay away from the window.”
“I know, Jon.” She sighed. He'd given her the same instructions before he'd left her at his apartment that first day. But this time she sensed in him a real reluctance to go. She didn't want him to leave either, but she knew her best chance of survival was for someone to find Moretti and lock him up before he found her. “If you have to go, go. I'll be all right.”
He pressed his lips to hers briefly. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”
Dana watched him walk from the room, purposefulness in his stride. With any luck, the next time she saw him, he'd still be whole and safe and this whole business would be behind them. But she wasn't holding her breath. The man out there had less to lose than he had before and he obviously had it in for Jonathan. How far would Moretti go to save himself and exact retribution? That's the question that terrified her the most.
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The meeting in Shea's office was brief and to the point. “Where do we stand with this Moretti thing?” Shea asked. “Any proof, other than the word of an old rummy that he knew the priest?”
Jonathan said, “None. He didn't consider Pee Wee's conjecture proof. Did he show up this morning?”
“He came in after you left and disappeared.”
Probably long enough to find out that they were talking to Randall that morning. He had to figure they'd get something out of the old man one way or another. At the very least, he'd have to answer for not mentioning he knew Malone. At worst, he was the one responsible for Pierce's death. For the fact that Moretti was still out operating without closer scrutiny, Jonathan blamed himself. If he'd told Shea about Pee Wee's intimation that a cop was involved, they would have played it differently, made sure no one outside the operation knew what was going on. Actually, Jonathan had suggested that, but Shea had arranged things the way he wanted them anyway. Now, Moretti was on the loose God only knew where. Jonathan only hoped the folks at IAB had decided to follow him that day. Damn!
Martinez poked his head in the door. “The unit that went out to Moretti's place says it looks like he cleared out.”
“Damnit to hell,” Shea said.
Jonathan ground his teeth together. If Moretti wanted to implicate himself as more than an innocent party in this he'd done a damn good job.
“We'll take it from here, then, folks.” Jonathan's gaze slid to the man who'd spoken, a man he recognized as being fairly high up in the rat squad food chain, but not the top. “If Moretti needs to be found, we'll find him.”
If ?
Jonathan wanted to say. It should be obvious to everyone in this room that Moretti had every intention of disappearing into the wind. But he held his tongue and bided his time. One thing he'd learned over the years was that if you didn't ask permission to do something no one could refuse you. There might be hell to pay later, but more often than not it was worth it.
“If there's anything we need from you, we'll let you know,” the suit said, before walking from the room with an air of his own importance.
After he was gone, Shea turned to Martinez, who still stood in the doorway. “You and Jerry get busy working on those other names. For all we know Moretti isn't in this alone. I'm sure the rest of you have something to do.”
Shea glanced directly at him when he said that. Sure, he had plenty to do, but it surprised him that Shea seemed to be giving him the okay to do it.
As they left the office, Mari whispered. “Am I mistaken, or did the boss just grow a set of balls in there?”
She didn't need an answer to that, so he didn't give her one. “Let's get out of here.”
Dana had never been one to pace the floor much, but these last couple of weeks had changed that. She'd turned on the TV set, just to have some noise in the room that didn't come from the boisterous couple copulating next door. Still she couldn't seem to sit in one place for long without getting up and worrying the carpet. Thank God she'd had sense enough that morning to wear her sneakers instead of a pair of sandals. That way her feet were protected from whatever critters might be hiding in that rug.
A sudden knock on the door made her jump and her heartbeat triple. “Ms. Molloy. It's Officer Cohen.”
“Y-yes,” she called back in as calm a voice as she could muster.
“Are you hungry? We've got some cheeseburgers.”
Something as mundane as putting some food in her stomach hadn't occurred to her. She wondered where they'd magicked up this food from since she hadn't heard the car either leave or come back. But she understood the necessity of keeping her belly full and her wits about her.
“Okay. Show me your badge at the peephole and your ID under the door.”
She thought she detected a note of humor in the officer's voice as he said, “Just a moment, ma'am.”
She moved the chair out of the way so that she could look through the peephole. She decided there must be some defect in the glass, since she couldn't make out any of the details on the badge Cohen showed her, but when he removed it, she saw the car out front clearly.