Sins of the Father (3 page)

“It’s more than a little bit.”

“We’ll get back to normal.” Had Johnny and I
ever known normal? Had I ever known it? “I know you’re real, that
I’m home, that I’m safe. And I thank God you found me, that our
baby is fine. But I still feel sort of…”

“Disconnected?”

My fingers ruffled through the back of
Johnny’s hair. “Yes. And whether I’ve said it or not, I do love
you, Johnny.”

His weight pressed me into the bed. “You’re
sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You love me… differently than you love
other people?”

For the first time in days, I felt a twinge
of something inside my chest. It wasn’t fear or rage or hatred. It
was the opposite of the void, the black hole of uncertainty. “I
love you like no one else I’ve ever known.”

Johnny’s body shifted, moved lower. His lips
began a gentle assault on my neck, the sweet spot that he owned.
“I’d really like to make love to my wife now,” he murmured. “Is it
too soon?”

To say no would make his concern grow
exponentially. Agreement would reveal my lie. I can’t pretend to
feel what isn’t there anymore. I bit down on the inside of my
cheeks hard enough to cause tears to spring to my eyes.

“Helen?” Johnny peered down at me. “I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I want you so much. It’s just…”

“Too soon?”

I nodded.

“I asked you this before.”

“He didn’t rape me, Johnny.”

“Did he touch you?”

The image flashed in front of me again. Was
it happening now? Reality slipped away from me. Andy Gillette’s
taunting sneer replaced Johnny’s stricken expression.

“I’ll kill you if you touch me,” I hissed.
“Do you hear me? You can chain me until the end of time, and I’ll
find a way to make you die!”

Fingers wrapped around my upper arms and
shook me hard.

“Helen!”

The murky rage receded.

“Johnny?”

“Jesus,” he said. “What did he do to
you?”

I rubbed my eyes. “Where am I?”

The end of the evening news broadcast
flickered on the television a few feet away from me. Johnny perched
on the edge of the sofa. Was I dreaming? Dreaming that I wasn’t
dreaming.

I bolted upright from the corner of the sofa
where I must’ve fallen asleep and clung to Johnny. “Hold me,” I
said.

“Honey, you’ve got to get more help for
this. I don’t know what to do.”

“Promise me Andy Gillette is really
dead.”

“I swear it,” he said. “Helen, Andy Gillette
can never hurt you again.”

With the dream still fresh in my mind, and
what I believed Johnny feared, I tightened my grip around his neck.
“I love you, Johnny.”

Air rushed out of his lungs. “I love you
too. We’ll get through this, honey. I promise.”

“Take me to bed, please. I need to put what
happened behind me.”

“Are you sure?”

I wasn’t. “I need to feel safe again. I need
you to hold me.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter 3

“The parade begins soon,” Johnny reminded
me. After a week of reclusive behavior and struggling to sort
reality from nightmares, indecision versus formulating a plan, I
realized that prolonging the inevitable would only raise
suspicions.

“Who’s coming again?”

“Chris, Crevan, Dev, Maya, a butt-load of
people from Central Division.”

Hmm. “No one from Downey?”

“Shelly said she would try to come by. Is
there someone specifically from Downey that you’d like to see?”

I snorted. “Not particularly. I figured it
would be the good Catholic thing to do though, pretending to be
pleased that I survived more or less intact.”

“Helen, if you’re ready to make peace with
Tony Briscoe, I’m sure he’d be delighted.”

“I guess I wouldn’t be offended if he showed
up.”

See, I have an ulterior motive. I’ve often
believed the men in this city are worse gossips than any woman ever
conceived of being. Tony Briscoe rates at the top of that heap in
my opinion. His history lessons in Darkwater Bay proved invaluable
to me. Burying the hatchet might be the first step I could take in
my covert little investigation. God knows, I need to figure out
where to begin asking some innocent questions. I can’t do it with
Johnny. He’s still pretty suspicious that I haven’t told him
everything.

Maybe, if he believes that I’m putting all
of the past into proper perspective, he’ll at least stop working
from home. I’ve barely been able to pee with a modicum of privacy
since I got out of the hospital.

He kissed my forehead. “I’ll give him a
call.”

“You don’t have to say I asked him to be
here.”

“Hadn’t planned on it. He wanted to come all
along, Doc. I told him I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea just
yet.”

He barely had the phone in his hand when the
alarm at the gate sounded. “I’ll get it. You call your pal.”

Within a minute, Maya was standing in the
foyer of the house hugging me like there was no tomorrow.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better. I’ve
been out of my mind with worry, Helen.”

She wasn’t the only one. “I’m really done
with the law enforcement thing this time. I don’t care what
happens, I’m staying out of it.”

Maya grinned. “I’ve heard that before. I’ll
believe it when I see it. Are you really feeling better? You still
look a little wan.”

Johnny’s eyes met mine. We still hadn’t told
anyone the rest of our news. The wedding was one thing. I had no
idea how to spit out the rest.

“She’s fine, Maya,” Johnny said.

I swallowed a lump that materialized in my
throat. “Actually, there is something else that none of you
know.”

His eyes widened. “Helen, are you sure you
want to tell everyone?”

I nodded. “We won’t be able to keep it a
secret forever.”

“What’s going on?”

“I should make you wait until everyone else
gets here so we don’t have to repeat the news over and over,” I
said.

Maya hooked her arm in mine and strolled
toward the living room. “You’ll do no such thing. I got to hear
about the wedding first. Whatever you have to say, you’re telling
me right this instant.”

Johnny grinned. “Remember the advice you
gave me about Helen’s nausea?”

“Oh! I was right?”

He nodded.

“Congratulations! When are you due? Oh my
gosh, everything’s all right, isn’t it? I mean, those bastards
didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “In fact, we’re both
fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” she
asked.

I shrugged. “What can I say? We were a
little distracted with work, Maya. I think Johnny and I were having
a hard enough time staying focused after we got married without
telling everyone that in a few months, we’re having a baby
too.”

The house quickly filled with people who
were instrumental in building my new life in Darkwater Bay. Devlin
ignored Johnny’s previous warning to keep his hands to himself. He
hugged me tightly, kissed both cheeks, and then begged for my
forgiveness.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dev. None of
what happened was your fault.”

“He was my partner for years, Helen, and I
had no idea.”

“Well, my father raised me, and I had no
idea he was a criminal either. I married a man who laundered money
for the mob. We don’t know what even those closest to us don’t want
us to know.”

Johnny was hovering nearby. He overheard my
remark and frowned. A moment later, he pried me out of Devlin’s
arms and shot him a look.

“We’re not starting this nonsense again, are
we?”

His arm tightened around my waist. “No, but
we’re not turning this into a morose event where we try to outdo
one another in the
who got the wool pulled over their eyes
harder
competition either. We’re here for two reasons – to
celebrate that my wife is home and safe, and so that you cretins
can see with your own eyes that she’s fine.”

My attention drifted away from the men
doting to one who hung back away from the rest of the group. I
watched, I thought covertly, ignoring the banter between Johnny and
Devlin over the cretin remark until Johnny dragged my focus back to
their conversation.

“Go talk to him, Helen.”

“Who?”

“Crevan,” Dev chuckled. “At least she still
zones out like she always has.”

My hand glided down the front of Johnny’s
shirt. “Would you mind terribly if we had a private conversation?
He looks upset.”

“Worried is more like it,” Johnny said.

Apparently, there was more than enough guilt
to go around.

I drifted across the room to my friend, a
man who might well be my twin brother. The longer I looked at him,
the more the idea appealed to me on some level. There were
certainly enough physical clues to support the theory.

“Hey,” I said. “Were you planning to at
least say hello?”

“I think I’ve got a little more than that to
say to you, Helen,” he stared at the keys on the grand piano in the
living room. “I should’ve grown a pair like Dad always wanted me
to, huh?”

“Crevan, it wasn’t your fault.”

He shrugged. “I have a thing for anagrams.
Always have. I knew those messages weren’t gibberish.”

I slipped my hand into his and gave a gentle
tug. “Come outside with me. God knows a sunny afternoon is a rare
treat in this city. Let’s go sit on the swing in the back yard and
have a talk.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Our eyes met. I felt like I was looking into
a mirror. Only Crevan’s eyes were filled with emotion, and mine,
well, they felt as dead as the rest of me.

“I was never angry with you, never blamed
you for what happened, Crevan. There’s nothing to forgive. Johnny
and I could’ve explained why I was acting like a maniac. He told me
that you were concerned because I’ve been a bit more erratic than
usual these days.”

Crevan opened the back door and held it for
me. I tugged him through behind me.

“There’s actually a good explanation,
Crevan. Beyond people thinking that I’m just insane.”

He chuckled. “I had a theory.”

“And you were right if you’re talking about
the morning sickness thing.”

His eyes brightened. “Really? That’s
fantastic, Helen! It is fantastic, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it at
first.” I sat on the bench swing in the back yard and patted the
slats beside me. “Of course I came to my senses and we’re
absolutely thrilled about this now.”

“You’ll be wonderful parents.”

“Johnny will be.” I toed the concrete under
the swing and set it into gentle motion. “I’m not so sure about my
abilities as a mother. I think about mine, you know? She wasn’t
such a shining example of human nurturing, let alone maternal
instinct.”

“You learned everything you need to know
from your father. I know you’re conflicted because he’s in prison,
but Helen, you’ve never doubted that he loves you.”

“No, I guess I haven’t.”

“Besides, I think people worry too much that
they’re going to automatically be what their parents are. Look at
me. Couldn’t be more opposite than mine.”

“I know that things are strained between you
and Aidan. But what about your mother?”

“
Wives, be submissive to your
husbands
.” He quoted probably the biggest bigot from the New
Testament.

“Paul hated women, Crevan. He’s hardly the
example that anyone should follow.”

“Tell that to my dad.”

“I’d be delighted. When can I see him
again?”

Crevan laughed softly. “Please tell me
you’re joking. You barely survived your first meeting with my
father.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I love you very
much, and I can’t stand to see you moping around because your
father is a douchebag. By the way, you still haven’t answered my
question.”

“My mother.”

“Yes. Do I even know her name?”

“Kathleen.”

“So she agrees with Aidan that your alleged
crime is unforgivable?”

Crevan shrugged.

“Tell me that you’ve talked to her,
honey.”

“How could I do that? Dad won’t let me come
to the house. He told me that I’m basically dead to them now.”

“Do you believe that Kathleen feels that way
too, or is it just her being the good Christian subservient
wife?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Crevan sighed
and brushed one hand through his hair. “Alex thinks I should pick
up the phone and call her. He says that I’ll never have a
relationship with either one of them if I don’t give them time to
accept the truth or reach out and remind them that I’m still here
and that I haven’t ever stopped loving them.”

“He sounds like a good guy.”

“Alex is…” Crevan’s eyes stared off toward
the Pacific, distant and dreamy. “He’s wonderful, Helen. Sometimes,
I’m so happy when we’re together, feel such a bone-deep peace, I
feel guilty.”

“What for? You’ve got a very overdeveloped
sense of guilt, my friend. I killed two men, with complete intent a
little over two weeks ago, and I don’t feel a speck of remorse.
Well, other than the fact that I’m a little pissed that they died
so fast.”

Crevan laughed softly and shook his head.
“Only you, Helen.”

“You think I
should
feel guilty?”

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and
squeezed gently. “Not even a little bit. It was clearly a case of
self defense. Not only that, they were guilty as hell. You saved
the state a whole lot of money. Fewer trials.”

“I’d like to meet your mother,” I said,
tilting my head against his shoulder. “I’ve got this theory, you
see. Even with all our parent’s faults, they still managed to
procreate children who didn’t turn out so terrible in spite of our
gene pool. Somewhere, buried underneath all that muck, there’s got
to be a redeeming quality or two.”