Sins of the Father (30 page)

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?”

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.”