Forgotten Place (21 page)

"Hey."  I approached with
caution.  The propensity for lying had Orion's guard up but
good, and I had no one to blame but myself.

"You're up early."  He stole a single
peek and did a quick double-take.  "Uh-oh.  What's
wrong?  You look exhausted again."

"We need to talk, Johnny."  Sudden
reversals make me wary without cause.  I could only imagine
how many red flags would fly in his mind when I spit out my
suggestion.

"All right.  Is this conversation going
to negatively impact your ability to chew, swallow or digest
blueberry pancakes?"

My stomach rumbled loudly, amplified when I
opened my mouth to reply.

He grinned.  "Good.  Talk away,
Doc."

I perched on the stool and waited for a
too-tall stack to slide in my direction.  "That's a lot of
pancakes."

"Do the best you can.  What's on your
mind?"  He offered pancake syrup.

"I'm ashamed somewhat to preface what I'm
about to say this way, but Johnny, this is not a lie.  You
have every reason to suspect me of being manipulative and –"

"Spit it out, Doc.  I'll reserve
judgment for after I hear it."

Breathe, Helen.  Say
the words.  Accept it when he shoots you
down.
  "I want my freedom back –
conditionally."

His muscles bulged against the t-shirt he
wore when he crossed his arms.  "And the conditions?"

"I'm inviting you to stay, for essentially
everything to continue as it has since Monday night with the
exception to access to the telephone, my car and the locks on the
doors."

His jaw ticked.  "Can I ask what
brought about this change of heart?"

"It has occurred to me, after our
conversation last night, that the effort you're making to keep me
healthy or whatever, might slow down this investigation."

"And that's the only reason you propose this
truce of sorts?"

Not the only reason, but close enough. 
I nodded. 

"I'm flexible on the phones and the
doors."

"But not my car?"

"I promise you, making sure you're recovery
improves toward a positive outcome isn't hindering a damn thing,
Helen.  If I let you have free rein of the world, I'm afraid
you'd burn off the food faster than I can cook it.  Don't
forget how well I know you."

"All right, then let me make another
suggestion in lieu of getting custody of the Expedition.  I'd
even be willing to forego the unlocked doors in exchange."

"Let's hear it."  He leaned against the
counter.

"You don't leave me locked up in here alone
anymore.  If you go somewhere, I go with you."

Johnny's lips twitched.  "And you could
live with my company twenty-four-seven?"

It was the time he was out of my presence
that was precisely the cause for concern.  Somebody found a
way to use Johnny without him realizing it, and I was determined to
make sure that he didn't suffer any consequences for his
ignorance.  "This isn't an indefinite arrangement, Orion, so
yes.  Until I get a little stronger, put on a couple more
pounds, I can live with it.  My apologies in advance if this
cramps your style, socially speaking of course."

He chuckled softly.  "Oh Helen, you're
not cramping my social life.  Not even a little bit. 
Terms accepted.  God, how I've missed negotiating with
you."

The fond gaze didn't set wings flapping in
my belly.  Instead, it communicated rather clearly that
Johnny's patience wasn't boundless, that the condition of never
being able to walk away after a certain point in our personal
relationship didn't mean what I thought it had at the time.  I
was safely inside the box of friendship forever, and I didn't
really know how I felt about it.

Maybe disappointed.

I shrugged off the confusing feelings and
reminded myself that none of this was permanent anyway. 
Catching Datello had to be priority one.  When that was over,
there would be no reason to stay in Darkwater.  I'd be free to
leave, and in doing so, remove Johnny from the focus of he whom I
wished didn't know he existed.

Buttery confection melted on my
tongue.  The man knew how to cook, despite his statements to
the contrary.  "Did you guys find anything interesting in
Ireland's notes?"

"He favored shorthand that makes no sense to
me.  Some sort of legal mumbo-jumbo," Johnny said.  "Ned
thought he'd go blind if he had to read another page of it, so he
crawled off to one of your guest rooms around three.  Hope you
don't mind."

"Of course not.  The house is big
enough for more than you and Ned camping out."

Johnny slid onto one of the stools beside me
and dug into breakfast.  "So after therapy this morning, I
thought maybe you'd like to help go through some of the notes
Ireland left.  If there's a clue in there to what made him
look at Datello, I'm not seeing it.  I found a couple of
newspaper clippings about the family, but nothing more."

"I'd like to talk to Maya about the
exhumation first.  And follow up with David about our
conversation yesterday afternoon."

"Don't worry about him," Johnny said. 
"I can't imagine how the bureau could possibly relate what happened
to you in October to Marcos' activities selling fertilizer to
nut-jobs."

At my pause, he frowned. 

"Don't do that.  I'm not holding
anything back that you don't already know," I said.  "I will
tell you that the FBI has to have a reason beyond morbid curiosity
that a homegrown terrorist shot me while Marcos had a building
blown to kingdom come.  Their interest isn't motivated by
concern for my personal safety either.  I'm sure plenty of
agents who agreed with Seleeby would've considered it Karma at work
if I had died."

"Helen, you don't seriously think Marcos was
involved in Jackson's scheme to poison the third world, do
you?"

"Honestly, no.  I've been wracking my
brain trying to figure out why the bureau would reach that
conclusion.  The only possible link I could make between the
two events happens to be that Datello is the nephew and lives in
the city where Jackson based his operation.  Although Kim
Jackson intimated to me that this wasn't the only lab he had in
existence."

"We found zero evidence of that, Doc. 
I'm not sure if you've talked to Forsythe about any of that or
not."

"I haven't talked to anybody about a whole
lot since I came home from the hospital.  You already know
that."

"They finally cracked Denton's
computer.  The search of Kim Jackson's home turned up more
evidence that while he was a brilliant meth manufacturer, capable
of genetically engineering lethal plants and an extreme bigot, he
didn't have an organization capable of the massive scale he
suggested when you confronted him."

"Then it could've been coincidental. 
Either that or the FBI is watching what I'm doing because they
understand why Darkwater Bay appealed to me in the first
place."

Johnny laid down his fork and swiveled
toward me.  "You wanted Datello's hide, didn't you?"

"He ruined my life, Johnny.  I had to
try."

"I thought you said they didn't know about
your ex-husband's other connection to Datello."

"As far as I know, they don't.  At
minimum, they don't realize I know about it.  It wasn't
uncovered when I was vetted for employment, so I don't know why
they'd bother to dig in that direction now.  What they had
hard evidence of, was that my ex came onto Marcos' payroll because
Danny arranged the whole thing.  Prior to that, Rick looked
like your average, smug investor."

"How did Danny escape the net if he brought
Rick into the organization?"

I snorted and stuffed another bite of
blueberry pancake into my mouth.  "Easy.  Uncle Sully
needed a good investor.  A relative made a referral. 
Nothing criminal in that.  The bureau could suggest 'til the
stars fell that Datello was aware of the type of investment service
needed.  Without proof, it would sound like the ranting of an
organization bent on vendetta, not justice, especially if Danny's
businesses are clean."

"Is that why you want to talk to David?"

"They need to give me a
better reason for trying to drag my case into theirs beyond
because we have suspicion
.  I'm not getting sucked into round three of Mark
Seleeby all over again, Johnny.  As far as I'm concerned, the
matter of Rick's murder ended when they found their suspicious
weapon."

"You sure about that?"

A bone was tossed.  "I thought it was a
grave mistake at the time, but you were right.  It gave me
peace that I never thought I'd feel again."

"Unusual way of saying thank you, Doc."

I stared down at my empty
plate and wondered at how I'd packed all that food away. 
Orion was a conundrum, a mystery, the unseen force coming who would
not be stopped or deterred by my ingrained tactics.  "It was
reckless and dangerous and sucked you into something that could've
ruined
your
life.  Do you really want me to say thank you for
that?"

"What I'd like is for you to tell me how you
feel, without anything else influencing it."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You're very welcome, Doc.  Want
another pancake?"

"Maybe," I cast a sidelong glance.  He
looked inordinately pleased, from the thank you or the agreement to
eating more, I wasn't sure.  "I thought you said veal
parmigiana was the only thing you knew how to cook."

"Pancakes aren't cooking."

"You'll have to let me make my version of
them for you sometime.  I think you'd have a new appreciation
for your cooking skills if I did."

"I might hold you to that offer."  He
paused briefly before delving back into more serious and pressing
issues.  "Maya's going to call when the exhumation is
done.  Crevan promised to notify Mrs. McNamara first thing
this morning.  Zack sent me a text last night.  The order
on McNamara was issued by one of our judges that used to golf with
the guy, so there were no objections."

"People know when things really went to hell
in Darkwater Bay, don't they?"

"I'm afraid so.  Fortunately, there are
those willing to risk potential consequences for daring to
challenge what things have become.  Zack conveyed another
tidbit of information you might be interested in as well."

"What was it?"

"Don Weber scheduled a press conference for
nine this morning.  I thought you might like to attend."

"I would," I said.  "Although I suspect
what it is he's going to announce."

"An affair?"

"It's probably a little more complicated
than that."  I thought again about Crevan Conall, and his
struggle as a gay man in denial.  It would probably scare the
hell out of him to see what happened to Don Weber in the aftermath
of a public coming-out party.  I don't know how I knew that's
what Weber would announce, it simply seemed obvious to me.

"Well, it's been an open secret for years
that Commissioner Hardy has a mistress who lives out on Hennessey
Island.  I figured it was the dirt someone held over his head
when you told me he was being blackmailed.  I think both of
them will be surprised that the public cares less about that moral
turpitude clause than they do the fact that it made both of them
vulnerable to coercion."

"What if Weber's mistress is a mister?"

Johnny's head rolled forward.  "Certain
parts of town would cheer.  Others wouldn't care to hear it,
but the majority would probably demand his resignation.  Is
that what his big secret is?"

"Possibly.  He never confided it to me
specifically, but he seemed distraught at the idea of it becoming
public knowledge."  I swirled my fork through the puddle of
syrup on the plate.

"I love it that you're still hungry," Johnny
chuckled.  He sliced a wedge of pancake from his plate and
transferred it to mine."

"How would you feel about him if that's what
he says today, Johnny?"

"I guess it’s none of my business beyond how
it affected the way he did his job for all these years.  Like
you said though, you don't know what he's going to say."

"His kids know the truth.  So does his
wife.  She filed for divorce."

"Ouch."

"It was unfair for him to deceive her for
years and years, but what choice does society offer really? 
You either live in denial, not just of an attraction that is
hardwired before birth, but of a part of your existence, or you
endure the judgment of society by being true to yourself."

"You're not trying to tell me something are
you?"

"About me?  No.  I'm not secretly
attracted to women."  I thought about my panicked notion of
having a sex change at one point and laughed softly.  "In
fact, if I had a sex change tomorrow, only then would I be
gay."

"If you were a guy, I think a lot of us
would be gay if it meant we had a shot."

I ate three more bites of pancake and pushed
the plate away.  "I should get ready for therapy.  Can we
check in with Devlin before we leave the hospital?"

"Sure," Johnny agreed.  "Are you
planning to take another run at our mute witness?"

"I think the subtlety of Devlin will be far
more effective coaxing details out of her than anything I could
say. I'm just curious about what he might've learned since last
night.  It was good that you and Chris recruited him. 
He's a good cop, a good guy."

"Yeah."  Johnny drifted away to some
unknown thought.  "You're right.  It's getting late,
Doc.  We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Chapter 19

I found myself perched on the stainless
steel counter in one of Maya's autopsy bays while she muttered over
the leather corpse of what I presumed was Harry McNamara. 
Johnny deposited me without eliciting a promise that I wouldn't run
off and headed down to the crime lab to chat with Forsythe about
forensic evidence in David Ireland's murder.