Forgotten Place (31 page)

"Then he'll get confirmation in about forty
minutes.  How far is this monument from here, and how long
will it take us to get there?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes depending on
traffic.  We should go now and see what's going on over
there.  If it looks suspicious, I'll call it off after we're
on the plane, taxiing for departure."

His chin propped on my shoulder.  "Fair
enough.  You know I won't let anything happen to you though,
right Doc?"

"I know you'd probably die trying."

The arms around me tightened.  "You're
safe with me.  Let's get moving.  The sooner we talk to
Levine, the sooner I can get you on that plane back to Darkwater
Bay where I know I can see what's coming miles before it
arrives."

I took a circuitous route to the Jefferson
Memorial.  The northeast wind had picked up since we took
refuge in my brownstone.  It whipped white dust devils of snow
in the crisp night air.  Other than that, the memorial
appeared to be deserted.  Johnny insisted that I let him out
of the car on one pass behind the stone structure so he could check
out the interior for anything lurking in the shadows. 

On the second circle around the monument, he
reappeared out of the midst of naked trees that looked like
sinister monsters without their leaves.  He climbed into the
car. 

"It's deserted, Helen.  Nobody's
there."

Before I could interrogate his thoroughness,
his cell phone rang again.  I jumped and dug it out of his
coat pocket.

"Hello?"

"Jenny's Asian Fusion, off of Water
Street.  Park in the lot.  I'll take you to the
slip.  Come now."

My eyes darted across the waterway to the
docks on the other side.  Boats.  Yachts. 
Sailboats.  Fishing boats.

"We're not meeting here after all,
Johnny.  The cagey bastard must've known I'd show up
early.  He's been watching from across the water.  We're
meeting on a boat."

"See?  Nothing to worry about at
all."

I felt his unease radiating around me, saw
the tight line of his jaw, the narrowed and vigilant hawk eyes
devouring the horizon.  Johnny was as unsure of this meeting
as I was, probably more, since my paranoia over David's behavior
had only spiked in the last hour or so.

Across the bridge, I found the lot for the
specified restaurant and parked.  The aroma of fried something
wafted into my nostrils.  My stomach growled.

Johnny chuckled.  "Depending on how
fast we flee this meeting, maybe we could grab something to
go.  Your stomach rumbling is music to my ears."

I pointed through the windshield of the
rental car toward the figure in a black wool trench coat walking up
the dock.  "There he is."  I glanced to my right. 
"Maybe I should go alone."

He already jerked the door open and climbed
out of the car.  No way would anyone be able to miss the
monumental frame guarding my safety.  David saw it too. 
His step faltered for a moment, but he pressed on.

We met at the end of the boardwalk. 
David eyed me critically.  "I thought you said you were doing
well."

Even bundled beneath layers of wool and
leather, my frailty remained obvious.  "It's been a
challenging recovery.  You can surmise my concern over meeting
outdoors now.  I'm freezing."

He glanced at Johnny and nodded in silent
greeting.  "Let's go to the boat.  It's not spacious, but
it's warm and private.  I see you nearly followed all of my
instructions, Helen."

"You can say anything in front of Johnny,
David.  He knows everything."

An expression flitted over David's face,
half suspicion, half chagrin.  "Yes, I imagine he knows a
great deal more than you realize, Helen."

I had to duck to enter the tiny cabin on the
boat.  David was right about the space on both counts. 
It was small but toasty warm.  I peeled off my gloves and
rubbed my hands together furiously for ten seconds before Johnny
stilled them by clasping them between his. 

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I nodded.  Turned to David, "What's
going on, David?  Why would the bureau threaten to fire you
for talking to me?"

A wary look turned on Johnny.  "Because
the FBI is more concerned with the company you're keeping than
anything else right now, Helen.  We don't want sensitive
information falling on ears that have no business hearing it."

"Johnny?"  I couldn't mask the shock in
my voice.  "But... David, he's the guy who put a stop to
Seleeby's witch hunt.  How can he go from bringing a dire
situation to the attention of Seleeby's bosses one second, and
someone to distrust the next?"  My heart pounded so hard, I
was sure David could hear it.  This was exactly what I feared
would happen when Johnny took matters into his own hands and framed
Eddie Franchetta for Rick's murder.  The urge to confess my
crime and remove doubt regarding Johnny's good character
overwhelmed me.

"That was," David jerked me back into
reality, "before the FBI learned that Mr. Orion made an
unauthorized visit at Attica Correctional Facility."

The early stages of hyperventilation
began.  Flared nostrils.  Oxygen starvation screaming
from every cell in my body.  Revving respiratory muscles ready
to jump into action.

"I made no secret that I
went to see Wendell Eriksson," Johnny said calmly.  "And why
would it be permitted if such a meeting were truly
unauthorized
?  I
realize you feds like to throw your weight around, but you don't
control the direction that other law enforcement officials take
with regard to their investigations."

"And what pray tell could Wendell have told
you about anything in Darkwater Bay?"

Johnny crossed his legs casually and reached
for my floundering hand.  "Because Wendell Eriksson is a yet
untapped resource of knowledge."

"Relating to what exactly, Mr. Orion?"

Johnny's grin dropped the temperature in the
small cabin by ten degrees.  "Commander, if you don't mind, or
if you prefer an informal conversation, Johnny will do nicely."

"Fine,
Commander
Orion.  What would
Helen's father possibly know about crime in Darkwater Bay, or
anywhere outside the five boroughs for that matter?"

"Specifically?  Nothing at all. 
Yet I got the distinct impression that Wendell knew just about
every name in organized crime that played the game back in the
day.  Given my interest in Danny Datello and his blood tie to
Sully Marcos, I shouldn't need to explain why I'd be interested in
learning everything I possibly can."

"So that's why you met with Wendell?"

"Not at all, but that was the pretense I
used."

I had to admire Johnny's bold approach with
David.  I was quaking in my Jimmy Choo's at the thought of
toying with my brilliant mentor.

"Then do tell, why were you there?"

"Because I love Helen, and I could see how
much it was hurting her, not knowing how he was.  Oh," he
added when David's jaw dropped in shock, "I won't deny that her
feelings for her father are complex.  By necessity, she has to
hate him in part, doesn't she?  That's what the world expected
of her.  But at the same time, he's still the father that
loved her and nurtured her and applauded her piano recitals and
made sure she learned martial arts so she could protect herself if
the need ever arose.  You don't simply cut an emotional tie
like that because logic dictates it's the smart move, Agent
Levine."

"She asked you to see him?"

"No," I rasped.  "I most certainly did
not."

Johnny grinned again.  "Yeah, Doc lied
to me and told me her father was dead.  It wasn't until I read
the report I requested from the bureau, the process by which she
was vetted for service, that I realized the conflict that was
eating her alive.  I mean, you're a profiler, David.  May
I call you David?"

"I am a profiler."  His gaze fell on
me, dissecting in ways that were both familiar and
uncomfortable.

"Here this woman is, working herself to the
bone – literally – for an agency that prides itself on trusting no
one and turning on anyone when it suits their whims, and she finds
out she married some scumbag money launderer for Sully Marcos."

"Johnny, stop," I rasped.

"No, Helen.  These sons of bitches need
to understand what they did to you.  It wasn't enough to put
her under the microscope like she was a willing partner in his
crime," Johnny said, "no, you had to sic Seleeby on her after the
guy died."  Johnny made a gun with his thumb and forefinger
and held it to his head, miming what I told him happened to
Rick.  "Did anybody bother to check for gunshot residue on his
hands?"

David's eyes widened.  "If he killed
himself, what happened to the gun?  How did it get to Sully's
waste facility?"

Johnny shrugged.  "Maybe Franchetta was
watching him.  Maybe they saw it as a golden opportunity to
make Helen look bad, or simply annoy Seleeby for being such a prick
for all these years.  Or maybe, Franchetta stole Sully's money
himself and wanted to make sure that Rick wasn't around to expose
it.  I really don't care."

"Johnny please don't do this," I
whispered.

"No, Doc.  That little visit I made to
Wendell cost me everything.  I lost you because you were so
pissed off that I butted into your life.  The way I see it,
I've got absolutely nothing to lose anymore.  I may as well
lay it out for our clueless federal cops."

He turned his attention back to David. 
"You see, Helen gave up everything she loved for the FBI.  She
denied herself contact with a father whose actions she condemned
but whose person she loves very much.  She denied herself the
time necessary to process that subtle distinction.  She
focused on that career you offered her when she was still searching
for an identity that would distinguish herself as more than nature
and nurture determining that she had no choice but be the criminal
her parents were.  She clung to that identity you offered her
to the exclusion of everything else, including her marriage, and
then she was supposed to just shut up and accept it when the bureau
pointed a guilty finger at her and insisted she should've known
what Rick was doing."

Burning ache swelled in my throat and made
it hard to breathe.  How could he believe all of this? 
How could he know things that I felt but had never articulated into
thoughts in my brain?

He wasn't finished with his
tirade.  "Instead of relying on the very process that made you
determine that Helen was
good
enough
to join the hallowed ranks of the
FBI in the first place, you turned on her not once, but
twice.  Because God knows, Helen's the kind of woman who would
never settle for divorce.  No, after that, she had to decide
that legally ending her ties to that douchebag ex-husband wasn't
good enough.  She must've preferred the death clause of the
wedding vows."

"I never suspected her!  Not of any of
it."

"No, but when she stood at his grave, at the
funeral that she had no moral or legal obligation to hold for him,
you did nothing to stop Seleeby from accosting her then and
there.  And then you condemned her for throwing her career
away."

David clenched his fist and pressed it to
his lips.  All three of us breathed heavily in
silence. 

Finally, David spoke.  "Helen, I'm so
sorry.  I hope you know that I have never doubted you."

My ability to breathe had
constricted to a high pitched wheeze through my tightened throat, I
was sure. 
Johnny, you fool. 
You brilliant, magnificent, loyal fool.
 

"If the fact that I loved her enough to
learn the one thing she would never ask of anyone cost me a
relationship with her, but I will never regret it.  I had the
honor of telling her that Wendell loves her and that he doesn't
blame her for walking away from him.  Now if that conversation
truly warrants the attention of the almighty FBI, I'm sorry. 
You all are a more fucked up organization than I ever
believed.  But don't expect me to apologize for using a
legitimate purpose in seeing Wendell Eriksson to offer a little
peace to a woman I will simply love for the rest of my life."

David cleared his throat.  "This was
quite unexpected, Johnny.  You made your point, and you are
correct.  It was a perspective in all of this that I'm certain
no one has ever considered.  For that, I owe Helen my deepest
apology."

I knew if I moved, I would crack and shatter
into a billion weepy pieces.  The only glue holding me
together was the truth.  Johnny's ability to craft fiction on
the fly was impressive.  But I couldn't let myself believe for
one second that it was more than very creative bullshit he spouted
off the cuff to explain why he visited Wendell.  Like me,
Johnny had to know how far Wendell would go to protect me.  If
approached, Dad probably refused to talk at all.

"I feel foolish," David said.  "I
thought I was protecting you, Helen."

Speech locked in frozen vocal chords.

"I owe you an apology too, Johnny. 
Clearly you have an insight with Helen that those of us who have
known and loved her for years lack."

"Apology accepted.  I think in light of
what you've learned tonight, whatever this Agent Ritter wanted to
ask her has been revealed."

"Yes," David said.  "Am I at liberty to
share the gist of this conversation?"

"Tell 'em the whole damned thing," Johnny
crossed his arms over his chest.  "I have absolutely no regret
for my actions, nor are they classified secrets."

I on the other hand, continued to marvel at
his bravado.  Iron will with nerves to match.  Had I ever
really deceived Johnny Orion?  Somehow I doubted it.

"Helen, when you called Wednesday, you said
you needed a favor."