Shadow of Eden (54 page)

“I used to get the shakes, too,” he said conversationally. “After a tense operation like this, it used to hit me just like you, but I got over it.” He poured in a large quantity of sugar from a glass dispenser and stirred it again.

Tasting his coffee, he looked satisfied and took another, longer sip. “Creepy about that woman in the bar, knowing she’s going to die and all. And not a damn thing we can do either. What a total waste of a life.”

A steaming carafe of coffee appeared and the waitress, balancing three plates in her other hand, topped off Valenti’s cup. Steve picked up his mug with both hands and felt its warmth. He gingerly sipped at the strong black liquid, which burned as it went down. “Why did that guy make you freeze up back there?”

Valenti looked disgusted. “Kirk Mallis. Blast from the past.”

“You
know
him?” Steve was incredulous.

“Knew him, yeah, at the Bureau. We were both stationed in the district office here and occasionally worked together. So, I guess I knew him.” Valenti sipped his freshened coffee and waved his hand as if dismissing the whole affair. To Steve, his casualness seemed forced.

“I heard he started a private agency, you know, with top drawer clients who want stuff and don’t really care about how it happens. Valuable, if you know what I mean. Trident’s gotta be in tight with him.”

“So what happened between you two?”

Valenti’s eyes grew distant, guarded. “Nothing to tell.”

“Why else would a competent professional ditch his career, move to Phoenix, and take up chasing philanderers? The dots don’t connect.”

“The dots don’t connect?” Valenti’s mouth turned up slightly. “You’ve been watching too many bad detective movies.”

As Valenti stared into space, Steve could only imagine the memories he must be dredging up. What possibly could have happened to make a man want to shoot a former associate?

“It’s been over almost thirteen years now that I got out.”

“Why?”

“What I am about to tell you is confidential. Even Maria doesn’t know this.” He leaned back and stared off toward the ceiling. “I was born Anthony Fanelli in Rochester, New York. I became an FBI agent, my lifelong dream, you know, apple pie and everything. Saw too many bad detective movies, I guess, but there I was, full of myself, all proud and everything.”

“Then reality butted in. We had a shithead for a station chief, too interested in looking pretty and doing everything for political reasons. The whole section hated him. Don’t get me started, but morale sucked. He singlehandedly dashed my all-American illusions of saving the world.”

“After awhile, I fell off the straight and narrow, you know, taking drug money in exchange for protection. It was easy money and since we were damn well not likely to close down the drug trade, I didn’t see much harm in it. We all did it; it was that bad. I struck a deal with some suppliers that kept them somewhat in bounds and they kept me in Calvin Klein’s.” Valenti looked out the coffee shop window and took a long drink from his coffee.

“Here’s where it gets nasty,” he said, putting his cup down. “Mallis was an agent in my section. He confronted me about my little deal and wanted a part of it. He threatened me with exposure so I cut him in. In fact, he had cut himself into lots of deals, really, extorting his fellow agents and we all hated him for it, almost as much as we hated ourselves.

“Well, it was just peachy for a while until he began mixing sex with the money, taking turns with the addicts. Not just ordinary sex, mind you, he likes it rough and bloody. I warned him not to mess with that stuff, but he wouldn’t listen. Then he ended up killing a woman who pissed him off for some reason. He called wanting my help to dump the body; some slut, he said, who had it coming to her. What got me,” Valenti continued, “was her two-year old. The little girl kept trying to wake up her dead mommy.”

Valenti stared out the large window again. Steve watched him, enthralled and sickened at the same time. He never would have guessed a story like this. But, Steve realized, it would take something really dark to cause someone like Valenti to walk away from his past.

“That was it,” Valenti said, “I couldn’t rationalize my bullshit any longer.”

“What did you do?” Steve asked.

“I arrested all the dealers and closed down our cushy ride. We got investigated, of course, after a number of them claimed that we had been on the take. While the charges didn’t stick, Mallis and I got booted. We had quite a scene, we two, with all sorts of threats that I took literally. So, I left town and changed my name.”

“And Mallis has a grudge.”

“That he does.” Valenti smiled wryly. “I guess I figured we’d run into each other someday. Funny how the world works.”

“Is that why you were so reluctant to take my case?”

“You noticed? Well, not the Mallis part, I couldn’t have known it would be him; I—” Valenti studied his coffee. “I was rusty and you were high profile.” He stopped a long minute before continuing. “Too many years gone by. Harmon called after you two spoke. He said you might call, but I wasn’t sure I wanted the case.”

“What convinced you?”

Valenti picked up his mug and held it in his two large hands, elbows propped on the table. “The girl, you know, with the Eden thing. Something about her reminded me about that murdered woman. It made me think.”

Steve reflected on Valenti’s story and the all the melancholy held inside. “You just stopped one life and started all over? Jesus, Valenti or . . . Fanelli?”

Valenti set his mug down carefully, his eyes sad. “Fanelli’s gone; he no longer exists. Maria’s never even heard the name.”

Steve recalled Valenti’s explicit instructions on how to disappear and had a pang of guilt for the resentment he had felt towards Valenti in the first few days. Valenti knew what it took—in spades—having not only disappeared himself, but also with no chance of reclaiming his past life. He had been exactly the right person to guide Steve into his hiding. What had happened to his family? His parents or siblings?

Valenti’s words broke Steve’s thoughts. “But now that Mallis knows I’m in this, well, I’m worried about her and my girls.”

“Oh, shit.” Steve clapped his hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry—”

“Stop,” Valenti interrupted. “Don’t. Look, Doc, I talked with Maria last night. She told me Elisa—you met her at the house that day—”

“Sure, beautiful girl.”

Maria just found out she’d been taking a friend’s Eden prescription.”

“Oh, no—”

Valenti held up his hand “I told Maria to have her stop. I don’t know how long she’s been doing it, but whatever, this has gotten real personal.” Valenti looked at Steve pointedly. “So,
Dad
, we’ve got some ass-kicking to do.”

Chapter 118

A
nne sat on the overstuffed couch in her parent’s den with Johnnie resting his tired head in her lap. She stroked his hair as she reread the printed email message from Steve that had arrived earlier that day.

“Dear Anne and Johnnie, I am fine and well. I miss you both dearly. I think of you constantly and want only to be with you and hold you both for a long, long time. We’re making progress, but nothing I can tell you. Be safe and happy. Love, your husband and dad.”

Anne tried to imagine what Steve was doing and how he was managing to make progress. He was such a fish out of water with all this. And he probably was not eating or sleeping with all he must be going through.

If only . . . she forced herself to stop thinking like that. It didn’t help and it made her crazy. She hated being shunted away, not able to help. If anything, her instincts were to fight for her family, not run away. She was going nuts cooped up at her parent’s house, but she had to take care of Johnnie. If it had not been for him, she never would have left Phoenix. What a decision to make, between the two men she loved most.

She wondered if she had made the right one.

Chapter 119

M
orloch sat in his limousine staring distractedly out the window. He was in a pensive mood that the sultry model, Sandra, sitting next to him couldn’t lift. He should be happy about Castell’s decision to get him fast-track status, but Mallis hadn’t called him about Dr. James. He sipped his champagne automatically without thirst or enjoyment.

“Honey,” the woman said in her thin soprano, “lets go to Rocket’s and stretch our legs.” To make her point, she leaned over pressing her breasts against Morloch’s arm. “Please?”

“Not now.” He wanted closure on the James.

“But you said we could go.” She stuck her bottom lip out unhappily.

“Why don’t we go back to my place and I’ll call up a massage for you by the Jacuzzi?” That would give him some quiet time.

She seemed to like the idea. “And what about you? I don’t want you to be lonely.”

He smiled at her and slid his hand up her thigh. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

She got a far away look on her face as she pulled his hand even higher under her skirt. “I’d love a massage. Can you get Andrea? She’s the best.”

“I’ll see if I can get her.” He flipped the limo intercom switch. “I want to go home.”

“All right, sir.”

“And call in for a massage. See if Andrea can make it.”

“Right away, sir.”

Morloch’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He slid it out and flipped it open. “Morloch,” he said before the scrambler clicks had stopped. That would make it Mallis. “Morloch,” he repeated.

“Vicktor, he got away. He had a vest on. We gave chase, but he has a—”

“How in the hell did that happen?” Morloch snapped, his tone incredulous.

“I was just telling you. He has a bodyguard, ex-bureau. We shot James, but he wore Kevlar. We chased him, but he got lucky.”

Morloch’s mouth worked in amazement. “Goddamn it! How did you fuck this up so thoroughly? Why can’t you fucking kill him? He’s just a goddamn doctor.”

“Vicktor,” Mallis’s voice had an edge that made Morloch stop. “We lost one of ours.”

“You did?” Morloch struggled to believe how his professional team could have failed so thoroughly. He forced himself to calm down and think clearly. “What are you going to do?” He had completely forgotten about Sandra sitting next to him.

“I’ll need a break. I think he’s still in Washington, but I don’t know for how long.”

“Perhaps I can help.” Morloch fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I have James’s cell phone number.”

“Give it to me,” Mallis said immediately.

After he hung up, Morloch turned to Sandra and saw her frightened expression.
Damn.
He forced a smile. “Sorry, Honey. Just business.” He reached for her, but she shrunk away from him.

“Take me home, please.”

“Sure, baby. No problem.”

Chapter 120

“L
inda,” Pierre Justice said over the secure phone, “My assistant trade attaché just walked in and handed me a bombshell.”

Justice’s call from Beijing caught Resnick in her office between a flurry of frustrating calls to the Pacific Rim allies. She had an old cup of coffee in her hand and a bitter expression on her face. “What now, Pierre?”

“Actually it might be a bit of good news.”