Cloaked in Blood (16 page)

“Has he?  Has he told you things that
you swore to keep hidden from me?”

“I would never make a promise like
that.  If anything, we’ve been dishonest with him about the
things I’ve shared with you.  Helen, where is all of this
coming from?”

There was no gentle way of delivering the
news.  “Remember when I told you I thought I recognized
someone at Sanderfield’s crime scene?”

“You thought he reminded you of your
ex-husband, but Helen, we both know that’s simply impossible.”

“It was,” I admitted.  “But today, I
would’ve sworn it was Rick who showed up with my father at Kostas’
restaurant.  I even called him Rick when he tried to run away
from me.”

Johnny’s muscles flexed.  “What
happened out there?  Dammit, I should’ve never let you go
alone!”

“Rick is dead, but someone who shares a
whole lot of genetic traits with my ex isn’t.”

Johnny frowned.  “A brother?”

“A cousin,” I said, “one I tried to save and
thought I failed.”

“Datello is
alive
?” Johnny
thundered.  “Jesus, Helen!  How is that possible?”

“Remember the FBI agents that detained us
and prevented access to surgery the day Preston shot him?”

He nodded.  “That Agent Soule who took
over the investigation into the Marcos family…” his voice trailed
off.

“That’s right, Johnny.  They arranged
for Danny’s death to protect him, so they could use him to testify
against Sully.”

He nodded.  “That actually makes a lot
of sense.  It was a swift way to salvage a bad situation.”

“I wondered at the time why they were here,
why they didn’t immediately jump into the investigation when
Preston was a no-show after Sofia Datello was abducted,
Johnny.  It made no sense to me.  But I was so upset by
everything else that happened, my failure to save Danny’s life, the
dead little girl in the bay, the infant abduction and possible link
to a human trafficking ring, I stopped asking the questions I
needed to ask.”

“And David knew the answers?”

“He had to, Johnny.  Think about the
enormous size of the FBI, the sheer volume of agents in field
offices, at the Hoover Building, at Quantico.  Why would an
agent like Preston stick out in David’s mind?  He had no
trouble recalling the man when I asked if he knew him.”

Johnny’s fist clenched and started tapping a
rhythm on the table.  “He knew something was fishy in the
Montgomery field office.”

“I wonder how long they’ve been aware of the
problems in this state, Johnny.  And then what do we do? 
We take the bait, invite David to bring a team out here and help
with the investigation into Sanderfield’s campaign
contributions.  He’s known all along.”

“Even about Danny Datello?”

I nodded.  “Danny said that he’s spoken
to David personally.”

“The bandages you saw on his face. 
Plastic surgery?”

“He’s still clearly Danny Datello,” I
said.  “A much younger looking version, maybe a little darker
hair.  It’s subtle, not drastic.  He doesn’t scream his
real identity.”

“How in the hell did he hook up with
Wendell?”

“I didn’t ask,” I said with some
disgust.  “Again, I seem to be so susceptible to shocking news
that I forget to ask the right questions.  I suppose I could
assume that Danny sought shelter in the church.  Dad had him
disguised as a monk.”

Johnny laughed.  “Well, I suppose I’m
relieved that he’s still alive, Helen.”

“Are you?  I know how deep this
animosity is between the two of you.”

“You once said that you thought he hated me
more than he hated you,” Johnny recalled.  “You were
right.  It goes back a very long time.  The thing with
Masconi didn’t help matters.”

“He wants our help, Johnny.  Danny
wants to help us stop whoever it is that kidnapped his
daughter.  He wants answers, and I think that ultimately, he’d
really like to have his life back.”

“Celeste doesn’t know,” Johnny said.

“No, and he doesn’t want her to know he’s
still alive.  At least not yet.  I can’t disagree with
him about the safety issues.  These people went to a lot of
trouble to make Danny look like the mastermind in this
scheme.  If they had the slightest hint that he didn’t die,
Celeste and Sofia would be in grave danger all over again.  We
already know they’ll stoop to any low to achieve their goals.”

“Does he have any idea who’s behind all of
this?” Johnny asked.

“I doubt it.  If he does, he’s not
aware of what he knows.”

“Is that all of it?”

“Not quite.”  I explained what Danny
told me about Franchetta.  “You see the inherent problem with
all of that.  If I’m deposed or subpoenaed and repeat the
story I’ve been telling for months, it’s perjury.  If
Franchetta changes his story yet again and tells the truth, I’m
going to prison for the rest of my life.”

“You think Franchetta will do that yet
again?”

“David told me that Franchetta has a new
tale.  He said that I was there when Rick committed suicide,
but that I took the gun.  He also said that someone is
pressuring him to tell the prosecutors that I murdered Rick.”

“So somebody wants him to tell the truth,”
Johnny’s tone grew grim.  “But how in the hell would he know
the suicide story in the first place?  I’m the only one you
shared all the details with, Helen, and I swear to God I didn’t
tell a soul.”

“But you did, indirectly, and then the day
that we arrested Datello, I admitted as much too.”

He groaned.  “Levine.  He’s the
one who knows the whole suicide story.”

“But why would he give that information to
Franchetta?  He’s suborning perjury, Johnny.”

“Only if he knows it’s a lie. 
Obviously, he believes it’s what really happened.  If
Franchetta happened to mention suicide as an option, David would’ve
latched onto it because he believes it’s the truth.”

“Or maybe I’m not the liar I’ve always
thought I am.  You seem to see through me well enough.”

Johnny chuckled.  “Not always,
Helen.  Most of the time, it’s the silent clues that give you
away.”

“And David has been a profiler for more than
twenty years.  You think he’s not every bit as good at reading
behavior as you are?”

“I’d like to think you never let him get as
close to you as I am.”

Well, there was that.  “The only person
who knows me even remotely as well as you do is my father, and
you’ve left him in the dust after everything we’ve been through
together.”

Johnny wrapped his arm around my shoulders
and pressed a kiss against my temple.  “That makes me a little
happier than it probably should, sweetheart.  Then again, I
can’t be compelled to testify against you now, and there is no such
privilege between parents and their children.”

I chuffed out an unladylike snort. 
“Like that would make Dad be honest.  He’d never testify
against me, Johnny.  He went to prison for almost twenty years
just to make sure that I had a chance at the life I wanted, instead
of being that girl whose father got away with murder.”

He rubbed my arm once and slid away from the
table.  “I think,” he said, heading for the coffee pot, “we
should consider moving Datello here, Helen.  I want complete
access to him, twenty-four-seven.  I’ve got to learn
everything he knows, even the stuff he’s not aware might be helpful
or important.”

“Do you think that’s wise?  What if
David comes back to Darkwater Bay in the foreseeable future? 
He’s in and out of here all the time, Johnny.”

“We’ll clean out the nanny suite and stash
him there.  It makes more sense than risking his safety out
there wherever your father has him.”

“And if he won’t agree?”

Johnny’s smile was a little concerning, too
cold, too calculating.

“I don’t want you treating him like a
criminal anymore, Johnny.”

“He’s responsible for one murder that we
know of,” he said.

“And I’m responsible for more than one, yet
you have no qualms about cloaking my crimes.  Rick wasn’t the
villain I believed him to be either.  But I pulled the
trigger.  I lied to everyone, including you.  How can you
hate him for something he did that was far more justified than what
I did?”

“Emotional distress.”

“And you weren’t every bit as disturbed by
what everyone – including you – thought Salvatore Masconi did to
Brighton Bennett?  She was raped and dismembered,
Johnny.  Killing him wasn’t even first degree murder, and you
know damn well that if you’d arrested Datello for the crime, he
would’ve probably been acquitted anyway due to jury
nullification.  People would’ve lauded what he did, not
punished him for it.  You said it yourself.  It would be
hypocritical to prosecute him when you suspected what he did and
refused to investigate it.  Not to mention the hypocrisy where
I’m concerned.  You know what I did, yet you broke the law to
protect me.”

“I have it on high authority that God
understands why I did that, Helen.  A very evil man was
finally arrested.  My so-called crime probably saved
lives.  Who knows how many people would’ve died if Sully
continued to supply terrorists with biofuels?”

“If Danny agrees to come here and stay while
we catch the people responsible for selling children, you’re going
to promise me that you’ll let all of this ancient history with
Danny go.”

“I’ll –”  he compressed his lips
tightly.  “I’ll try.”

“You’ll do it.”

He sighed.  “Fine.  Bygones are
bygones.  How can you contact Wendell to let him know the
plan?”

I pulled out my cell phone.

Chapter 16

“She met with a priest, for heaven’s
sake.  What the devil is going on?”

“You personally saw this?”

“No,” the old man said.  “One of the
orderlies has been amenable to running certain errands for me in
sympathy over my recent loss.”

The sigh reverberated over the phone
line.  The old man was either so arrogant he didn’t appreciate
the danger they faced now, or he was getting senile.  Bringing
more witnesses into the conspiracy against Helen Eriksson was an
incredibly stupid thing to do.  “What excuse did you give him
for following her?”

“Why, I told him the truth of course.”

He gritted his teeth.  “Which version
of the truth, Lyle?”

“That she’s my granddaughter, but that we
were estranged because of her horrible father who not only
destroyed my beloved daughter, but severed my relationship with my
only grandchild.”

“You know that isn’t true, and it brings a
ridiculously unnecessary risk to us should Helen catch him spying
on her and beats the truth out of him.  You’ll have the FBI
and OSI crawling up your backside like there’s no tomorrow.”

“They’re going to do that anyway by virtue
of my relationship with Terry.  He was my step-son after
all.  Perhaps they’d be interested in knowing who had the
strongest motive to see him dead.”

“Implicating yourself, old man?”

“Careful,” Henderson warned.  “Through
all of this, we have kept you insulated, but your hands are as
dirty as mine.  I won’t go down alone, and I’m not
particularly pleased that you acted without at least consulting me
first.”

“I had no choice.  Terry was a
risk.  You said it yourself in December.  If it came down
to tying off any loose ends, we wouldn’t hesitate to remove
him.  You’re convinced that Melissa would never betray
us.”

“Of course she won’t.  And don’t you
dare make a move on her.  I mean it.  I’ll go to the
police myself if one hair on her head is harmed.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would,” Lyle laughed.  “I
have far less to lose than you do.  After all, I’m an old man,
and I haven’t many years left to live anyway.  I think it
would be quite fitting to sacrifice you to save the one person in
this mess who truly matters to me.”

In that moment, his partner in crime for
nearly forty years knew the truth.  The mess was beyond damage
control, beyond making a few people disappear, others silenced with
generous donations to causes that mattered.  No amount of
blackmail of public figures could stop this righteous bent law
enforcement had taken since the fall of Jerry Lowe last spring.

There was only one solution.  He’d
heard it many times in the past, even said it, if only to
himself.  A secret is only safe when one person holds
it.  It was time to bury the past once and for all, and to
make sure that all the evidence was buried so deeply, no one would
ever uncover it.

Dad’s idea of low profile was blending
in. 
Nothing flashy, but nothing trashy, Sprout. 
Don’t look too rich or too poor.

I’d nearly ignored that advice two months
ago when I ran away from Darkwater to liberate him from
Attica.  My disguise was a bit on the trashy side for the
exit, and a little too flashy for my entrance to Attica.  Then
again, I had no choice but to meet the prison’s expectations of an
FBI agent if I wanted unfettered access to my father.

It disturbed me, this uncertainty about
David Levine.  I had no idea how much he actually knew, what
he suspected, what he could prove.  My thoughts invariably
drifted back to the day my life truly began to spiral out of
control.  The look on David’s face when Seleeby stepped
forward and accused me – subtly at that point – of either knowing
what Rick Hamilton had done or being responsible for his death
should’ve never been erased from my mind. 

David looked guilty as hell, like he was
part of something bigger than he ever wanted me to realize.

Now I wondered why.  I couldn’t explain
or accept the doubt gnawing its way through my gut.  I didn’t
want to believe that my crisis of morality blinded my more innate
sense of self preservation.  Yet here I stood, watching for
the arrival of the man I spent three years blaming for everything,
and I felt a greater kinship to Danny Datello than I did the man I
identified as my mentor for the past decade plus.