Cloaked in Blood (33 page)

“Who are you?  What do you want?”

“Helen, Christ!”

“Danny?  What the hell are you doing in
my bedroom?  Why did you attack me in my sleep?”

“Be quiet!” he hissed.

I eased the pressure of the gun and crawled
off.  As I reached for the lamp beside the bed, he hissed,
“Don’t!  There’s someone outside the house.”

“How would you –”

“Keep your voice down!  I know what I
saw.  I couldn’t sleep.  I haven’t been sleeping for the
past two and a half months, if you must know, but I was sitting
upstairs staring out the window, wondering how Celeste is, and I
saw a man scale the wall between your property and the neighbor to
the south.”

I pulled the slide on the .22 and flicked
off the safety.  “Take it.”

“What?  I don’t know how to use a
gun!”

He couldn’t see the eye roll.  “How can
you… never mind.  Just point and squeeze.  Keep your eyes
open, and do
not
shoot me if you ever want to see your wife
again.  Johnny would kill you.”

“If I’m holding the gun, what’re you doing?”
he whispered.

I yanked Johnny’s nightstand open and pulled
out another gun.  His was a Colt .45, much more lethal than
the one under my pillow.  I chambered a round and tiptoed
toward the bedroom door.

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, this is Darkwater
Bay.  We don’t exactly get a lot of moonlit nights out here,
Helen.”

“But you’re sure it was a man?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was a guy. 
If that was a woman, she’s one unfortunate lady.”

“Explain.”  I crept through the doorway
and inched along the gallery hallway.

“Too tall, broad shoulders, extremely short
hair.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Your shoulders aren’t broad, and I wasn’t
trying to insult you.  Do you think they’ve sent somebody
after you again?”

“If they did, it was a huge mistake.  I
won’t be taken unaware a second time,” I said grimly.  “You
didn’t recognize anything familiar about him?”

“I don’t know.  I panicked and came
down here to wake you up.  You’re a very sound sleeper by the
way.  And I’m not used to such lax security.  Nobody gets
into the penthouse by climbing over a wall.”

Right.  So much for the delusion that
my home was secure.  Even with the sophisticated alarm system,
the gate, the high walls, this wasn’t the first time it had been
invaded.  “The back of the house was breeched once
before.”

“I recall,” he said dryly.  “I seem to
remember that being one of the bogus charges against me last
winter.”

“Let it go, Danny.  When this is over,
you’ll go back to your perfect life with an ecstatic wife and a
solid marriage.  I’ll still have lunatics trying to kill
me.”

“Maybe if you stopped being so fascinated by
how they think –”

“Quiet!” I hissed.  We’d slipped
through the living room and stood near enough to the kitchen
doorway that I had an adequate view of the wall of glass at the
back of the house.  Even though the covered lanai prevented
shadows, I sensed movement.  “Stay here.”

“Where are you –”

I crouched and slipped quickly to the cover
of the kitchen island.  Danny barely peeked around the
doorway.  I waved him back and held my position.  A
slight clicking revealed my instincts were still on target. 
Whoever was outside the backdoor had a lock pick jiggling the
tumbler.  I held my breath and waited. 

Darkness dilated my pupils.  Adrenalin
heightened every perceptive nerve in my body.  I felt the
small gasp of air flow into the room when the door quickly slipped
open, heard the soft beep of the alarm system, the soft touch of
fingertips against the keypad.  The tiny red LED that
flickered turned green again, was like a giant beacon of light into
the otherwise dark room.

I stood quickly.  “Don’t move.”

“I’m unarmed.”

“Bullshit,” I growled.  “You move, I
shoot.  It would be justified, you son of a bitch.  You
just broke into my house, disarmed my security system.”

Something about his two words uttered so low
struck a chord of familiarity that chilled me to the bone despite
the fleece I wore to bed.  I inched backward toward the wall
and fumbled for the light switch.

“Just listen before you do something
foolish.”

Light flooded the room.  I gasped,
almost stunned enough to drop my weapon.  “
Mark
Seleeby
?”

I heard another swiftly drawn breath on the
other side of the wall.  Shit.  Seleeby – or anyone else
from the FBI – was the last person Danny wanted to find him. 
Now I had no backup.  Surely he was running for the safety of
any hiding place he could find.

Another shock hit.  Whispered softly:
“I’ve got your back.”

“What was that?” Seleeby asked.

“Why are you here?  I’m calling your
superiors, Seleeby.  You’ll lose your badge this time.  I
promise you that.”

“I haven’t got a badge left to lose,
Helen.  Thanks to you.  Thanks to Sullivan Marcos.”

“Don’t blame me for your mistakes.  You
could’ve left it alone.  You could’ve accepted the obvious
like everyone else.”

The dry swallow echoed loudly through the
open space.  “That’s not why I’m here.  I came to give
you a warning.”

“You should’ve emailed me.”

“We’ve never liked each other.  I never
bought it that you were completely ignorant about what your husband
was doing for Marcos.  Maybe you killed Hamilton.  Maybe
you didn’t.  It’s not my problem anymore, Helen, but you don’t
deserve the blindside that’s coming your way.”

I lowered my gun.  “I’m listening.”

“You can’t trust them, Helen.  They’ll
do to you what they did to me.”

“David said you got summoned back to
Washington, that they had questions for you about the off the
record meeting you had with Eddie Franchetta.  But you’re
wrong about what they can do to me, Mark.  The FBI doesn’t own
me anymore.”

“Oh, they called me back to D.C.  But
it wasn’t because of what that psychopath Franchetta told me on or
off the record.  They wanted to know about Alfred
Preston.”

“Alfred Preston?” I echoed.  “The
bastard that murdered Danny Datello in cold blood?  Don’t tell
me that they think I intentionally killed him, because our medical
examiner proved –”

“Stop talking,” Seleeby said.  “You
think they want it known that one of their own was part of some
human trafficking operation out here?  They don’t.  And
Datello isn’t dead, Helen.  That’s why I’m here.  I came
to warn you.  Your great friend, your number one defender,
David Levine?  He’s been lying through his teeth to you all
along, Helen.  He’s known that Datello isn’t dead from day
one.  Soule, that agent they gave my case to, he was angling
from the moment Datello was arrested for a way to safely get him
into federal custody.  Only they didn’t count on one of their
own trying to murder the guy.”

“Go on.”  I laid the gun on the
countertop.

“Datello got away from them.  He’s gone
underground, and now they’re scrambling.  Without his
testimony against Marcos, the whole case will fall apart. 
Even I knew Franchetta couldn’t convince a jury he was sitting
right in front of them while he sitting right in front of
them.  Without Datello, Sully Marcos walks.”

“What does any of this have to do with
me?”

“Ask David Levine.  Find out why he’s
so interested in a case that his team from Quantico wouldn’t
ordinarily touch with a ten foot pole.  Campaign
corruption?  How many cases like that did you work when you
were part of his team?”

“None, but he came out here at the request
of OSI and Governor Collangelo.  And it’s not so unusual for
the murder of a state senator to attract attention from the
FBI.”

“He had their attention long before all of
this started, Helen.  What the hell do you think Franchetta
said when he spilled his guts to me before I was removed from the
case?”

“I’m sure it was very credible.”

He clenched his fists.  “Stop being so
sarcastic and just listen to me.  I met with Franchetta more
than once.  The first time, it was before that business at
Sully’s waste management company went nuclear.”

I crossed my arms over my chest.  “What
did he tell you?”

“He said that Marcos was glad you came out
here.  He figured you’d off Datello for him and he wouldn’t
have to send anybody else to do the job.  Then when nothing
happened, and you closed that case against Jerry Lowe, Marcos
started getting concerned.”

“Because?”

“Because you weren’t looking at what he
wanted you to see.”

“Let me guess.  He wanted me to find
out that Danny had some sort of criminal enterprise out here,
right?  He figured if I didn’t just flat out kill him, I’d
arrest him and then he wouldn’t be a credible witness for the
prosecution if your case finally panned out.”

Seleeby nodded.  He started
pacing.  “I thought you were dirty.  But Franchetta told
me that it didn’t matter who killed Hamilton.  We’d never get
enough evidence against Sully to put him away.  He said I’d
never get enough evidence against you for Rick’s murder
either.”

“So you really had spoken to Franchetta when
you came out here in October last year?”

“Yes!  I lied about having the gun,
obviously, since it was found in Sully’s waste management
plant.  I came out here, thought I could scare you or bluff
you into tipping your hand.  Not that I ever really thought it
would work, but Preston contacted me.  He was pissed that you
got off scot free after Rick’s murder, that the bureau didn’t
arrest you and roll the dice with a circumstantial case against
you.”

“Preston brought you out here after me?”

“Yeah,” a hand swiped though his hair. 
“At the time, I was ecstatic that I finally had an ally.  So
he came back east with me and we confronted Franchetta again – off
the record.  This was after I was posted in Idaho. 
Franchetta had no idea I was off the case already.”

“That’s what David said the FBI wanted to
know.”

Seleeby shook his head adamantly. 
“They don’t give a crap what Franchetta says.  Nobody believes
him because he keeps changing his story.  I’m telling you,
they want to find a way to make it look like Preston wasn’t
dirty.  That’s what I came here to tell you, to warn you that
Levine isn’t telling you the truth.”

I sucked in a deep breath.  This
confirmed Danny’s fears about David too – not that I doubted
him.  Seleeby on the other hand, well, I’d never trust
him.  “And why all of a sudden are you so concerned about
warning me?  I’d think you’d be dancing for joy that the FBI
still doesn’t trust me or believe me.”

“Helping you helps me,” he insisted. 
“Don’t you get it?  They’d rather have living,
former
agents to punish for corruption than the dead guy who damaged their
reputation that they can’t do anything about.”

I palmed Johnny’s gun in my hand again, but
didn’t aim it this time.  “You need to leave,” I said. 
“Right now.  And don’t come back here, Mark.  If you’re
so worried that the FBI is trying to use you as a scapegoat for
Preston’s illegal actions, I’d suggest you go very far away and
think seriously about never coming back.”

“What will you do?” he asked.

“That’s none of your concern.”

Chapter 33

Datello waited until I told him it was safe
to come out. 

“Do you believe him?” he asked.

“I believed you when you warned me about
David.  I know the FBI is lying, but I don’t trust Seleeby
either.  How stupid does he think I am?  Why would the
FBI care about protecting Alfred Preston when they know he tried to
kill you?  And you’re still alive to shout it in the streets
if they try to pedal some revisionist history.”

Danny’s face drained of color.  “Unless
they don’t plan on protecting me after I testify against Uncle
Sully.”

“They’re not going to let you be
killed.  Maybe they just presume in your gratitude that you’ll
keep your mouth shut about Preston.  There’s a sort of logic
in looking at Seleeby, not that I think he had anything to do with
what Alfred Preston was up to.  It’s like he said.  The
man was just an unexpected ally.  I think we both know
why.”

“Preston, and whoever he really worked for
didn’t want you out here.  We already knew this because of the
private detectives that tried to abduct you in Washington.”

I rubbed my chin.  “I should’ve asked
Jerry Lowe why he tried to kill me twice.”

“Do you think he wasn’t involved in
that?”

“There are so many things about that whole
investigation that have nagged and bothered me since we allegedly
solved the crime.  Don’t get me wrong.  There’s no doubt
in my mind that Lowe killed your friend and a lot of other young
blonde girls.  But other things didn’t quite add up.”

“Like Kelly and Varden.”

I nodded.  “First we thought he wanted
me here to match wits.  And while I’m sure he was irritated
that Hardy and Weber brought me here, I think he does enjoy his
mind games too much to want me dead.  He drugged me and
collected blood samples.  Had he wanted to kill me, it
would’ve been extremely simple to do so at the time.”

“That explosion near my office building last
spring.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that was an attempt on my
life.  I presumed that Rogers and Daltry were simply following
Lowe’s orders, particularly since Matt Rogers was found dead in the
house that used to be where this one is.”

“Maybe somebody else knew as much about
Jerry Lowe and how he ran his detective squad as Lowe thinks he
knows about whoever is really pulling the strings behind the
curtain.”

“Kelly and Varden took a plea offered by
Zack Carpenter the second it was offered,” I said.  “No way
will they talk.  Whoever really hired them has a habit of
choosing men who would rather die than talk.  I suspect that
if Maya ever identifies Mr. Koehler, we’ll find that he would’ve
been another dead end too.”