Identity (47 page)

“Well, of course we’re related. I’ve been telling you that all along.”

“Sure you have, but you can’t imagine the things people tell me, Greta. I mean, the things they expect me to believe! It would blow your mind!”

“
I
certainly wasn’t lying, if that’s what you’re implying. The test proves that.”

“No, you weren’t, but I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t verify things independently.”

Greta didn’t respond. They’d reached an impasse, both annoyed with the other.

“So, can you give me Risa’s number?” Greta asked after another moment of awkward silence. “I’m anxious to speak with my niece.”

“And she’s anxious to speak with you, but she would prefer to meet in person.”

“Oh.”

Fina watched a bunch of teenagers horsing around in the parking lot. They were jumping onto one another’s backs and shoving one another playfully. They piled into a small rusty car and backed out of their space.

“You don’t sound pleased,” Fina said.

“I’m . . . I’m just surprised. I thought she’d want to speak on the phone first, get to know each other a bit before meeting in person.”

“Risa doesn’t see the point in delaying things. She’d like to meet and see how things go. If you two hit it off, then you can figure out the relationship moving forward.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then you don’t need to be in each other’s lives.”

“But we’re family. We have to be in each other’s lives.”

Fina swallowed some soda. “You haven’t been for the last forty-six years, and you’ve both managed okay.”

“Only because we didn’t know about each other. The idea that we would know and not have a relationship doesn’t make any sense.”

“Greta, I would caution you to proceed carefully. If you are needy or demanding, that might spook Risa.”

“I don’t understand.”

Fina sighed. “What was your expectation, exactly? What did you think would happen if—”

Greta made a sound of protest.

“Fine,” Fina continued, “
when
the test came back a match?”

A timer dinged in the background. “I need to put the phone down a minute. I need to take something out of the oven.”

“Go ahead.” Fina heard banging and rustling in the background. She was still hungry, but going through the drive-thru a second time seemed sad, even for her.

“I’m back. I didn’t want my blueberry buckle to burn. Now, what was the question?”

“What was your expectation regarding the outcome of the DNA test? What did you think would happen?” This was like déjà vu.

“I assumed Risa and I would be in touch on the phone and get to know each other better. Before too long, we’d meet and establish a real relationship, as aunts and nieces do.”

Clearly, Greta had a limited view of the aunt-niece relationship. She probably couldn’t imagine pulling her niece out of a nightclub, having her puke at her feet, or uncovering her job as an escort. True, these weren’t typical aunt-niece interactions, but they had happened. Fina didn’t want to give Greta apoplexy, so she chose not to share.

“Well, Risa would like to meet in person,” Fina reiterated.

“That’s fine, I suppose.”

“It’s going to have to be, Greta. Risa is interested in exploring this relationship, but she wants to do it on her terms.”

Greta sniffed. “I don’t see why my preferences shouldn’t count.”

Fina massaged her temple gently and closed her eyes. This woman was a pain in the ass. “They do, but a meeting is what Risa is offering. Take it or leave it. It’s your choice.”

“Fine. I need to look at my calendar and will call you back.”

“Greta, I have to ask you again; you were so anxious to get this test done, but you’ve been dragging your feet. What gives?”

“Nothing. Nothing gives.”

Fina unpeeled a damp napkin from around her sweating drink and dropped it into the center console. “Okay. Why don’t you give me a
call once you’ve checked your schedule?” Honestly, what would she have to check? That she didn’t have a quilting bee to attend or a porch to sweep?

“I’ll be in touch, Fina. Thank you for calling.” Greta ended the call, and Fina was left holding the phone.

Was this just nerves? Anxiety about meeting a long-lost family member? Fina didn’t doubt that the whole endeavor was stressful, but Greta needed to put on her big-girl pants and get a grip.

•   •   •

“Oww! That hurts!” Fina lay facedown on Milloy’s portable massage table. He moved his hands down her back and focused on a different spot.

“That’s better,” she said.

“So any update on the guy who did this?”

“His name is Denny Calder,” Fina said from the face cradle. “He’s not talking, and last I heard, they hadn’t uncovered anything useful.”

“That’s frustrating,” Milloy said, kneading her flesh.

Milloy was one of the few people Fina knew who could identify a thought or feeling and sit with it. Unlike her, he wasn’t constantly trying to banish discomfort or pain. He acknowledged it, let it play out, and moved on when the time was right. It was extremely Zen, and sometimes annoying.

“It
is
frustrating,” Fina agreed.

“You’re all set,” he said after a moment. Fina pulled the sheet around her and walked into the bedroom. She emerged a few minutes later wearing a T-shirt and sweats. The massage table was folded, leaning against the wall, and Milloy emerged from the kitchen, his hands just washed.

“I never thanked you for yesterday,” Fina said, plopping down on the couch.

“For?” He joined her.

“Saving my ass.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I really appreciate it, Milloy. It wasn’t going well from my perspective.”

“I kind of noticed.” He grinned. “I know you don’t like people fussing or worrying, but one of these days . . .”

“Actually, I don’t mind if you fuss a little.” She adjusted her position on the couch. “Finish your thought: One of these days . . .”

“One of these days, I won’t be around, Cristian won’t be, either, you won’t be able to reach your gun, or you’ll just be outmatched. You could end up seriously hurt.”

“I know. The thought has occurred to me.” Fina picked at the nail polish on one of her toenails. Haley had convinced her to paint them bright orange a couple of weeks before, and now they just looked like the late stages of a skin disease.

“And?” he asked.

“And that’s it. I hadn’t gotten any further than the thought itself.”

“Well, that’s something, at least.” He stretched his arms along the back of the couch. Milloy’s arms were nicely muscled. They looked like they could take care of things and people. “What’s on the menu, little lady?”

“Hmm. Thai, Greek, Chinese, Italian, or Ben and Jerry’s?”

“Thai sounds good.”

They ordered and settled down to watch an episode of a show where first dates took place in unconventional locations, like night court and sunrise boot camp workouts.

“Maybe arranged marriage isn’t such a bad idea,” Fina said, watching a couple attempt to flirt between arraignments.

“Really? So you want Carl and Elaine to choose your spouse?”

“Good point. I’d rather marry one of the accused,” she said, pointing at the men in orange jumpsuits.

The doorbell rang, and Milloy answered while Fina fetched utensils
and plates from the kitchen. He placed the brown bag on the coffee table and handed her a manila envelope. “The concierge asked the delivery guy to bring it up.”

Fina looked at the envelope, her name neatly printed on the front. She tore it open and, with a hint of dread, pulled out the contents.

Photographs. Of Haley.

Fina sank down onto the couch, the photos hanging loosely from her hand.

She’d lost her appetite.

•   •   •

Fina’s first instinct was to hop in her car and drive to Scotty’s, but Milloy reminded her there wasn’t much she could do at that moment. Instead, she called her brother with much trepidation.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Eh, not so great, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

“What’s up?”

“So I assumed—or, more accurately, was hoping—that the guy who jumped me was also responsible for the photos of Haley.”

“Yeah, I was hoping the same thing.”

“Well, he’s still in jail, and I just got more photos.”

“Dammit.”

“I know.”

“Do you think whoever hired him to jump you could still be sending you the pictures?”

“Maybe. Or someone else is sending the pictures.”

“So that means two people are after you.”

“I don’t know. I’m doing my best to figure it out, but I think we need to get some protection for Haley.”

“Fina, she’s gonna hate that.”

“I know, but what else can we do?”

“Have you talked to the cops about it?”

“Not about the most recent photos, but I know what Cristian is going to say; he’ll tell me to file a report and do what I think is best in terms of protection.”

“Great.”

“Look, I’m going to make some calls and arrange for a guard.”

“More unwanted attention; just what she needs.”

“I know, but she doesn’t have a choice. I’ll hire a woman, someone who won’t be too conspicuous.”

“There are female bodyguards?”

“Of course there are female bodyguards. I have a contact who worked a detail for the royal family of Saudi Arabia. They don’t want Western men guarding their women.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Can you or Patty talk to the school? I don’t think the guard needs to be in the classroom with her, just on the premises.”

“I’ll talk to them. This has to stop.”

“I know.”

“Does Dad know?”

“No, I’ll call him.”

“Do it now. He’s probably tired and has had some wine. He’ll be mellower.”

“He hasn’t been mellow a day in his life.”

“Well, it’s better than him being energized, which he will be after his workout tomorrow morning.”

“Good point. I’ll be in touch.”

Fina hung up and looked at Milloy. He’d cleaned up the takeout leftovers while she’d been on the phone.

“Here,” he said, handing her a bar of Swiss milk chocolate. “I found it in the cabinet. You need to eat something.”

“Thanks.” Fina opened the package and peeled back the foil. She broke off a square and put it in her mouth. “You don’t need to stay, you know. I have to call my dad and Cristian. I don’t think I’m going to be very good company.”

“Is it safe for you to be on your own? I know the photos show Haley, but the threat is directed at you, too.”

“I’m not that worried about my safety. I have good locks and a gun.”

“I don’t mind staying.” Milloy flopped down on the sofa and switched the TV to a baseball game. He turned the volume down low as Fina picked up her phone, walking over to the expanse of windows that overlooked the harbor. The runway lights at Logan twinkled in the dark, and the outline of a tanker was visible on the water.

First, Fina left a message for Cristian, making no attempt to hide her distress at the situation and her inability to reach him. Then she called Dennis Kozlowski, a PI with whom she occasionally worked who was plugged in to the investigative community in the city. He promised to send a man over to Scotty’s right away who would be replaced by a woman in time for school the next morning. Twenty-four-hour protection carried a high price tag, yet another incentive to get things resolved quickly.

Carl answered the phone after two rings.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve hired some temporary protection for Haley.”

“Why?” he asked sharply.

“Because there’s been a threat to her safety. I thought it was handled, but it’s not, and we need to take care of it.”

“We? You want me to pay for this?”

“Yes, you. First of all because the threat is a direct result of the Reardon case, and second of all, because you’re her grandfather.”

Carl didn’t answer.

“Dad? Are you still there?” A faint cheer erupted from the screen behind her. “It’s just temporary. I’ll have this thing wrapped up soon.”

“You still think that you’re better for her than her father?”

Fina gaped. Blood rushed to her head, and she blinked back tears of anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m trying to keep her safe!”

Milloy looked up from his place on the couch.

“She wouldn’t be in danger if not for you!” Carl yelled.

“This is not my fault! Sometimes our work is dangerous!”

“So now it’s
our
work? Now you’re all about the family?”

Fina leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and took the phone away from her ear. She could hear Carl still yelling. She depressed the end button and disconnected the call.

“Did you just hang up on Carl?” Milloy asked.

“Yes.”

“Wow,” Milloy said softly.

Fina walked over to the couch and lay down, her feet in Milloy’s lap. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing but the balls and strikes being counted on the TV.

The next morning, Fina woke up pissed.

She was far from perfect, but every day she tried to work in her family’s best interests, particularly those of the youngest family members. For her father to suggest otherwise was untrue and just plain mean.