Beneath the Cracks (26 page)

"I still agree that this case is gonna get
too high profile way too quick," Tony said.  "And uh…I have it
on high authority that the commander in question left town last
night."

"
What
?  Why?  Where did he
go?"

Tony grinned.  "Guess you should've
opened the door and found out, Eriksson.  Anyway, Darnell is
gonna be over for a status update any minute.  I'd suggest we
have our ducks in a row before he yanks this thing outta our hands
all together."

"Until we know for sure that there's
something illegal, or linked to the deaths, we won't need OSI
helping watch that farm," I said.  "Jurisdictional concerns
won't come into play unless we see a crime happening there. 
The investigation only links to Dupree Farm, but the case is in
Downey's back yard.  I suggest we keep it that way.  For
now."

Shelly waved her small Arabic coffee
pot.  "Out.  Now.  If I don't have some brew before
Commander Darnell arrives, I may not have the fortitude to win the
battle you've asked me to wage."

I followed Briscoe out into the squad
room.  "All right, Tony.  What's really going on with
Johnny?  Is he really lurking around following me to make sure
I'm not misbehaving in his twisted view of things?"

"Helen, I ain't gettin' in the middle of
this.  All I know is that he said he was goin' outta town for
a few days and that he'd talk to you and explain why he left."

"Well, he didn't explain anything."

"Could it be that you wouldn't open the door
to listen?"

"Don't you give me that look," I
grumbled.  "You were the one who helped me get out of here
last night before he had the chance to chew my ass in public."

"Which you just had to tell him," Briscoe
poked a finger in my face.  "And thanks a lot for that,
Helen."

"I never told him that!"

"Oh, you didn't insinuate that I knew what
you were up to last night?  I don't appreciate the riot act
from a pup I taught how to do this job."

"I'm sorry, Tony.  That wasn't what I
said to him, not what I meant anyway.  I was only stressing
the point that I won't be the one talking to him about this case
anymore.  Or probably anything else."

"Don't go bein' hasty," came the gruff
advice.  "I never saw Johnny this wrapped up in worry before
in my life, Helen.  He might've overreacted last night, but
his heart was in the right place."

"So scaling my wall was a bit out of line,
eh?"

"He was pretty pissed off that you slipped
away before he got to make sure you were all right.  I surely
wish the two of you would talk.  This whole thing is gettin'
blown entirely out of proportion."

"Where's Crevan?"

"Huh?"

"Your partner.  Where is he? 
Darnell just walked into Shelly's office."

"Shit," Briscoe muttered.  "Why do I
have the distinct impression that this ain't gonna be a bit
pleasant?"

"Because you're a very wise man, Tony
Briscoe."

After the shouting match between Lieutenant
Finkelstein and Commander Darnell ended with his stern warning to
me that I owed both Downey and OSI more than the
shenanigans
I pulled on Wednesday, Darnell left Downey Division.

Crevan conveniently showed up after the
fireworks ended.  He gripped my arm and steered me way from
his partner and our boss.  "We need to talk."

"Where the hell were you?  We could've
used your help in there with Darnell, Crevan."

"A thing with Belle.  Tony must've
forgotten that we were meeting with the mediator this
morning.  Johnny called."

I rolled my eyes.  "Whatever he's doing
is none of my business, Crevan.  Our short lived truce is
over, and I don't want to talk about him again."

"He wouldn't tell me where he was going,
Helen."

"So?"

"Aren't you worried that he's doing
something about Datello?"

"Unlike Johnny, I have faith in
his
ability to take care of himself without my interference.  I
can't worry about anything right now beyond catching Denton in the
act of hiring more homeless men.  You really missed a lot of
ground in the debriefing with Darnell this morning."

"You guys can fill me in."

I gripped his arm.  "Hey."

"What," muttered.

"How did mediation go?"

"She laid out her terms."

"And?"

Crevan shrugged.

"What's she holding over you, Crevan? 
Don't tell me that a quick divorce is more important to you than
anything else.  I can see the misery written all over your
face.  Tony said she was the one who filed anyway, so why
would a quick divorce be your idea?"

"Why don't you keep your powers of
perception pointed at the case," he snapped.  "If your
personal life is off limits, so is mine."

"I didn't mean it that way, Crevan.  I
like you, all right?  Maybe I don't enjoy seeing you mope
around like the world could end in the next five minutes."

He recoiled from my light touch to the
arm.  "Like me…as in the way you liked Johnny until last
night?"

I laughed.  "Don't look so panic
stricken, Crevan.  I wasn't hitting on you."

"Are you sure?"

The level of revulsion in his eyes…there's
rejection and then there's flat out disgust.  I've had my
share of the former, but this?  "Oh my God.  That's it,
isn't it?  That's what she's holding over your head."  My
fingers pinched into a surprisingly thick bicep underneath a suit
that evidently hid exactly how much time Crevan spent at the
gym.  I dragged him out of the squad room.

"Tell me," I said.

"Tell you what?  There's nothing to
tell.  Sometimes marriages end."

"Yeah.  Like I don't already know
that.  Mine ended after my ex-husband was arrested for
laundering money for the mob."  What possessed me to admit
that little nugget went beyond reason.  "Do you think that's
something I'm eager for the world to know?  Crack profiler
spent so little time with her spouse that she had no idea that a
pretty big organized crime boss was using her husband to cleanse
his ill-gotten gains."

"Helen!  Does Johnny know that?"

"That and a bunch of other stuff I should've
never divulged."  I nudged his ribs with my elbow.  "How
long has she been threatening to open the closet door."

"
What
?"

"Oh, c'mon Crevan.  I'm stunned that I
didn't realize it before this morning.  I realize I'm not
every man's cuppa, but you were the first one who looked like he
might hurl at the thought of having sex with me.  How long has
she known you're gay?"

"I'm
not
," he rasped.

I could smell his abject terror, the deep
seeded panic that someone else might know something he wanted
hidden.  Oddly, it was too familiar to me.  My heart
swelled with what I assumed must be pity.  "Oh, Crevan."

"Don't do that."

"Honey, there's nothing wrong with it. 
You do realize that science has proven it's biological.  You
were born that way, and no amount of trying will change what you
find attractive."

"I'm warning you, Helen, if you don't shut
up –"

"I won't say anything to anybody, but Tony's
right.  This is blackmail.  You can't let her get away
with it, Crevan."  Inspiration struck.  "We could have
some very high profile social contact off the job.  Let her
tell her lies when all of Darkwater Bay sees us dancing the night
away and sharing romantic dinners for two."

He took a quick step away from me. 
"Number one reason that comes to mind is that Johnny would kill
me."

"Pfft.  Ancient history," I waved it
aside.  "After the caveman repertoire last night, I realized
what a mistake he was."

"Helen, you don't mean that."

"Sure I do.  He caught me at a weak
moment.  Simple as that.  Alpha male is so not my
type.  So what do you say?"

"I say I'm not the only person around here
afflicted with a deep case of denial.  Shouldn't we be doing
something to close this case?"  His bizarre resistance to the
idea of even
fake
dating only cemented my theory.

"Yeah," I said.  "Let's get you to the
current chapter and verse."

Chapter 23

By mid-afternoon Friday, Denton hadn't shown
up at any shelter in the Darkwater Bay metro area, and I was
starting to panic.

Shelly came out of her office when the first
puffs of fog started forming outside the second floor windows at
Downey Division.  She was wearing her coat, the dark
al-amira
covering her ebony hair.  "I'm heading out,
troops.  Try to keep things down to a dull roar until sunset
tomorrow night, please."

Ah, Sabbath.  How criminals must wish
all cops were devout like Lieutenant Finkelstein.  I gave her
a sober salute and drummed my fingers on the top of the
desk. 

"Think we should go relieve the team
watching the Sixth Avenue Shelter yet?"

"For the hundredth time, we're goin' at
five," Tony said.  "Why don't you lay off the caffeine,
Eriksson? It's already after four."

"My point exactly.  Why can't we cut
them some slack and let them off a little early?"

"You're just worried that he'll show up
before we get there," Briscoe chuckled.  "Settle down
already.  The team watchin' his lab says he ain't even left
the farm yet."

Crevan's cell phone rang.  He glanced
at the screen and disappeared.

"That was either Belle's mediator or
Johnny," I drummed my fingers some more.  "You realize that,
don't you?"

"That he's been checkin' in with Crevan
since he jetted outta town?  Yeah, that much has been
obvious.  The real question is whether or not you've checked
your voice mail."

I hadn't.  In fact, it wasn't even in
the top twenty on the
to-do
list.  The volume had been
switched to vibrate, so I knew exactly the last time Orion tried to
call me.  The phone had been unusually motion free since early
Thursday morning.

Talking about it must've elicited the tickle
in my pocket.  I pulled it out for a discreet peek and
frowned.  Area code 202.  I slid my finger across the
glass screen and pressed the phone to my ear.  "David?"

"Hello to you too, my dear.  How goes
it in the land of perpetual gloom?"

I chuckled.  "Not even the weather
changes in this dreadful place.  What's up?"

"You tell me."

"I'm…working another case with the Darkwater
police."

"Hmm.  Darkwater, not their ultra
powerful OSI?"

I sat up straight.  "No, with Darkwater
Bay.  Why?  Why would you ask me that?"

"We received a request for your personnel
file Thursday morning, Helen.  It was made under the guise of
vetting you for service with OSI.  Are you sure there's not
something else going on here?"

"Darnell," I muttered under my breath.

"Ah, the commander in charge of the
governor's little side project in law enforcement.  Yes, the
request was accompanied by his signature."

"One of his undercover detectives was
murdered last weekend, David.  That's the case Downey Division
is working on.  It would seem the dear commander wants to make
sure they've got qualified personnel leading the charge."

"Mmm.  Not so sure about that, my
dear.  The request was for a bit more than your annual
evaluations and scores from the firing range."

"How much more?"

"He asked for the file that detailed how you
were vetted for employment with us ten years ago."

"Jesus Christ."  I leapt out of my seat
and started pacing.  "You didn't send it to him, did
you?  The whole thing, I mean."

"It's no secret that we thoroughly looked
into your history, Helen.  Is it?"

"Of course not, but OSI is a far cry from
the bureau, and I am not now, nor will ever at a future date work
for that branch of law enforcement.  Ever.  In any
capacity.  Got it?"

"Sorry, Helen.  I didn't find out that
the request was made until the file had already been sent.  It
seems we can't have it both ways."

"What does that mean?"

"If the governor out there has the juice to
get Seleeby revoked from his borders and banished to parts of the
world that legitimately use amounts of fertilizer best left to the
imagination, he also has the ability to pretty much get any
information he wants about you from our files."

"Oh this is bad.  This is so, so
bad."

"Why?  What is it that you think we
know about you that nobody out there should?"

My voice dipped to barely above a
whisper.  "Wendell."

"Your father?  Helen, that's no
secret.  It's a matter of public record.  What he did,
you were a child at the time.  Nobody –"

"You don't understand," I rasped.  "I
sort of led someone associated rather closely with OSI to believe
that he and Marie are both dead."

David sighed.  "And is that such a
stretch of the imagination?  Honestly, Helen, for all intents
and purposes, Wendell
has
been dead to you for almost twenty
years now.  I think that little nugget of truth is rather self
explanatory.  It isn't as though you've kept in contact with
him all this time."  He paused.  "Helen, you haven't
spoken to him in all these years, have you?"

"Of course not.  It's just that I…"

"You what?"

"I told a whopper this week – legitimately
in the course of the investigation – and OSI wasn't particularly
pleased with my tactics.  Although I don't know why anyone
bitched about it.  It's their detective that was murdered, and
my brass ones that pushed the case forward into a promising
direction."

"Oy vey.  You are a magnet for trouble,
aren't you my dear?  Some things never change."