Forgotten Place (30 page)

Below the file filled with
pages of numbers, I found more newspaper clippings.  They all
related to Datello in some way, all marked with the same
code
EX2012.
 
I returned to the pages of fading numbers.  Each page ended
with the same designation. 
EX2012. 
Example? 
Extradition.  Extortion.  Previous.  An address
perhaps?

"Johnny?"

He didn't stir.  I
moved closer and watched him sleeping.  Had I ever done that
before?  It seemed like our time together had been a finite
blink of the eye.  His condemnation of my behavior hit hard
again.  I
was
selfish.  Too wrapped up in my own mess to notice what
anyone else might be feeling. 

I crouched beside the bench seating and
watched the slow, regular rise and fall of his chest.  His
eyes danced beneath reddish purple lids.  Dark circles
punctuated the soft depressions above his sculpted cheek
bones.  He looked exhausted.  Was it just work?  How
much had his battle with me over something as ridiculous as eating
regularly contributed to the fatigue?

"Johnny," I spoke softly.

"Mmm," he smacked his lips.  "What is
it, baby?"

The pain that seized in my chest last night
returned.  Johnny was dreaming.  Was it about the
mysterious woman he alluded to?  It had to be.  My hand
hovered over his hair, fingers itched to run through it like I had
the brief right to do at one time.  It fell away. 

Those days were over.  I didn't know
how I felt about that.  Honestly, I didn't want to know how I
felt about it.  All thoughts of Johnny Orion of late had taken
me to a dark and confusing place that not only was unpleasant, it
hurt like hell. 

I glanced at my watch, still on Pacific
time.  It was already one o'clock.  We'd be landing soon
anyway.  I brushed his shoulder lightly.  "Johnny, wake
up.  We'll be landing in Washington soon."

His eyes popped open.  He stared at me
without a hint of disorientation.  Neat trick.  He'd have
to tell me how he did that someday.

"You fell asleep," I said.

Johnny pulled himself up with astounding
grace for a man his size.  He stretched his arms overhead and
groaned.  "Are you all right?  Did you eat anything?"

I shook my head.  "Lost track of time
in the last box of Ireland's stuff."

He curled his hands into fists and rubbed
his eyes.  "We've got lunch in the galley.  I'll go get
something.  We should eat before we land."

One hand rested on his knee before I
spoke.  "You're exhausted.  I'm sorry that all of this
has taken a toll on you, Johnny."

"Don't be ridiculous.  I'm fine."

"I'm trying to say thank you."

"Oh."

"This is a far cry from being at a hundred
percent, but I feel like I'll get there again, and I don't think
that would've happened if you hadn't... insisted," I said. 
"I'd apologize for being stubborn and resisting what you were
trying to do, but I think we'd both know –"

"Doc, it's all right.  I expected a
battle on my hands.  It's who you are.  The thing is
this.  I can out-stubborn you every step of the way if that's
what I have to do to get your attention.  Most of the time, I
sort of enjoy the fight.  Not this time.  This was
serious."

"I know.  I'm done fighting it." 
The urge to cry tightened and burned in my throat.  Instead of
caving to it, I thrust out my right hand.  "Friends
again?"

His eyes were veiled beneath a thick fringe
of dark blond lashes.  "Sure, Doc.  Friends."

"I'll get lunch.  I went through most
of the last box of papers while you were sleeping, and I keep
finding this odd reference that Ireland wrote on some of the
newspaper clippings.  But today was the first time I saw it on
something else."

Johnny followed me into the galley and
helped me pull sandwiches, chips, fruit and iced tea from the
storage compartment.  "What reference?"

"It's two letters and four numbers,
EX2012.  I have no idea what it means.  The other day, I
checked it against that key code Zack faxed over, the one that
helped us makes sense of his legal pads.  This one appeared
nowhere.  The first time I saw it was on a clipping of Antonio
Datello's obituary."

"So perhaps it relates to Datello, eh?"

"I was thinking a date, a case file
reference... but nothing matches.  It got me wondering about
addresses."

"Logical, but Datello and Marcos probably
own more property than Coldwell Banker lists in a year."

"I want you to take a look at some of these
printed pages, Johnny.  Maybe on our way home.  They look
like the self-test a printer runs when it starts, except for the
very last notation on the page."

"EX2012?"

We moved to the table with lunch and started
eating.  "It could be gibberish.  Maybe this was the red
herring Ireland left behind in case someone started going through
his paperwork," I said.

"I don't think so, Doc.  The style is
the different than the other references he used in his notes, but
that just tells me he was being particularly careful about what
evidence he had.  I suspect that it either points to a file we
haven't found yet, or perhaps the one that turned him onto whatever
dirt he found against Datello in the first place."

"What case could've opened his eyes to
Danny's illegal activities?" I wondered. 

"That is an excellent question.  I
don't think anyone has bothered to ask it before.  How much do
you remember about the notes you and Ned reviewed the other
night?"

The truth was, I had paid
less attention to the substance of the cases, instead matching them
to his assigned work load before moving to the next notebook. 
It allowed more time to brood over Johnny's abandonment for
other
things
.

"What's that look about?" he mumbled around
an orange slice.

"Trying to remember all of the stuff we
reviewed.  He had a lot of irons in the fire as I recall."

"I'll call Ned when we land.  He spent
more time on all of that work stuff than all of us combined
anyhow.  Are you nervous about this meeting with Levine?"

Was I?  "I haven't thought about it
much."

"It seemed like a bizarre way to get you to
come out east for a visit.  I won't lie, Helen.  His
tactics concern me."

"I trust him."

"Yeah, obviously."

Before we could continue to debate the
trustworthiness of my mentor, the co-pilot appeared and asked us to
prepare for landing.  What little time remained before we met
David would be spent pondering Johnny's paranoia.  Then again,
normal minded folks did get a little antsy when federal law
enforcement officers wanted a face to face chat.  I couldn't
look at David that way, no matter how much of a threat he really
posed to my freedom.

After the flight landed, Johnny rented a car
at the airport and tossed the keys to me.  "This place makes
no sense to me.  Since it's home for you, I figured I'd turn
over chauffeur detail just this once."

The first thing I did was call David's
personal cell phone.  "Are you still at Quantico?"

"On my way home.  Give me an hour or
so, and I'll call with the meeting place."

"David, you're being very cloak and dagger
about all of this.  What's really going on?"

"I've been informed that if I share
anything, my job is on the line."

My heart decided that now was a good time to
enter the aerobic exercise phase.  I swallowed the hard knot
that materialized in the back of my throat.  "Does such a
secure location exist in this town?"

"Swapping out the car and the phone in a
few.  Talk to you then."

I clicked off and glanced at Johnny.

"That didn't sound good."

"David says his job is on the line if anyone
finds out he talked to me, Johnny.  You don't suppose they
already know I've come back to town, do you?"

"It's Joe's jet, and there's no passenger
list, Doc.  If we had flown a commercial flight, sure they
could know you're here.  My concern remains the same."

"David wouldn't lie to me."

"So what do we do in the meantime, while we
wait for David to get his ducks in a row with this secret, secure
meeting place?"

"I guess we go to the one place I doubt
anybody would expect to find me," I said.  "My house in
Georgetown."

My mind remembered the city as I drove on
autopilot and navigated the heavy rush hour traffic in the capital
from Reagan to Georgetown.  I circled the neighborhood three
times, taking note of vehicles that seemed out of place on the
sleepy street.

"Satisfied that no one is watching or that
we weren't followed?" Johnny asked on the third rotation.

"I'm using the alley," I said.  "It
goes directly to the courtyard behind the brownstone.  There's
a gate.  The car should be narrow enough to pass
through.  There's an old carport that we converted into an
arbor with trellis and whatnot.  We can park under it, and the
car won't be visible should anyone be looking from above."

"Geez, Doc.  Did I make you
paranoid?  I don't see any Blackhawks lighting up the night
sky."

"Satellites," I said.  "Never
underestimate the tools the government has at its disposal. 
If this is serious enough for David to be paranoid, you're
right.  I should take heed of that and exercise caution. 
There's the gate.  The key is on the keychain in my
purse."

Johnny tugged the gate open, and within
minutes, we were standing in the frigid mudroom of my
brownstone.  I shivered.

"I suppose using the lights or starting a
fire would be a bad idea," he said.

"The thermostat is in the hallway. 
Give me your cigarette lighter."

The tiny flame illuminated inches in front
of my face, not that I needed it.  I knew every inch of this
brownstone even in pitch darkness.  The light helped him see
to follow, and let me adjust the thermostat so the temperature
would rise higher than fifty degrees.

"We should stay away from exterior rooms
with windows," I said.  At the front door, I slid open a deep
drawer in the long table that used to hold house keys, leather
gloves and the purse I habitually dropped on its surface when
walking through the door every night.  I procured a slim
flashlight.  "Upstairs.  There's an interior room that
won't betray our presence.  It'll warm up faster on the second
floor anyway.  Can you make it up without the light?"

"I'll manage."

The second floor consisted of four large
bedrooms connected by a hallway.  In the center of the
structure stood the single bathroom shared by the bedrooms. 
It wasn't particularly large, but it provided the privacy we
needed.  I flicked on the flashlight and closed the door
behind Johnny.  Next stop was the large black vent on one wall
of the bathroom.  I adjusted the clasp, and a blast of warm
air rushed into the room.

"You're still shivering."

"I forgot how cold snow is."

Johnny reached out and rubbed a few strands
of my hair together, melting the snow clumps that had become
trapped on the way from the car to the house.  "Whatever is
happening, we'll get through it.  You know that, Helen,
right?"

My teeth chattered.

"C'mere."  Johnny tugged me by the hand
and sat on the bench seat that lined one of the bathroom
walls.  He pulled me down between his thighs, opened his coat
and wrapped it around both of us.  "Better?"

"Yeah," but the shivering didn't stop. 
Johnny's arms tightened around me.

We didn't speak for a long time, until the
silent spell was shattered by Johnny's ringing cell phone.

Chapter 27

David spoke quickly.  "Meet me at the
Jefferson Memorial in forty-five minutes."

"David, it's freezing outside."

"We won't be outside for long.  If
you've ever trusted me before, you must do so now, Helen. 
Meet me there in forty-five minutes.  You must come
alone."

His instructions confused me.  The
Jefferson Memorial, while possessing an interior in the strictest
sense that its domed roof covered the interior, was by no means an
indoor type of enclosure. 

I pressed the phone back into Johnny's
gloved hand.  "I don't think we should go."

"
Now
you get a bad vibe about
this?"

"I'm serious.  Something is very
wrong."

"Because he wants to meet outdoors in the
bitter cold?"

"Because we're supposed to meet him at the
Jefferson Memorial.  He said we won't be outside for
long.  It's not an enclosed building, Johnny.  He plans
to take us somewhere else from there."

"Or he could mean that we'll be talking
inside his toasty warm car.  Come on.  We came all this
way and you didn't doubt his sincerity.  Why now?"

"Because David has never told me that I must
trust him before.  Not once.  Not ever.  Not even
when Seleeby was dogging my every move in Darkwater Bay."

"So that means you can't trust him
now?  You're not making any sense, sweetheart.  Either
you trust him or you don't.  This is jitters, nerves you've
severed all the way out here catching up to you."

"He wants me to come alone, Johnny."

"That's not going to happen.  You've
met his terms in every other regard, dropping everything and
jetting out here on a moment's notice without any idea why he's
pulling such a cloak and dagger routine.  He'll have to accept
the fact that I'm not letting you go anywhere without someone I
know will look out for your best interests."

"What if this means he knows I'm not alone,
Johnny?"  The knot reappeared in my throat and wouldn't budge
this time.