Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde (32 page)

TWENTY-TWO

I
had a few restless nights when I should have been sleeping soundly after the somewhat successful resolution of the past six weeks’ events. My conscious was bothered though by the moral compromises I’d made, even though the list of pluses far exceeded the negatives in the final outcome. I could have done the dime novel tough guy thing and kept it inside, drinking myself into a near coma in a vain attempt to make myself forget. Instead I decided that it might help to talk to someone.  I figured it should be someone who I was close to yet had been kept insulated from the entire situation.

That person was my father. Yes, I’d often privately scoffed at his transformation into the “touchy feely” type of person, but today I was glad he did. I found him out behind his house chopping wood for winter and despite the chilling fall temperatures we sat out on his patio drinking beer. I told him everything that had happened recently leaving out a few sordid details like sleeping with Diane that I didn’t think he needed to really know. My Dad was a pretty astute guy and I’m sure he figured that out on his own even if he didn’t specifically ask the question.

“That’s a pretty incredible story,” he said. “Want another beer?”

“Sure,” I replied crushing my can and tossing it into his recycle can across the patio.

He handed me a fresh can from his generic white foam cooler. “Surprised you’d drink my Budweiser.”

“I’ve drank my fair share of Bud through the years,” I replied.

“Usually you’ve got the expensive stuff in your refrigerator,” he noted.

“Sam Adams is not the expensive stuff, Dad.”

He just nodded and we shared a moment of silence as he processed everything I’d told him.

“So in the end, everyone but this Diane woman got what they deserved?” he asked.

“Everyone living. Morley gets to die a hero while all along he was Karen’s killer.”

“As I told you from the time you were a little boy, Ronan, life isn’t always fair,” Dad said. “If you believe in the almighty however, the afterlife may be the fairest place of all.”

“You mean he’s burning in Hell?”

“I’d say that would be his just reward but it’s not my judgment to make.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I replied.

“If you went to church a little more often then perhaps you would have. I suppose today’s not the time to lecture you about that though.”

I was way too old to be chastised by my father for not going to Mass regularly but he right on that topic. I was one of those Catholics I had mocked in my younger days; the kind who typically only went to church on Christmas and Easter. Somewhere on each of those holidays, there were people talking about me in the same derogatory terms I had once used.

“So what does it hurt for his family to think this detective died a hero?” Dad asked.  “I doubt they knew what he was up to.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I’m just sorry I didn’t piece it together sooner. I might have been able to prevent a few of these other deaths.”

He put his hand on my shoulder. “You did the best you could and have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“Thanks, but I still have regrets. I mean how could I have been so blind about Karen’s side job?”

“None of us are perfect,” he noted.

“That’s for damn sure,” I replied solemnly. “What’s it say about me when I break my own moral code without a fight?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. You did it all for the good of others,” he replied. “What you did was something to be proud of.” 

He finished his beer and popped open another. The foam drizzled from the top of the can and dripped down the side. He wiped it on his plaid jacket and took a deep breath.

“I also think you learned more about who you really are and a few valuable life lessons as well,” he added.

“Well, maybe but things still doesn’t feel right. To be honest, everything has felt out of balance since I left the Air Force. I wake up some days and I almost feel lost without a real purpose in life.”

“The military was where you felt you belonged and excelled. You winning the lottery was a life changing event and now you have to search for your new place in the world.”

“You mean now that I don’t really have to work?”

“You do have to work, Ronan,” he said. “You just have to find the right work that suits your current situation. Men like you will never be satisfied just sitting around watching the world go by. Despite all your money you should seriously consider putting a uniform back on and doing the things you’re best at.”

He was to right to some extent; the part about me having to work in one capacity or another. I needed to find something worthwhile to do with my life and just playing in my mediocre band and whittling away the hours watching Sportscenter wouldn’t cut it. The problem was I was struggling with what my life should be from this point on. Finding the right woman to share it with would be a great first step and as I’ve noted repeatedly, I’ve been a miserable failure in that department.               

****

I spent the next couple of days reflecting on what my father had said. As I often do with complicated situations, I ran through my future options which ran the gamut from doing nothing to the near unthinkable; giving most of my money away and seeing if I could get back into the Air Force. I hadn’t been close to reaching an answer, so I decided to take a ride out to the cemetery where Karen had been laid to rest. I didn’t expect to find an answer there but since I had never really said goodbye to her, I felt like this might be the right time.

On one knee, I touched the face of her polished granite stone, feeling each letter of her name with my finger. I couldn’t help to think that if she had only come and told me about her problems, I could have prevented her murder.

It hurt some but in time the pain would subside. At least I was able to take some solace knowing I’d helped Cassie out of her mess and exposed a few dirty cops along the way. I sat on the cold hard ground and looked up in the sky, thinking about where I might be right now if I had never stopped and bought that lucky lottery ticket.

At that moment, like a scene from some overwrought summer romance movie, the clouds parted and the sun streamed through. It was as if God himself was leading me to the answers I had struggled for with a sign. I watched the sunbeams move across the landscape with the clouds when it happened; I had
the
epiphany on what I should do with my life. Even though I was rich beyond my dreams, it didn’t mean I could sit back and get fat and lazy, I needed to be back in the game I was best at.

Joining a police department wouldn’t work; I’d be handcuffed by politics and hampered by procedures. While there are mavericks out there like Shea, guys like him are few and far between and I’d end up fired in no time at all. Not needing the paycheck to make my bills, my mouth wouldn’t be as restrained as it had been in the past.

As the plights of Karen and Cassie had shown me, the world is full of people in trouble with no real place to turn. There are thousands of generally good people like them who find themselves backed into a corner. Most private investigators only follow adulterous spouses and take pictures of guys claiming workman’s compensation mowing their lawn. They charge ridiculously high rates and some take advantage of the vulnerable in need of real help. I wanted to be different from them and make a difference in people’s lives.

I had no intentions of becoming a vigilante but in Karen’s memory, I could do a lot of good. Spiderman’s Uncle Ben once told him that with great power comes great responsibility. Back here in the real world, as a boy my father taught me to stand up for what was right and for those too weak to stand up for themselves. I’d done that most of my life and after a short break; it was time to start again. It seemed like that was my rightful place in the big scheme of things.

Finding Karen’s killer had almost cost me my own life and a substantial body count accumulated. Future cases should be easier but there were no guarantees. The planet was chock full of assholes and I was heading back into the place where most of them lived. I made a mental note to order some new body armor and prayed I’d never need it again.

* * * *

So here I was, five months after I’d found a new direction in my life listening to a guy I had no real interest in working for. I’d done a lot of good in the short time I’d been at this gig and was proud of my work.

Unfortunately, there were still unresolved issues from Karen’s death that might never go away. LaValle had easily won the election and headed off to Washington in his quest for family values and Duffy Fitzpatrick had a senator in his back pocket. By now LaValle had most likely found another girlfriend to nail on the side. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of willing young woman looking for a career in politics and bedding a senator was hitting the jackpot.

Tony was dating Cassie on an informal basis since the day she came back from Maine. Hell, who was I kidding? They’d turned into fuck buddies, but at least she’d started school to learn to become a webmaster. Her first project was a porn website featuring all her old pictures and videos. She was still selling her body but at least now it was on the Internet and on her own terms. She’d also started doing some stained glass artwork and had completed a rehab group for her cocaine addiction. Last time we spoke she claimed to be clean and sober and I had no reason to doubt her.

I’d run into Diane once at a Bruins’ game with some older guy I didn’t recognize wearing a thousand-dollar suit. She definitely saw me because I waved and she moved her head quickly away not waiving back. She was no longer working for LaValle and I figured maybe Duffy had something to do with it. I still had the DVD in a safe place ready to hold over her head if need be.

Karen’s younger sister Sara was doing well in school and in spite of her sister’s death made the Dean’s list for the fall semester. I checked in on her from time to time just to make sure she and her mother were doing okay. I even had dinner over at their house one night and I think it gave me some additional measure of closure on Karen.

I’d also kept my promise to Garcia and we spent a lot of time together, mostly just talking about old cases, war stories, discussing the tricks of the trade and drinking beer. More importantly, we became good friends who could always count on each other.

Nothing much had changed for my brother Marc. For all of LaValle’s talk of him going places if he won the senate seat, he was still up there in sleepy-town U.S.A. instructing his guys to write speeding tickets because town revenues were down. The poor guy continued to live his life vicariously through me, so every now and then I’d taken him along on a case when it wouldn’t interfere with looking for a selectman’s lost dog.

The Jefferies Tubes continued to play a few gigs a month with me at the helm. At first it was a little tough to play at Max’s place for me but after the first couple of gigs there, I’d been okay. The band had gotten a bit tighter musically but we were still nothing short of mediocre. I’d accepted the fact you can’t have everything you want in spite of all the money I had coming to me.

John-Bob-Fred finished his story, most of which I’d missed in a daydream, and waited for a response.

“So, Mr. Marino, how much do you charge?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. Unfortunately, we won’t be doing business.”

He looked shocked. I’m sure most people were eager to exchange money with him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t do adultery cases, especially for people who can afford to hire some overweight gumshoe that enjoys peeping in on people screwing in a hotel room.”

“But I heard you were the best.”

“I am; the best that money can’t buy. Now run along and check the yellow pages. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can meet your needs elsewhere.”

He shook his head in disbelief and stood.

“You, sir, are an arrogant jerk,” he whined and walked away.

He stopped a short distance down the path and turned to look back. From the expression on his face, I think may have I hurt his feelings. I gave him a little hand motion to shoo and felt like an asshole for about two seconds. It was close to three o’clock and I had a very important person to meet.

Remember the little promise I’d made to myself, the one about not dating strippers, models, etc.; the same one I’d made about one hundred and fifty-seven times before? So far I’d manage to keep it and had been steadily dating a woman who was easily the best thing that had happened to me in a long, long time. Her name was Katrina, Katrina Sadolovaki.

I left the Doubletree and walked down toward the small covered footbridge that crosses the canal. Off to my right, the Concord River made its final run feeding into the Merrimack. Someone once told me that the best white water rafting in the valley can be found right in the middle of downtown Lowell at that very spot.

I spotted Katrina on the other side of the bridge, wearing black jeans and a tight white blouse, her long black hair draped over her shoulders.

“Hi gorgeous,” I said and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

“Beautiful day,” she said. “Feel like going for a walk?”