Sins of the Father (24 page)

“No way. I’m not getting in the middle of
this. Let’s just leave it at what I said.”

“Devlin.”

“I know about the brownstone and your folks
house on Long Island,” he said softly. “How would any of us ever
feel right about you being forced to sell them just so Johnny can
afford to pay us the minimum of what we’d need to earn to stay
flush? C’mon, Helen. Experienced police detectives cost a hell of a
lot more than the security guards he employs already.”

I tried really hard to school the shock and
outrage Devlin’s confession elicited. I failed.

His eyes widened. “He didn’t tell you that
he talked to a realtor? Shit. I need to shut up.”

Blood boiled in my veins. Bile bubbled in
the back of my throat. “Make no mistake. If he’s trying to sell my
properties behind my back, it has nothing to do with needing a
quick infusion of cash for his business.”

“Really?”

“Oh come on, Devlin! You’re smarter than
this. He’s pissed off because I had somewhere
to
run when I
left Darkwater Bay. This is absolutely not about money. That fool!
Stupid man. I could afford to buy a hundred houses all over the
world and it wouldn’t make a dent in my financial situation.”

“Geez, Helen. I knew you had money, but I
didn’t know you were
that
loaded.”

“Tens of millions. And for the record, my
father had the money. Plus, he was one hell of an investor. Not
only that, when Rick died, he hadn’t changed the beneficiary on his
life insurance policy from when we took them out just after we got
married. That was another two million.”

“Holy crap. Maybe I should be asking you for
a job.”

He watched my expression change. Hell, I
felt it.

“Helen, that was a
joke
.”

“It might’ve been, but it was also a
brilliant idea. One that my allegedly intelligent husband never
thought of.”

“You don’t mean that.”

I jerked my leg out from under the table and
displayed my GPS companion. “Don’t I?”

“Jesus! Is that –”

“A house arrest anklet? Yes.”

His eyes darted nervously toward the
door.

“Calm down. He doesn’t care where I am, so
long as he knows. Tell me this, Devlin. Why was this the preferable
option in my husband’s mind rather than using one of his
employees
as a bodyguard for me? I’ll tell you why. It
wouldn’t have been humiliating enough.” I shook my head vehemently.
“This shit ends now. Whatever OSI is paying you, I’ll double it.
You can work for me. I’ll pay up front.”

Devlin nearly choked on his salad. “Are you
nuts? He’d kill the both of us! Besides, what would I do when
you’re no longer in danger?”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll finance some
competition for Johnny. You can run the show, your own
business.”

“No way, Helen.
No way
. It would be
suicide.”

“Then go to work for him and I’ll hire you
that way.”

Dev fell silent.

“What?”

“I think he’s already got the first
investigation planned, one that won’t bring a red cent into his
agency, I might add.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not supposed to know about it.”

“Devlin Mackenzie, have you been spending
all your time eavesdropping?”

“It was something I overheard him say to
Crevan a couple of weeks ago, right after you came home, actually.
I was curious, did a little digging around on my own time.”

Our entrees arrived. I pushed my plates off
to the side and dug into the pasta. “Spill it. It’s got to be huge
if you’re acting so freaky about it. Did you find something on
Sanderfield? I’m having dinner with David tonight. I’d be happy to
pass the info along if you’re unsure how to –”

“Helen, it’s not about Sanderfield,” he
interrupted. “It’s about you.”

“Me? He’s investigating
me
?”

“Well, not really. Your family, specifically
your mother. I couldn’t believe what I heard Crevan say, Helen. I
can’t believe you know about it. If you did, you’d have said
something when we were working the Datello and Villanueva
cases.”

“What is it?”

His voice dropped so low, it was almost a
whisper. “I heard Crevan tell him that your mom’s stepfather is
from Darkwater Bay.”

“Knew that,” I said. “Not while we were
working the case though. I found out… well, from my father.
Posthumously.” It was just a little lie. Necessary.

“His name, Helen. Wasn’t there anything
about his name that stuck out?”

“Lyle?”

“Lyle
Henderson
. Henderson,
Helen.”

So, that was Johnny’s next move. Dragging
Crevan to the truth through a
legitimate
investigation.

Chapter 22

Rack of lamb with a savory Dijon crust
roasted in the oven. Mint jelly chilled in the refrigerator. New
potatoes were seasoned to perfection. Baby peas swam in a creamy
butter sauce. The wine was breathing. And none of it erased the
noxious fumes coming from the guest room.

Even with the door closed and the
west-facing windows open, the house filled with the malodorous
scent of fresh wet paint. The contractor assured me that despite
the smell, they used a product that was non-toxic to pregnant
women.

It sure didn’t help settle my discriminating
stomach.

David would arrive in less than fifteen
minutes. I slid the patio doors open in the family room and sucked
in great gulps of the mild evening air blowing in off the Pacific.
Surely this would help cut the odds that David and I would both
suffer blinding headaches before the end of dinner.

I frowned. Was it my imagination, or did I
hear the low rumble of an automatic garage door opener? My eyes
fluttered shut. This was so not what I needed to cap off what had
been an otherwise pretty good day. Why was Johnny home? He said not
to expect him until late. I deprived myself of sleep all day to
make sure I’d be passed out from exhaustion before he came home. I
wasn’t sure I had the stamina to control my temper with him in
front of David.

Voices floated through the garage door. So,
he brought David to dinner.

The moment they stepped into the house, the
conversation died.

Then, “What the hell? Helen!”

I was getting sick and tired of him barking
my name like that. Insufficient stamina, remember? I growled. “I
thought you were going to be out late.”

“Why does it reek like a chemical plant in
here?”

I rolled my eyes, chose to ignore the
question and hugged my friend.

David smiled weakly. “Is that rack of lamb
trying to overpower something… else?”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve opened the patio
doors. Give it a few minutes.”

“What is
it
exactly?”

“Some crack investigator you are,” I
sneered. “It’s
paint
, which the contractor assured me is not
harmful for me to breathe in my delicate condition. Thanks for
bringing David over. You may leave now.”

David’s eyes widened.

“I’m not going anywhere, so you may as well
set an extra plate,
sweetheart
.” Sarcasm dripped from his
lips.

I dragged air into my lungs, opened my mouth
to vent a spectacular piece of mind but stopped at David’s stunned
expression.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Johnny shot me a warning glance. “Bad day at
the office and hormones do not mix.”

“Bullshit. Let’s not forget that I’m paid to
profile human behavior for a living. You two are about ten seconds
away from hand to hand combat, and I think I really need an
explanation.”

“It’s a distinct lack of forgiveness,” I
said. “Somebody is still pissed off that I took matters of
self-preservation into my very own capable hands.”

Johnny grunted in disgust. “Lack of
forgiveness? Doesn’t that imply that you apologized for what you
did, Helen? Excuse me, but I must’ve been absent for that
conversation.”

“Forgive me –”

“I’d love to if I heard a sincere
apology.”

“Forgive me
but
I don’t think I need
to apologize for looking out for my personal safety. You sure as
hell haven’t done a very good job catching the bad guys and putting
an end to this mess.”

“So it was better to run off and let me fear
the worst? We agonized over what happened to you for days,
Doc.”

“
Don’t
call me that!”

“And you didn’t give a damn about any of our
feelings. No, not you. Same as always, you put your self-interest
above everything and everybody else. Tell me something, David,” he
pivoted 45 degrees toward my friend. “Was she always so goddamned
impulsive and self destructive when she was with the bureau?
Running off on her own, never considering the consequences of going
after a suspect without proper backup?”

“We call it person of interest now,” I
sneered. “Dinosaur.”

“Enough!”

I stared, stunned.

“Whatever is going on between the two of you
is clearly more serious than what I’ve had the misfortune of
hearing tonight. A bit of stress and some hormonal changes are not
an adequate stimulus for world war three. If you won’t tell me the
truth about what’s going on here, please accept my advice in the
spirit intended. Talk to a professional. Your marriage is
absolutely headed in the wrong direction.”

“There is no marriage. Not when he thinks he
fucking owns me! Really, David, perhaps you should be investigating
him
as the likely suspect who tried to buy me. Maybe he
thought I’d turn down his marriage proposal and slavery was plan
B.”

Johnny looked like he could’ve strangled me
on the spot – or thrown up in disgust over the vile accusation.
Fortunately, the timer on the oven chimed and interrupted all out
warfare.

“I’m hungry. If anyone wants dinner, I’ll be
eating in the dining room tonight.”

David followed me into the butler’s pantry.
“Helen, I should leave. You need talk to your husband about this.
I’ve never seen two people more devoted to each other. I can’t
believe what I just witnessed. This should be the happiest time of
your lives right now.”

I snorted, “It is, when we’re not around
each other.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Listen
to me. I understand why you did what you did. Fear does things to
people, incomprehensible reactions in other contexts. Look at this
from his point of view for a second. He was terrified too, and then
he discovered that you escaped your captors but didn’t turn to him
for help. It hurt him, Helen. Why do things hurt us? Because of
love.”

“Then love should be avoided at all
costs.”

David turned me toward him, tipped my chin
up from my chest. “After what you went through with Rick, I
would’ve thought you’d embrace that philosophy for the rest of your
life. Johnny is not Rick Hamilton. He actually loves you,
Helen.”

“Rick loved –”

“No one but his corrupt family, and you know
it. I never liked him, never understood what you saw in him. I kept
my mouth shut for years. Why? Because I love you, my dear, dear
friend. But I will not make the same silent mistake again. You need
to fix whatever is wrong between you and your husband.”

“He doesn’t want to listen to what I have to
say,” my eyes burned hotly. “Don’t you think I tried to talk to
him? He basically told me to shut up, that the days of me having
any say over my life were done.”

“And you mean everything you say when you’re
angry?”

“I do now.”

“Jesus, you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve
ever known. I cannot believe that his genuine concern for your
health and safety incited such an argument.”

“The paint isn’t –”

“It is horrible, Helen. You didn’t jump down
my throat when I expressed the same concerns.”

“You didn’t yell at me like a drill sergeant
either.”

“Fair enough. It’s pretty clear to me that
the two of you are carrying over hurt feelings from one fight to
the next. Helen, you are far too astute as a psychologist not to be
able to step back and see this for what it really is.”

And David was far too good not to recognize
that none of the petty bullshit he witnessed was the real root of
our problem. I sucked in a deep breath. Calming. Steadying. “I’ll
try. Right now, I’d like to get the lamb out of the oven and eat
dinner.”

“Civilly?”

I nodded. “I really am hungry. It doesn’t
help matters much.”

“I’ll get the lamb. You set another place
for Johnny in the dining room.”

David finished transplanting dinner from the
butler’s pantry while I added another place at the table. He jerked
his head toward the door.

“Don’t you think he might be more apt to
join us if you politely ask him?”

I could muster information. I couldn’t
guarantee that it would be polite or in the form of a request for
his company. I wandered sullenly toward the kitchen. Johnny was
gone. I checked the garage. His car was parked right beside mine. I
found the office door closed.

Major eye roll. I knocked softly.

“What?”

I pushed the door open half way. “Dinner’s
on the table. I put another setting out for you if you want to join
us.”

“Lost my appetite.”

“Johnny…” I sighed.

“Again, what?” Red rimmed eyes met mine.

“Haven’t we aired enough of our dirty
laundry for one night?”

He turned back to the computer screen and
stared.

“Will you please come to dinner?”

His chin twitched. “You don’t want me there.
You don’t want me anywhere near you. Sometimes I feel like you
don’t even want me on the same planet.” Johnny impaled me with an
accusatory glare. “You weren’t even wearing your wedding ring when
I found you, Helen. How do you think that made me feel?”