Beneath the Cracks (11 page)

"What were they?"  I sipped the merlot
and let the alcohol soothe the knot out of my stomach with its
first splash. 

"First one had to do with migrant workers
and a farm that recruits in some of the worst parts of Downey and
Darkwater proper.  He seemed less inclined to think it would
yield useful information."

"Why not?  That could actually provide
an explanation for how all these men were injured in the same way,"
I said.  "Farm implement.  We could still be looking at
accidental deaths, gentlemen.  Of course it was a crime to
merely dump the bodies, but –"

"How would that explain what happened to
Jake?" Orion asked.  "Chris said he died from a meth
overdose.  I promise you, Jake was not a drug addict."

"Maya already ruled his death a homicide,
Johnny.  I even believe it's definitely related to the deaths
of the homeless men.  At the same time, we shouldn't dismiss
any lead that could explain how those homeless men died. 
What's the name of the farm that hires migrant workers?"

"Dupree," Johnny said.

"And that's a problem," Tony piped up. 
"It's not even in Bay County, Helen."

"We're only trying to find out who these men
were," I said.  "It's not like we'll be showing up with a
search warrant.  The first step should include knowing the
names of our victims.  Since the only victim whose identity is
known followed this lead, it's logical that we follow it too. 
Perhaps it'll lead to how the person who dumped Detective Cox in
Downey knew about how the other men were found."

"The second hunch he was playing actually
seems a bit more likely, Doc," Johnny disagreed with me wearing kid
gloves.  "He stumbled on an awful lot of illegal drugs making
the rounds through one of the shelters in Downey."

"Did anyone point him in the direction of
the dealer?" Crevan asked.

"No, but he was pretty sure it was someone
affiliated with the shelter."

"Based on what, his hunch?" I asked.

"Because bums who panhandle for a cheap
bottle of whiskey don't have the money to buy the drugs these guys
were getting their hands on.  They weren't the most open bunch
about revealing what they knew, but Jake's cover helped put him in
a position to get answers other guys couldn't," Orion said.

"What was his cover, beyond being a filthy
bum?"

Johnny scowled at Crevan.  "Filthy
bum?  Jake was posing as a pastor."

Crevan and Tony shared another
look. 

"Uh, John, this guy showed up in a dumpster
looking like any other guy livin' on the streets.  In fact,
the only way he appeared different at all was that he wasn't on the
brink of starvation," Tony said.  "'Course Winslow noticed
that he had great teeth for a bum too."

"I see."

Clearly Orion wasn't pleased that Cox had
omitted information in his status reports.

"Don't assume that the minister angle was a
lie, Orion.  Think street preacher," I suggested. 
"They're nearly as invisible to the real world as the homeless are,
and it would've given him an automatic inside track with
them.  Especially if he…"

"If he what?" Orion growled.

"Appeared a little…unbalanced," I
said.  "Like I said.  Think street preacher."

"You think one of my undercover detectives
looked and behaved like a homeless nut job standing on the corners
of Downey preaching hell, fire and brimstone?"

Tony shrugged.  "That actually makes
sense.  And it might give us a way to follow up with the
homeless dudes.  We get one of our female officers to dress
for the part, take Jake's picture through the shelters and ask if
anybody has seen her brother.  She could claim she's worried
that he's off his medication or somethin'."

"An excellent plan," I said.  "Although
I'm not sure about using a police officer."

"We can't use a civvie," Briscoe argued.

"I wasn't suggesting that exactly
either."

"Helen –"

"Hear me out.  You can't give someone a
script to look for the crazy brother who went off his meds and
expect her to improvise on the fly."

"And ain't nobody gonna believe the head
cheerleader gives a damn about her crazy brother either,
Eriksson."

"The head…"

"You," Crevan grinned.  "I think he
just paid you a compliment in that Briscoe charming sort of
way."

I snorted.  "I could go off for fifteen
minutes to my bathroom and come back out here and you'd never
recognize me, Tony.  Don't think I can't play a role that
looks nothing like me.  It's a bet you'd lose."  Suffice
it to say that when the gauntlet was thrown down in a certain way,
he couldn't resist.

"How much?"

"Tony, we don't have time for –"

"A Franklin," I cut off Orion and laid down
the challenge in concrete terms.  Hell, I was one upside down
brush and a tattered flannel shirt away from looking the homeless
part as it was.  All I needed to do was scrub off the remnants
of makeup and let Tony have a gander at the black circles under my
eyes.

"You are aware that Franklin's on the
hundred, right Doc?"  Orion's shoulder brushed against mine
when he leaned over to caution me about betting with
Briscoe. 

I didn't back down.  I did roll my
eyes.  "What do you say, big man?  Got the guts to put
your money where your mouth is?"

His eyes twinkled like the mysterious depths
of Darkwater's bay.  "Oh, you've got yourself a bet,
sweetheart.  Go get messy.  If you really think such a
thing is possible."

On my way out of the kitchen, I heard Crevan
and Johnny scolding him for wasting time on a pointless
exercise.  Apparently, Orion had already decided there was no
way in hell he would let me out on the street. 

To my way of seeing things, a clever
disguise was exactly called for, particularly if I planned to find
out if Mark Seleeby had really been meeting with Danny
Datello.  Ideas of what that might've been about rolled
through my brain while I teased my hair into a ratted mess and
scrubbed the makeup off my face.  For a highlighting effect, I
smudged a little eyeliner under my eyes and blended it in to
highlight the dark half moons from sleep deprivation.  Two
drops of antibacterial soap made the already weary vessels of my
eyes pop out like I'd been on a bender for at least a week. 
The stinging liquid instantly turned my nose red and drippy.

A quick dig through the bureau drawers
procured my most treasured, thread bare sweats, typically reserved
for bedtime.  They had been Rick's, and as such hung from my
slim shoulders and hips with all the style of a burlap sack. 
The costume was completed with a pair of sneakers I hadn't been
able to force myself to throw away (a last purchase by Dad before
my senior year of high school).  I'd worn them until the soles
cracked. 

I consciously slouched and took a good two
inches off my height and shuffled back to the kitchen.

"Jumpin' Jesus!" Briscoe nearly upended his
chair in his surprise.

I grinned.  "Given more time, I've got
some dandy stuff from Halloween from days of yore that will gray a
tooth enough that you'd swear it was real.  I'll even let an
herbal cigarette pollute my lungs for the occasion, that is, if you
think it makes me look common enough to pull off the charade."

Crevan shook his head and laughed.  "I
told you not to bet with her, Tony."

"I can still see the cheerleader," Orion
said.  "But then, that's just me."

"It must be," I flopped back into a kitchen
chair and perched my chin on one fist.  "Because I was never a
cheerleader, Orion."

"You couldda been," Briscoe muttered while
digging out the money owed.

"I think you just insulted me, Tony. 
Don't you know that cheerleaders are notorious for being
empty-headed bimbos?  I have never been either one."  I
glanced at Orion, half for his reaction, half for his seal of
approval.  He was staring at one hand on the table that traced
random patterns.  "So what do you say, Orion?  Do I have
the job?"

"I'd rather you not rub elbows with
dangerous people.  But I know.  You'll argue your
outstanding talents in martial arts."

"She is a black belt, Johnny," Crevan
said.  "And look at her.  She could pass in the
neighborhood.  We can put a wire on her and stay at a discreet
distance.  If anything goes wrong out there, it's not like we
–"

I couldn't believe it.  Crevan Conall
was pleading my case, and clawing his way to the top of the heap of
my esteem of others. 

"I won't allow anything to go wrong. 
I'm going along for these trips to the shelter and local
businesses," Orion said.

"You can't do that!  There's no
conceivable reason for you, Johnny Orion security guy
el
jefe
supremo
, to be involved in another police
investigation," I protested a little too strongly from the grins on
three faces.  "This isn't funny!"

"You're right, Doc.  It's freakin'
hilarious."

"Go to hell."

"Helen, it's not like you'll be out there
flashing a badge either," Crevan pointed out.  "That's kind of
the point of working undercover.  People don't know who you
really are."

"No.  I would've never imagined."

"Don't get snotty," Johnny said.  "It's
a rough part of town.  I'm a private security guy.  Let's
just establish right now that you and I are old friends from high
school.  You came to me for help when Preacher fell off your
radar.  I'm only helping as a friend."

I gritted my teeth.  How would I ditch
Orion and slip away to find Seleeby?

"Johnny, I don't think that's really
necessary.  If Helen wears a wire, we'll be able to hear
everything that happens.  She's gonna need these guys to open
up to her.  How will that happen if she's got some hulking
bodyguard lurking around?"

Seriously wanted to kiss Crevan Conall right
about now.  I held my tongue, my breath, crossed my fingers
and toes for luck.

Orion growled, "Then I'm in the surveillance
van with you guys, or it's off."

"And if someone sees you consorting with
cops?"  Crevan was like a dog with a bone.  "Didn't Chris
explain why you can't be hands on with this case, Johnny?  Or
is maintaining your cover no longer important to you?  Do you
want Datello to realize that the state's top cop is watching him,
or do you want him to think you're just a nuisance?"

"Dammit," Orion muttered under his
breath.

"Then we're agreed," Briscoe was only
missing the gavel to put an end to the case against Johnny Orion
butting into their investigation.  "We'll watch Eriksson's
back while she looks for guys that might be willing to talk about
Jake and you'll be in charge of making sure Helen's shadow stays
out of our way for good, Johnny."  His bushy gray eyebrows
stitched together tightly.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the con
finally dawned on me.  They were in it together, conspiring to
occupy me with official business while Johnny pulled all the
strings he could to get rid of Seleeby.

"That's really not necessary."  Or
possible.  But what would they know about it?

"It is necessary, Helen," Crevan said. 
"We've made every concession you requested.  It's your
turn."

"And mine is non-negotiable," Johnny
said.  "You let me handle the FBI and keep David Levine out of
this."

"When did the three of you put this little
plan together?"  I slid Briscoe's dirty money back across the
table.

He grinned.  "You won that fair and
square, sweetheart.  Not to piss on Johnny's opinion of you,
but you look like somethin' the cat dragged in, and I ain't talkin'
about a
live
mouse."

"Keep your money.  I don't need
it."

"Doc, we're worried about you, about this
Seleeby guy and what he's doing cozying up to Datello.  How
can we even be sure he's really interested in Marcos?  Was he
making progress with –"

"Don't ask me that.  In the first
place, I don't know.  I wasn't privy to anything that went on
between the FBI and my ex-husband.  In the second place, you
can't accuse the FBI of corruption simply because you don't like
one of the agents investigating a case.  For all you know,
he's putting pressure on Datello just like he has been Marcos for
the past five years."

I didn't buy that any more than my three
suspicious guests.  Still, it was one thing to be a member of
the crime family Sully Marcos operated, and entirely another matter
to be his flesh and blood.  Was Datello working a deal with
Seleeby on behalf of Uncle Sully?  It was a question I
desperately wanted answered.  Yet those were answers that
Orion absolutely couldn't get on my behalf.

"I won't back down, Helen.  I've
already got an appointment with Joe first thing in the
morning.  We're getting this guy off your back, and that's
final."

"Joe?"

"The governor," Crevan said.  "Helen,
we really believe it's for the best."

"Good luck with that, Orion.  In the
meantime, I've got a very early morning.  If you don't mind,
I'd like to get some sleep."

I practically shoved them out the door,
ignored the dirty dishes in the kitchen and filled my wine glass to
the rim.  A minute later, I was curled up in a chair in the
study, trying to steady my hand.  I took a fortifying gulp of
wine (drained the glass), refilled and dialed the number I knew all
too well.  There was no doubt that it would be answered,
despite the late hour or the fact that it was Sunday
night. 

David Levine almost lived at Quantico.

"It's Helen."

"Hey, how are you?  I've been thinking
about you lately, wondering how the move into the new house has
gone."

"David, why did Mark Seleeby accost me in my
driveway tonight?"  No sense mincing words.  I listened
for the familiar creak in his chair that did not come.

"I wasn't aware he was still out there."