Cloaked in Blood (23 page)

I didn’t make time to worry about what that
meant.

Chapter 22

Lyle picked up the phone and dialed a number
he knew as well as his own.  His partner answered before the
cessation of the first chime.

“It’s done,” he said.  “Nate
understands why there can be no further special errands for
me.  I don’t like it, but I’ve done what you felt was
necessary.”

“Good.  But I’m still concerned if he’s
trustworthy or not.”

“He is.  We have another problem. 
I went out to Dunhaven today,” Lyle said.  “It would appear
that OSI is suddenly concerned for the wellbeing of our friend
Jerry Lowe.”

“Oh?”

“You had no inkling that this was
coming?”

“The welcome mat at the police department
was revoked to me some months ago, as you well know, Lyle. 
Why is OSI worried about Mr. Lowe?”

“It seems that Orion thinks his life might
be in danger.”

“They can’t deny you access,” he said. 
“Mental health rights being what they are, Jerry can have visits
from clergymen.”

“Yes, but they’ve boosted security out
there.  In fact, OSI has a man posted on Jerry’s unit at all
times now, or so I was informed when I asked about the unfamiliar
face outside his room.”

“I see.  During your spiritual visits
to Mr. Lowe, has he indicated knowledge of anything he shouldn’t
know?”

“You were clearly very careful, old
friend.”

“One has to be when dealing with men like
him.  I recall his naked ambition back in the day, how much
others equally ambitious and far more qualified for command
despised him.  Jerry Lowe was never well liked.  It
served my purposes to see him advance.”

“But you didn’t know about his
extracurricular activities, did you?”

Lyle’s partner laughed.  “Why would I
care what he does?  He kept that nonsense out of the good
neighborhoods.  I preferred to think of it as population
control.  Are you certain he doesn’t know my identity?”

“If he does, the cagey bastard hasn’t let it
slip.  Then again, I get the impression that Mr. Lowe knows a
great deal about many things and has no intention of talking about
them.”

“With OSI watching him, it makes it more
difficult to make sure he doesn’t have a change of heart,
Lyle.  At this point, I’m leaning toward complete elimination
of all potential leaks.  That includes Jerry Lowe.  God
knows, the community would not weep over his passing.  In
fact, I daresay they’d be delighted to see justice served.”

“How can we accomplish it?”

“We may not have to,” his partner
said.  “Not if OSI has concerns.  Helen Eriksson might
have more motive than anyone else to eliminate Lowe.”

“We can’t will the woman to commit a
murder,” Lyle said.  “She may have been raised by an
unconscionable killer, but that doesn’t mean she naturally disposed
to such violence.”

“Oh, but she is.  Let’s not forget how
she dispensed her form of justice to Andy Gillette and Captain
Gutierrez.  She’s paranoid, Lyle.  If she believes that
Jerry Lowe poses a threat to her and Orion’s spawn, she’ll kill
him.  You mark my words.”

“He’s locked away in Dunhaven.  How the
hell do you propose that we convince her that Lowe is a threat to
her child’s safety?”

“He’s the mastermind of this human
trafficking thing she just won’t stop investigating, of
course.”

“And if she realizes that she was the
beginning of our enterprise?  Then what?  Jerry Lowe
isn’t old enough to be –”

“You let me worry about that.  I’m
certain that none of them know the truth of Helen’s
parentage.  I do still have one reliable source of
information, Lyle.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he said.  “Like it or not, that
won’t change.”

“And which of you doesn’t like it.”

“At the moment, that would be me.  But
I see a solution to that problem as well.  I want you to
continue seeing Jerry Lowe, and keep me apprised of conditions at
Dunhaven.  The information will be useful at some point, I’m
certain.”

Johnny crowded behind me in the
kitchen.  His hands roved over my belly.  “I missed
you.”

“Is that a fact?  It’s almost
midnight.  You didn’t even call to say you wouldn’t be home
for dinner.”

“Sorry about that.”  He nibbled at the
sweet spot on my neck.  “David had a lot of questions.”

“Hmm, I’m sure he did.  Do I want to
know what has piqued his curiosity this time?”

“Probably.  It was mostly about
you.  I think your Mr. Hyde routine this afternoon freaked him
out more than a little bit, Helen.”

“No less than he deserves.”

“I don’t think he completely buys this
hormones run amok story I tried to peddle.  It could be a real
problem if you don’t at least try to rein it in.”

“I can’t pretend right now, Johnny. 
Don’t you think I wish I could simply lie without batting an
eye?  God, I miss the good old days.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that.” 
He jerked his head toward the stairs.  “How are things with
our guest going?”

“Fine,” I said.  “Danny has a
remarkable capacity for forgiveness.  Quite unexpected, all
things considered.”

“Should I be worried that the two of you
seem to be developing a bit of common ground?”

I shrugged.  “You’ll worry no matter
what I say about it.  I’m more interested in hearing David’s
excuses for his sudden return to Darkwater Bay.”

“It’s this Sanderfield thing, Helen. 
The man was a state senator, a candidate for governor.  Like
it or not, the FBI is in on this for the duration.”

“He left a team here working the clues, what
few there are.  That hardly necessitates a behavioral
profiler’s presence.”

“Except Sanderfield was already under
investigation on the campaign funding,” Johnny reminded me. 
“I dropped David off at the airport about two hours ago.  He’s
flying back to Montgomery to resume that angle of the
investigation.  Seems his bosses think there could be a link
between his murder and fear that whoever funded his campaign could
be exposed.”

“Our the slave dealers,” I said.

“That’s the concern,” Johnny said.

“Does David think they can trace the
money?”

“It’s the only lead left to follow, so I
guess they’ve got no other choice.”

“Is OSI still involved in that
investigation?”

“Darnell has the state police in Montgomery
working with the FBI.”

“Shouldn’t you be involved?  Hands on,
I mean.”

“Helen, I’m not leaving Darkwater Bay. 
Don’t think for one second that I’m leaving Lyle Henderson in the
hands of Devlin and your brother.  Nor would I even consider
leaving you alone in a city with your father on the loose and Danny
Datello living under our roof.”

“You don’t trust me?”

He grinned unabashedly.  “Without
reservation.  I have complete faith in your ability to sneak
off, lie to everyone around you, evade proper backup, and try to
put an end to all of this legally or otherwise the second we turn
away for a second.”

“In other words, not the tiniest little
bit,” I grouched.  “You seem to forget that my mobility is a
little bit impaired at the moment and getting worse by the
day.”

“You are creeping up on the halfway mark of
this pregnancy.  Yet that doesn’t comfort me in the
least.  In fact, it was the desperation caused by pregnancy
that made you liberate Wendell two months ago.”

True.

Thunder rumbled overhead.  I glanced
through the wall of glass into the back yard and watched the storm
raging over the Pacific.  The flashes of light held a hypnotic
quality, comforting too, despite the power unleashed by
nature. 

Johnny’s hands settled on my shoulders in a
light massage.  “Come to bed, Helen.  There’s nothing
more we can do today.”

“I want to talk to Jerry Lowe.”

“Even if I would allow that, I’m certain his
attorney wouldn’t.  When I talked to Kayla Young, she
impressed upon me how limited access to Lowe really is now.”

“Except to my grandfather.  Maybe if I
found God, they’d let me have a chat with him.”

“I thought briefly about letting Wendell try
to get inside.”

“Seriously?”

“Not really,” Johnny said.  “It was a
passing notion.  He’s not a real priest, after all, and I
doubt that he’s fooled anyone in the confessional or anywhere
else.”

“Do you think the FBI is still trying to
charge me with Rick’s murder?”

Johnny tugged me toward the bedroom. 
“I don’t know what David’s really up to, Helen, but I agree with
your concerns.  And Wendell’s.  Even Datello’s. 
Though I’m begging you right now not to share that tidbit with
him.  The day Danny Datello and I agree on anything is the day
that the apocalypse begins.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I can’t help it.  We’ll never like
each other, Helen.  I’m glad he’s not the monster we assumed,
but that’s a far cry from trusting him.”

I sat down and patted my side of the
bed.   “I think I do trust him, Johnny.  I think I’m
tired of making the same old mistakes, of making the assumption
that I know everything and missing the obvious because I can’t
possibly be wrong about someone.”

“Aren’t you making assumptions about David?
 And it’s based on your father’s paranoia, Datello’s word
too.”

“You didn’t like him when you met him
either, Johnny.  And you didn’t trust him in December when he
summoned me back to D.C.”

“That was jealousy, and you know it. 
David helped us get our marriage back on track not so long
ago.  I’m not criticizing caution, but I don’t think throwing
away a decade of friendship and trust is a good idea either. 
Maybe you and David could actually accomplish something if you’d
both stop lying to each other and have an honest conversation.”

Panic swelled in my chest.  “He’d
arrest me, Johnny.”

“I doubt that would happen, not the way he’s
latched onto every bit of plausible falsehood you’ve spouted to him
in the past year.  I think he’d understand what happened, just
like I did.”

His words wormed their way through my brain
during sleep, wove an elaborate nightmare I wasn’t convinced was
merely dreamland during sleep.  I spilled my guts to David,
and he whipped out his cuffs, arrested me and read my rights. 
And Johnny was beside him, silent, not cloaking my sins this
time.

They were all there – Devlin who no longer
trusted me simply because he believed I was a good person. 
Datello, getting his revenge for Rick’s murder.  Dad, seeing
me pay the price for not being better than he raised me to
be. 

And the very last face I saw before I woke
up in a cold sweat was Aidan Conall’s.

Seems like we lost the bad seed after all,
Kathleen.  Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Chapter 23

I crept out of the house before
sunrise.  My heart thudded loudly when I opted to disengage
the electric garage door opener and lift the door open
instead.  The hum was too loud.  It would wake Johnny,
alert him to my departure, open a different door, one where answers
would be required.

That couldn’t happen.  Not this time.
There were things that needed to be done.  If my nightmares
proved anything, it was that complete trust in anyone but myself
was foolish.

I drove south and slightly east of Darkwater
proper.  Fielding, the marshy lowlands to the south east of
the bay wasn’t the most beautiful part of the metro area, but it
had become a magnet to me.  It was the epicenter of something
I was only beginning to glimpse two months ago when reality as I’d
known it ended.

Jerry Lowe.  It kept coming back to
Jerry Lowe.  His cryptic comment to me when I arrested him
last year hadn’t plagued me at the time, but now?  Well, I
couldn’t seem to get it out of my brain.  I was the one, he’d
said.  I’d figure it out.  This was only the
beginning.  He wished he’d be around to watch it all
unfold.

Was that foreshadowing?

I hated that bullshit.  Being cryptic
was a pain in the ass.  If Lowe thought someone would kill him
for what he knew, he should’ve opened his mouth and let it all
out.  Hell, if you’re gonna die anyway, why take the secret
with you to the grave?

The last time I’d been at Dunhaven was a
nightmare.  Oddly, it hadn’t tormented me in my dreams for a
long time.  Not even last night when all the demons were
unleashed in sleep.

The tires of the Expedition crunched over
the rocky driveway that led to the hospital.  The place was
bright, even at this early hour.  I imagined techs checking
vital signs, nurses reporting to the next shift, assessments taking
place, medications being poured.  The ventilation system
probably pumped the scent of breakfast through the building. 
Bacon maybe.  Something savory enough to pull the
antipsychotic-dulled minds into the here and now for another day of
structure, of group therapy, behavioral plans and team
meetings.  I thought of psychologists and psychiatrists
discussing treatment plans and medication regimens, what worked,
what didn’t. 

There was a certain comfort in that
structure, in the rote that comprised treatment of mental
illness.  Within these walls lived safety and a routine that
stabilized the chaos of the mind.  If only there were a way
for it to transcend the brick and mortar of Dunhaven, of mental
health facilities all over the world.  Society would be a
better place without the tumultuousness of men without boundaries
enforced.

I parked the Expedition and made my way to
the inside of the hospital.  The receptionist hadn’t arrived
yet.  A lone security guard sat dozing at a desk in a room off
the main lobby.  I tapped lightly on the door.  She
sprang awake with a start.