The Advocate's Daughter (20 page)

“Anyone who asks you to do anything right now is an ass,” Emily said. “They can wait. And if they can't, to hell with them.” With that, she marched out of the kitchen, leaving the laptop on the counter.

Sean squinted at his phone's screen. Most of the e-mails from work had nothing to do with Sean. He'd learned quickly that for a firm with more than one thousand lawyers in nine offices, Harrington & Caine had lax e-mail policies. Daily he received firmwide e-mails from colleagues seeking contacts with different companies, or information about particular judges, or selling opera tickets, or even lost-and-founds. If Sean ever lost a paperback in the firm's bathroom, he decided, he'd take the ten-buck loss rather than subject colleagues to the mental image of him reading while on the toilet.

He scrolled down until he saw two e-mails from Abani Gupta, which he presumed included the Senate questionnaire and other vetting materials on Senator James. The first e-mail included password-protected files, the second contained the password for the files. Half-assed security, all things considered. Gupta asked Sean to attend a meeting with Senator James the next morning. Short notice, she apologized, but they were on a tight schedule. It would be a quick meet-and-greet with the senator to set a schedule for Sean to help him prepare for his confirmation hearing. Sean replied that he would attend. The files were too large to open on his phone, so he spun the laptop around to log on to his e-mail account. The CNN website was still on the screen. He noticed that the site had loaded more photos of Sean and Malik's showdown at dinner, including new shots of the Serrats leaving the restaurant. If only he'd pulled open the umbrella sooner to shield them from the aggressive photographer. The editor at the website had carefully cropped out Ryan and Jack from the photos, as if that made up for the indecent spectacle of it all.

Sean's eye focused on one of the shots. They were just outside the restaurant, Sean looking away as Emily stalked forward, head up, her expression trancelike. A male figure was in the background. Sean leaned in closer to the screen. He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing clearly. But there he was, faded into the backdrop of the shot. Same scraggly hair, same flannel shirt.

His thoughts were interrupted by Emily's scream.

 

CHAPTER 50

Sean stumbled off the kitchen stool and raced to the family room. If it had been
Before,
he would have expected to find a big spider or the appearance of the killer in a horror movie (the only two things that ever seemed to scare Emily). But life was different now, and fear heaved in his chest. Emily was backing away from the window, the curtains still fluttering from where she'd whooshed them shut.

“Are you okay? What's going on? What is it?”

“Somebody's out there.”

Sean instinctively pushed in front of Emily, shielding her from the window.

Ryan was now on the stairs. “Everything okay?”

Sean opened the curtains covering the French doors to a slit and looked outside onto their back patio. He could see the outline of someone, probably just a reporter skulking around, but there was a glare from the family room light. He gestured for Emily to turn it off. When the room went dark, his heart tripped at the sight of the man. His hair was soaked and strings of it fell across his face. He glared into the window, a menacing tilt of the head. The wet flannel shirt stuck to his thin frame.

It was him. A drenched rat emerging from the sewer. What did he want? Why was he outside the restaurant earlier that night? And why was he here at the house? Sean thought of his gun, but it was locked upstairs. And the gun had already caused enough trouble. Sean took in a deep breath and moved toward the door.

“You're not going out there?” Emily said. It was both a question and a command.

“I'll be okay, lock the door behind me. And have the phone ready to call 9-1-1 if needed.”

Before Em could protest more, Sean was on his back patio, facing his boyhood friend, Kenny Baldwin. Kenny moved into the shadows and was looking around, nervous, the rain still coming down hard. Kenny's eyes met Sean's. They stared at one another, not saying anything until Sean finally began with a single word:
“Why?”

“We can't talk here,” Kenny said. “He may be watching.”

“Who? What are you—”

“Let's take a ride and I'll tell you everything.”

Sean gave a
you've got to be fucking kidding me
expression. “I'm not going anywhere with you.” He looked back at the house. Two dark masses were in the window.

“You will if you wanna know what happened to your daughter.”

 

CHAPTER 51

“You're doing what? No, Sean. Who is this man?” Emily's face was wrinkled with worry and disbelief.

Ryan paced the family room, a caged animal. Mercifully Jack, who could sleep with a jackhammer outside his window, was still in bed.

“He has information about Abby.” Sean made long eye contact with Emily, realizing that Ryan was watching them. “I know him. I'll be fine.”

Ryan said, “Is this about what happened with the man from Chipotle? Is this one of his friends? I don't think you should go, Dad.” Ryan peered out the window. Rain drops bounced off the flagstone. Kenny sat inside the darkened SUV in the driveway. Sean knew he was there by the flash of a lighter through the tinted glass.

“You need to trust me on this.” He looked at Emily. There was a long silence. But he could see retreat in her face.

“Mom, seriously?” Ryan said.

Emily stepped away from the door. “We need to trust your father.”

He felt a warmth come over him at the words.

Sean went out into the thrashing rain and climbed into the SUV. He was met with the smell of smoke and something sickly sweet. Sean looked at Kenny, whose pupils were saucers. Then he saw the glass pipe in his lap. Then the blade Kenny was holding, and Sean knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

 

CHAPTER 52

“I ain't here to hurt you,” Kenny said. “I just need some money to get outta town, and I wanna set some shit straight with you.” His grip tightened on the small blade.

Sean couldn't help but think of that night in Japan.

“Drive,” Kenny demanded.

Sean considered fighting his way out. But the cabin of the SUV was too small and he wanted to get this man as far away as possible from his family. He started the vehicle and reversed slowly down the driveway. Kenny crouched low in the seat as they reached the street in front of the house. Sean studied the man in the weak light. His teeth, covered in metallic braces when he was a teen, were now decayed. He was puffier in the face, but the rest of him was too thin, all ropey muscles and bone. He had crude tattoos and sores on his forearms.

Sean pulled from the drive and proceeded down the street, the wipers slashing away the heavy rain. When they were a few blocks from the house, Kenny sat back up. He was twitchy, agitated. His glance kept flicking to the side-view mirror, like he was worried someone had followed them.

Sean said, “Money is no problem. I'll give you whatever you want. Just take it easy.”

“Don't tell me to take it easy, motherfucker,” Kenny shouted. His eyes bugged and a vein in his neck kept bulging. Kenny gestured with the blade for Sean to turn right, taking them to Connecticut Avenue.

Sean kept his eyes on the road, playing out his next move. Should he crash the SUV into a lamppost or another car? Should he jump out at a light? Or should he take the risk and hear the man out? Before he could decide, Kenny said, “Pull onto the interstate.”

Sean veered onto the Beltway and the SUV picked up speed, streams of rain racing over the moon roof. Ahead was a blur of brake lights.

Kenny turned to Sean and said, “I didn't fuckin' touch her, you got that? And if he says I did”—Kenny pounded the dash with his fist—“he's lying. I just told her what he wanted me to say. He's trying to set me up. I ain't goin' down for this.”

Sean's jaw clenched, realizing that Kenny was referring to Abby. In the most calm tone he could manage, he said, “You talked to my daughter?”

Kenny started ranting. “The deal was I'd fuck with you. Let you see me, mess with your head. Tell your daughter about what we did in Misawa. But that was it. I didn't touch her. The dude's lost his mind.”

“Who, Kenny? Who are you talking about?” Sean's knuckles were white on the steering wheel as the SUV accelerated.

“Who do you think, man?” Kenny spat out, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Sean thought about who else knew what had happened in Japan. Sean had never told anyone other than his father, and he was dead. That left only Sean, Kenny, and the other boy there that night.

“Juan?” Sean said.

“
Pfft.
You really did just leave and never look back, didn't you?” Kenny pushed the wet hair out of his eyes. “Juan offed himself right after you left Misawa.”

Sean took that in. “I didn't know.”

“Of course you didn't,” Kenny said in disgust. “Your daddy made sure of that.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean felt Kenny's stare on him as he pushed down the interstate, the wipers swishing full speed.

“How did you think no one ever found out 'bout us? Your dad wouldn't let the Japs on base to question anybody. They needed his permission. The General shut it down. Saved us both.”

Sean thought back to that night, to the time after he'd confessed to his dad. The General had disappeared for a while, but Sean had assumed he'd gone to the O Club, where he spent every night drinking.
You will tell no one. Ever. This is about more than just you, Sean.
It had all seemed so irrational. A plan built more on convenience and fear for his job than Sean's well-being. A decision to keep quiet—keep it buried—not an actual cover-up.

“Then who, Kenny? Who had you do this? Is it Senator James?”

Kenny shook his head and pointed the blade to an exit sign. “Get off here.” He directed Sean to the parking lot of a roadside motel. The place was a two-story flophouse with rows of rooms facing a parking lot filled with old cars and U-Hauls. Water poured down from sagging gutters on the flat roof. Across the street, a group of men huddled in the doorway of a caged liquor store. All stared at the luxury SUV as if an alien ship had landed on the block.

Sean pulled under a lonely street lamp, leaving the engine on. His heart was thumping and he was scared, but something made him think that Kenny wasn't going to hurt him. Kenny seemed scared himself.

“Give me your wallet and phone.”

Sean arched his back and lifted himself from the seat and pulled out his wallet. He handed it to Kenny.

“If it's money you want, I can give you a lot more than the fifty bucks I have on me. Please just tell me who is behind all this. I promise, I'll keep you out of it.”

“I was just supposed to scare you. That was the deal. I didn't know he was gonna…” His voice trailed off.

“Who, Kenny? I can't help if I don't know who you're talking about. You came to my house for a reason tonight. Please…”

Kenny seemed to be coming down from whatever he had smoked. “I need help getting outta town.”

“Whatever you need.”

Kenny thought about this. “Come with me.” He opened the passenger door quickly and stepped out into the downpour.

“Kenny, wait,” Sean said, but the door slammed shut. Sean jumped out of the SUV after him. He caught up with Kenny, who was heading toward one of the ground-floor rooms in the motel. Sean wasn't going into a sketchy motel room with this man. He grabbed Kenny's arm.

Kenny turned back at him. “It wasn't supposed to go down like this. He fooled everybody.”

“Who?”

“He set it all up, he—”

Sean heard a pop and felt a sting of liquid and what felt like bits of gravel lashing his face. He wiped at his eyes, then he saw Kenny's body on the wet ground, head exploded.

 

CHAPTER 53

Raindrops pounded the windshield as Sean raced down the highway. He was breathing raggedly, and his eyes kept flicking to the rearview to see if anyone was following. In the mirror, he saw the streaks of red on his face. He fought back images of Kenny stretched out in the puddles of brown water in the parking lot, his head a shattered watermelon. The gunman must have been nearby. Sean had ducked down, retrieved his wallet and phone, then jumped in the SUV and taken off.

When he arrived home, Emily was waiting for him at the door. She studied him for a moment, then thrust her arms around him.

It was time. She deserved to know the truth.

“Come with me,” he said. “I need to show you something.”

*   *   *

In the flickering light of their attic, they sat on two boxes, facing one another. She had a bewildered expression on her face as he dug through another box and found his old Def Leppard album. The attic wasn't cold, but Sean had been shivering since witnessing Kenny's murder. He steadied his breathing and pulled out the newspaper clipping about the storekeeper.

And he told her everything.

About a stolen bottle of whiskey from a Japanese liquor store. About three boys and a scuffle with the storekeeper. About a thirty-year-old murder. About the oath. And about how Sean had gone to his father who demanded they keep quiet about the crime. He also told her about his remorse and the shame that prevented him from being honest with her, though he'd wanted to. And how his past had roared back when someone—maybe Senator James—tracked down Kenny Baldwin. He told her about Kenny bumping into him on the subway. About the bottle Kenny put in the SUV. And about tonight, how Kenny said someone had hired him to play mind games with Sean and then something went wrong. He choked up when he reported that Kenny had told Abby about the crime. And he told her that Kenny said Sean knew the man behind it all, but was murdered before he could reveal his identity. He didn't know whether to believe a word of what Kenny had said. But nothing else seemed to explain why he'd reemerged recently, why he'd come to Sean's house tonight, or why he'd been killed.