Witness to Death (34 page)

John pictured that day at Starbucks. The shade of brown hair. The way the hand moved slightly, like she was telling Frank to go on. She was wearing a hat he’d never seen. Her back was to him. But maybe he just didn’t want to recognize her.

Even when he accused her in her apartment, he didn’t really want to believe it.

“She was helping you?”

Frank nodded.

“That’s why she was acting so weird?”

Frank shrugged.

“She threatened to break up with me to try keep your cover. Then she came to the police station.”

“I don’t know, John. She knew something big was going down. Throughout the office there were rumors about Thabata. She uploaded the information about the Thabata meet to our server. I’d mentioned him before. The message was rushed, cut off, but she still told me to be careful.”

John said, “I should have known. I could have—”

He leaned over, put his head in his hands.

“There’s nothing you could have done, John.”

Frank slid down the wall, and sat, knees bent close to his chest. He breathed through his nose, slow controlled breaths, in contrast to the panting John was doing. John hadn’t realized how fast his heart was beating until now.

“There has to be something more here,” Frank said. “We’ve got some pieces to the puzzle, but not the whole thing.”

“Michelle’s dad’s gone nuts.”

Frank smiled. “Come on, you dated her. You know he’s always been this way. Why do you think my department sent me to look into him? He’s unstable, but he’s always been good at covering his tracks. He only slipped up once.”

Maybe more than once? Frank is going to figure a way to get us out of here
, John thought.

Frank sat bolt upright, and then stood as John heard the door unlock behind him. He backed away from it and stood next to John. The door creaked as it opened to reveal the woman who had murdered Ashley.

“Christine,” Frank said as if it were a greeting.

She smiled when she saw John.

“Glad to see you,” she said. “I need you gentlemen to come out back with me.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

Robert Sandler had woken Michelle and taken her off to a room in the far corner beyond the helicopters. There were two chairs on either end of a long wooden table. Table setting with shiny silverware and white napkins sat on either end in front of the chairs.

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

It was warm in the room, warmer than in the open hangar, as if all the heat had been funneled in here. Still, Michelle hugged herself and rubbed her triceps. Her eyelids were heavy. How long before she could rest again?

“You have to eat,” her father said. Then he looked at his watch. “It’s late and we have a lot to catch up on before tomorrow.”

Michelle’s hands shook. Her eyes rolled. She couldn’t focus. The room seemed to be tilted at an angle.

Robert Sandler smiled.

As one of her father’s employees pushed Michelle’s chair closer to the table, the legs squeaked against the wood paneled floor. The employee then placed a bottle of white wine on the table, along with two glasses. He uncorked the bottle and poured a glass. Handed it to her father. Then another, handing it to Michelle. Michelle’s hand wouldn’t close all the way and she nearly dropped the glass, spilling some of the wine on to the table. She used her other hand to balance the glass and realized she looked like a child.

Her dad held his glass for a moment, sniffing the wine. Then took a long sip.

“A little sour,” he said. “But not bad. Try it.”

Michelle stared at her glass. The liquid wasn’t cloudy, and she couldn’t see anything dissolving in it.

“I’m doing all of this for you. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Michelle couldn’t remember the last time she’d had something to drink. Her tongue felt as if it had been left out in the sun.

There was a sound to her left, as if feet were clomping on the floor. Michelle slowly turned her head, and the room tilted even more. She felt like she was on a boat. Christine pushed John into the room. And then disappeared down the hall. It had looked like she was with someone else, but Michelle couldn’t get her eyes to work right.

John paused for a minute in the doorway, his mouth open. His posture went from straight up into a slouch, as if some of the air had been sucked out of him. His cheeks were red and he grinned. He took a step toward her.

Michelle felt her heart pound as if it wanted to escape from her chest.

Robert stood up and shook his head. He said something, but Michelle’s hearing fritzed out at that point. She didn’t hear what he said. A trenchcoat brought another chair. John stopped and sat. Two other men came out and set a table spot for him. Michelle closed her eyes again.

When she opened them, John had a full glass of wine.

Her hip vibrated as if she were still sitting in the wheelchair.

Her dad gulped more wine.

“How are you doing this for her?” John asked. Then he looked at her and gave her a shrug.

Michelle tried to give a slight nod. John turned back to her father.

“I’ve always done everything for Michelle. Paid for college, fashioned her wardrobe, made sure she was cared for by the best doctors in the world. It was my money, my life that I dedicated to making sure she had the best.” Her dad was looking directly at her. Michelle’s vision was finally clearing. The thoughts in her head coming a little quicker.

“I highly doubt that,” John said. “She lives in New Jersey.”

Her father spread his hands. “Had you ever asked to move, Michelle, I would have made sure that happened. You could have had anything you wanted.”

As he spoke, a strong tingling sensation ran down her arms. She felt awake, finally.

“Anything except you!” She slammed her fist on the table and the silverware jangled. “You were never there for me or Mom. You were always working. You never called. I always had to come see you. You left Mom for your work.”

Her father took another sip of wine. John went over to Michelle. He put his arms around her shoulders. Michelle shrugged them off.

When he put the glass down, her father said, “And then you betrayed me. You started to date someone who was investigating me. You let the enemy close to me.” Then as if realizing it for the first time: “And into your bed.”

For the first time since this morning she thought about Frank. Standing there, not even watching as her own sister jammed a taser into her stomach. Into her hip. And how her father ordered it. Neither of them had looked at her. She was a pawn.

She wanted to scream. John squeezed her shoulder gently. Her heart rate rose again.

“It was an accident. I understand. You didn’t know. It’s okay. But it’s an obstacle.” He signaled for another glass of wine. At this point, Michelle couldn’t even tell what this conversation was about. “So, I want you to brace yourself for what has to come.”

Michelle didn’t want to consider her father’s words.

“Where’s Frank, Dad? Is he okay?”

“Turns out, his name’s not Frank. It’s Peter. And he’s here. He’s okay. For the moment.” He looked at his watch. “Yes. For the moment.”

“Where is he? What are you going to do, Dad?”

He said, “I’ve known about him since I intercepted Ashley sending him intel. I fed her the information about Omar being down at the docks. She took the bait and told Peter. I thought he could help me, but he’s outstayed his usefulness.”

John’s hand slipped off Michelle at the mention of Ashley’s name.

Her father didn’t stand, even though Michelle was up and around the corner of the table and running toward him. The man who was serving them was quick, and before Michelle reached the halfway point of the table, he had her by the arms. She struggled and pulled, yelled “Let go of me!” but he didn’t budge.

“You think this was my idea?” her father spat.

“It was Tony. Tony Verderese. He got in touch with me. He found a way for us to make some money. He told me it was a way to make amends. Because I left Mary before Christine was born. But I’m not doing it to make amends.”

Michelle didn’t speak. Were those tears in her father’s eyes?

“Please,” he said. “You have to believe me. I am doing this all for you. With the economy ruined so is my company. I can’t run it with foreign deals. The bomb goes off, they trace the shrapnel to Ameritech. The government has no choice but to drop them as a supplier of black ops weapons. Then I step in.”

John had gone back to his seat. His face was tight.

Her father shrugged. “By the end of this week, you’re going to have everything you ever wanted. All you need to do is be quiet. Please. Let me work.”

John stood, but didn’t move toward them. Michelle tried to step forward toward her father, but the man held her tight.

“You’re insane!” she screamed. “You should have been smarter than that! You should have known what was going to happen. You’re in bed with a mobster! You can’t trust him!”

“You’re the only one still fighting this,” her father said. As if John wasn’t in the room with them.

Michelle stopped struggling.

“I did this all for you, Michelle,” her dad said. “I can’t say it enough. Everything is in motion. There’s no stopping it now.”

John’s gaze bore into her. The man holding her let her go.

Michelle felt as if gravity got heavier, pulling her closer to the floor. Her vision started to blur again. She slumped into the chair.

John dropped his chin to his chest and sat down as well.

Her father wiped his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Now, let’s have some dinner. You look pale,” her father said. “We’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

To the left of them, a door swung open and an Arabic man barged in. He was out of breath.

“What is this?” he said. “A family dinner?

“Omar . . . “ her father said.

“We do not have time for this, Sandler,” he said. “I want to explain the new plan.”