Cloaked in Blood (13 page)

“You’re a great deal older than Celeste
too.”

“You dare compare twenty-some years to
nearly sixty?” he snarled.  Fingers curled into the priestly
garb.

Wendell merely arched one eyebrow.

Datello let go.  “I’m sorry.  A
lot of people gave me grief about Celeste, the age difference at
least.  They thought I married her because she was a beauty
queen – literally.  She was Miss Darkwater Bay the year that
we met and began dating.  The moment she passed the crown on
to her successor, I whisked her away to Hawaii and married her.
 That was nearly four years ago.”

“Touching, but it tells me nothing about
Mrs. Sherman.”

“She was a hostess.  I knew
Eugene.”

“Were you aware that he wasn’t really Eugene
Sherman?” Wendell asked.

Shock, then anger flickered through
Datello’s eyes.  “He was part of Sofia’s abduction, wasn’t
he?”

“There is so much about this that you don’t
know,” Wendell said.  “The only reason I know it is because
Helen told me at Attica before I escaped.”

“You’re going to have to tell me how you
managed that,” Datello said.  “I have a feeling there isn’t a
prison strong enough to keep Uncle Sully incarcerated if he’s ever
convicted.”

Wendell chuckled.  “Does Sully have a
brilliant daughter who would risk her life to set him free?”

Danny’s eyes widened.  “
Helen
broke you out of jail? I thought you said she just got the ball
rolling.”

“She provided the means, put it in my hands
herself.  But making sure no one knew what really happened,
that was my responsibility.  Let’s get back to Eugene
Sherman.  He stole the identity of the real attaché, I’m
afraid.  If you spent any time with the man, perhaps you met a
woman he allegedly employed.  Florence, I believe was the
name.”

Datello nodded.  “Quiet as a church
mouse.  I think that Gene said she was a nurse, an old family
friend, that her mother worked for him for many years and he’d
become fond of the girl, looked after her after her mother
died.”

“Florence claimed that Eugene Sherman owned
her.”

Datello slumped onto the sofa. 
“Owned?”

“This is much bigger than your daughter’s
abduction, Danny.  I’m sorry to say that her kidnapping
probably saved lives.  You see, my Helen uncovered a human
trafficking ring that involved your deep sea fishing business.”

“The hell it did!”

“She was abducted after your alleged murder
and was taken aboard a ship named after your wife, I presume, and
was to be sold, transferred out at sea.”

“Umberto,” Danny hissed.  “That
motherfucker.  I should’ve listened when my man told me that
the discrepancies with
The Celeste
didn’t add up.”

“Well, this Umberto fellow is dead, as is
Andy Gillette, a police detective in Montgomery who was also part
of this flesh peddling business.”

“Helen?”

Wendell grinned.  “They had her chained
to a wall and she still managed to kill both of them.  Of
course Orion found her, he and this agent from the FBI that worked
with Helen for years put it all together and intercepted your
trawler before the transfer took place.”

Danny chuckled.  “She really isn’t
someone you want as an enemy, is she?”

“It was self defense.”

“How’d she manage to kill them if they had
her restrained?”

“She told me that she kicked this Umberto
fellow in the face, shoved his nose bones back into his brain, and
Gillette, well, he thought to have her ankles shackled, which only
aided her in snapping his neck with her leg when he tried to
assault her.”

“Jesus,” Datello said.  “She thinks I
was part of it, doesn’t she?”

“I doubt it.  Not if she’s really
looking after your wife.  I can’t see Helen having anything to
do with your Celeste if she thought you were part of a human
trafficking ring.  On the contrary, I think she’d have made
sure that your daughter was never found, that she grew up in a home
where Helen could be certain she’d be safe from corrupting
influences.”

Datello eyed him suspiciously. 
“Because that’s what you would’ve done, right?”

He nodded curtly.  “Why did you know
Eugene Sherman?”

“I was incensed when I learned that Johnny
Orion was the head of the governor’s task force.”

“OSI,” Wendell said.

“Yes, the agency tasked with a witch hunt,
and me slated front and center for the burning stake.”

“Is that the only reason you hate Johnny
Orion?”

“I already told you I blamed him for letting
a man get away with murdering a fifteen year old girl.”

“But Johnny didn’t do that.  Jerry Lowe
was the murderer.”  Wendell paused and stroked his chin for a
moment.  “I’d like very much to meet Mr. Lowe.  Has he
been tried for murder yet, do you know?  There seems to be
woefully little press information about the man since his
competency hearing.”

“He’s still out at Dunhaven,” Danny
said.  “Mental hospital.”

“The place where Mitch Southerby thought he
would torture my daughter,” Wendell said.  “I wasn’t aware
that was where Lowe was being held.”

“Southerby posed as a hospital
administrator.  Apparently, when Lowe helped him fake his
death after he hinted that he’d never tell the police who hired him
to kill the district attorney, Lowe had him convinced that the file
I had on my uncle was in his possession and would be safe as long
as nothing happened to him.  I suppose Jerry thought Southerby
might return the favor and help
him
escape incarceration
this time.”

“And of course, Southerby was only
interested in getting the incriminating evidence so it could be
destroyed,” Wendell said with another nod.  “Letting Lowe
escape would’ve put him in a very bright spotlight.”

“I suspected that his plan involved a little
more than getting my evidence,” Datello admitted.  “Celeste
and I talked about disappearing rather than returning to Darkwater
Bay after the holidays.  But he called when Helen served the
warrant on Dunhaven and told me that he was going to get the
information one way or another.”

“You came back to stop him.”

Danny hung his head.  “I failed. 
He knew I’d come.  He knew I’d be arrested and blamed for
storming the medical examiner’s office.  Of course, he didn’t
count on Helen arresting him before the rest of that fiasco went
down.  He thought she’d be dead.”

Wendell’s eyes glittered dangerously. 
“And where might Mr. Southerby be housed, Danny?”

A somber gaze met Wendell’s.  “He’s at
Bay County Correctional Facility.  Why?”

“No one threatens to kill my daughter. 
No one.”

“You can’t get to him, Wendell.  He’s
in isolation, just like I was.”

“Wendell Eriksson can’t get to him, or
Melissa Sherman for that matter.  But Father Joseph O’Malley
certainly can.”

“You can’t possibly think that you’d get
away with killing someone inside the county jail.  Look what
happened to the man who tried to kill me.”

“Helen won’t be there to stop me.”

“And you don’t think they’ve tightened up
security since that happened?”

“Even for a priest?” Wendell grinned. 
“Relax, Datello.  I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been
alive.  I should think that you of all people wouldn’t object
to either one of these lowlifes meeting a swift date with
justice.  Both of them threatened you and your family.”

Datello raked a hand through his hair. 
“Is it a tempting proposition?  Of course it is, but Wendell,
I’ve been down that road before.  What if you’re wrong? 
What if Melissa Sherman was a victim of someone’s lies, her
husband’s perhaps?”

The grim determination took him aback, but
was far less chilling than Wendell’s bombshell. 

“On the contrary.  She’s in this up to
her eyeballs.  Did I neglect to mention that Helen believes
Melissa Sherman might be my biological daughter?”

Chapter 13

What the hell have I gotten myself
into?
 

The urge to run as far from Wendell Eriksson
as possible was strong.  Danny’s gut fisted into a tight
knot.  How could a man threaten to kill his own
child? 

He thought of Sofia Helene, the beautiful
baby he’d only seen a single picture of on the day she was
born.  Carlos Stefano brought it on his cell phone and showed
him before Danny even got to speak to his wife, before his sweet
angel had been kidnapped.

“Have I alarmed you?”

“Frankly, yes.  How can you kill one
child…” Datello frowned.  “Your
biological
daughter?  What the hell does that mean?”

“Helen isn’t really mine,” Wendell
said.  His fists clenched until the knuckles drained of blood
and color.  “Apparently, her biological parents had twins, a
son and a daughter, and the daughter was abducted.”

“Jesus,” Danny said.  “Helen?”

“Yes.”

“It’s all part of the same thing, isn’t
it?  That’s what you meant when you said there was a whole lot
about all of this that I didn’t know.  But if they planned to
make me look like the guilty party in all of this, it would be
impossible.  Helen’s what, eleven years younger than I
am?”

“You’d know that better than I would. 
She’ll be thirty-nine in June.”

Danny nodded.  “I was eleven years old
when she was born.  There’s no way I could be part of all of
that.”

Wendell’s chuckle chilled his blood
again.  “I think the point was to nip the investigation in the
bud by making it appear that your daughter was an arranged
adoption.  They didn’t count on Helen uncovering everything
else.  And when it became clear that she was onto much more
than one missing child, they simply decided to mop up the
mess.”

“They tried to kill me.  They abducted
Helen.”

“Your employee, Destiny Gerard, she tried to
blame you too, and then conveniently committed suicide.”

Danny covered his mouth with both
hands.  “This looks really bad, doesn’t it?”

“We’ll find out if Helen is on the right
track in about an hour, Danny.  My faith in her ability to
reason her way through all these lies is unshaken.”

“Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

Danny shook his head lightly.  “You
love her as if she were your own child, don’t you?”

“She
is
my daughter, in every way
that matters, Danny.  Never doubt that.  I loved her from
the moment I laid eyes on her, and I will continue to protect her
and make certain she’s happy until the day I die.  That’s what
fathers do.”  Wendell paused for a moment and regarded Datello
thoughtfully.  “Think about what you did to protect all the
young girls in Darkwater Bay from this Masconi character. 
Would you do any less for your Sofia?”

“No,” Danny said.  “Or for
Celeste.  I’d do anything for either one of them.”

“Including stay away?”

“I…”

“It’s the hardest part.  I’d love
nothing more than to be with Helen every single day, to get to know
my grandsons.  But it’s not possible.  It would put her
in grave danger.”

“Are you saying that I should give up on my
family?”

“No, of course not.  Your situation is
completely different.  At least, for now.  I need to get
ready to meet Helen right now.  You must do exactly as I say,
Danny.  No matter how tempting, you cannot make your presence
known to her.  I’ll talk to Helen and explain what’s going
on.  If Helen reacts as I suspect, the three of us can figure
out what comes next.  Watch for my signal and join us when you
see it.”

I sat in the most secluded booth in Kostas’
restaurant that still allowed me to watch the front door.  As
I predicted last fall, the radical change in the neighborhood since
the arrest of the Jackson drug cartel breathed new life into all
the businesses.  Mr. Kostas was prospering, despite the fact
that his restaurant wasn’t out on Hennessey Island.

The door opened, and a priest stepped
inside.  Mr. Kostas met him with an effusive
greeting. 

“Father O’Malley!  Welcome,
welcome!  You honor us with a visit.”

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. 
The hair was dark, the wrinkles smoothed, but without a doubt, the
priest was my father.  Without thinking, I slid out of the
booth and took three quick steps toward him before I realized I
couldn’t maul my father with hugs and kisses when everyone else
believed he was a priest.

It was laughable!  Of all the disguises
in the world… leave it to Dad to find one not even I would’ve
imagined.

He shook Mr. Kostas’ hand and made a brief
gesture in my direction.

“Ah, you know our angel?  She saved
this neighborhood, Father O’Malley.  Detective Eriksson is
very good woman, very big heart, very good soul.  I am glad
you know her now.”

Wendell smiled and made his way toward
me.  His eyes swept over me in silent assessment.  Yes,
I’ve gained weight since the last time he saw me, most of it in the
growing bulge of my low abdomen.

His smile blinded me.

“You look magnificent, Sprout,” he said in a
low voice.  “I’d give anything for a proper greeting right
now, but it will have to wait.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Daddy.”

“Father,” he corrected quietly.  “No
one will question you calling me Father.  Daddy is a little
too informal, all things considered.”

“What are you doing here?”  We sat down
across the checkerboard table and simply stared for long
moments.  “It’s not safe for you to be on this continent,
Father
.”

He grinned.  “Are priests fair game in
Darkwater Bay too?  I understand it’s open season on
cops.”

“Stop kidding around.  What’re you
doing here?”

“Looking after my flock of course.”

“Hmm,” I frowned.  “A flock of
three?”