Bay of Deception Read Free

will do just fine!” he snapped, then took a breath.  “Look, Mrs. McKenny, I’m here because Chief Williams,” who I’d like to kill right now, he thought to himself , “...said you might be ready to press charges against your husband.  Is that true?” 
    She said nothing, her smirk now gone and hugged her legs tighter.  After a full minute of silence, she shifted around to stare at a spot on the wall behind her, then turned back toward him.
    “I was seated right where you are and the drunk bastard picked me and threw me like a stuffed doll,” she said.  Her voice was now thick with anger and Oliver saw where fresh paint had been applied over new drywall. 
    “My head went right through, Officer Peidmont,” her chin now pushed forward.  “I’m told that if I'd hit a wooden stud, I wouldn’t be here today.”  He made a quick estimate and guessed she'd been thrown close to ten feet. 
    “If my neighbor hadn't called you cops...” She stopped, then looked straight at him.  “The newspaper said you beat your wife, Officer Piedmont.  Said you tried to kill her, but now supposedly it was all just one big mistake.”  She laughed and shook her head.  “Is it just me, or do you see the irony of a wife-beating cop trying to convince me to press charges against my abusive husband?” 
    Weariness swept over him and he closed his eyes. 
    “You shouldn’t believe...”
    “I DON’T!” 
    Her shout pulled his eyes open and he saw tears beginning to spill down her flushed cheeks.  He suddenly felt like a first class heel.
    “Look, Officer Peidmont,” she said, wiping her right cheek with the back of her hand. “You're asking me to trust you and that's not something I’m not very good at lately.  Before I can do that, you’ve got to convince me there’s something to trust in .”
    For a full minute he debated, arguing the wisdom of telling a total stranger what he’d revealed only to Donetelli.  Caution won out and he rose off the couch, wearily.
    “Mrs. McKenny, when you’re ready to press...”
    “That’s all right, Officer Peidmont,” she cut him off briskly.  “I figure you cut some deal with the men downtown and I’m not eager to get chewed up by your ‘Good-Ol-Boy’ network.  What’s it matter that your wife nearly died.” 
    He felt his face redden and suddenly his lungs lost power to pull in anything, the air around him seemed thick as molasses.  Not trusting himself to speak, he sat down again and stared at this damaged, beautiful woman and it seemed she sensed a line had been crossed.  Her eyes softened and after a moment, she looked away.  
    It was another full minute before Oliver felt his breathing return to its steady familiar rhythm, silence filling the room about them as it did so.  He could sense a chasm of distrust between them and knew only one way to bridge it.
    After a nearly inaudible sigh, he finally spoke. 
    “I’m...willing to tell you what happened, Mrs. McKenny, on the condition that you’ll seriously consider pressing charges against your husband."  He paused as she considered this. "Agreed?” he asked
    “I’m listening,” she responded after a pause, her tone skeptical. 
    He leaned back and debated where to begin, finally choosing the only place he could. 
    “I met my wife, Linda, when I was a few weeks out of the police academy over in Brooklyn, New York ...”
    “Listen, officer Piedmont,” she interrupted.  “I love a good story like the next girl, but do I really need to hear about your entire marriage?” 
    The urge to simply walk out swept over him, but he fought against it. 
    “Mrs. McKenny,” he said, struggling to keep his tone even, and failed.  “ You wanted to know why I was the one who arrived on your doorstep.”  He stood as if to leave. “Do you, or don’t you?”
    “Sure...why not?”  She replied sarcastically, lifting both hands. “I’ve got all afternoon.”  
    He took a deep breath, sat down once