Forgotten Place Read Free Page B

into
obscurity.
    "I'm afraid Datello might have the
connections to pull it off too, Helen.  Like I said, I'm not
aware of the details of Johnny's current investigation, but I do
know that he's been working almost around the clock for the past
few weeks.  No doubt he's feeling the pressure from
Collangelo's end of the hierarchy too."
    "Because if someone isn't arrested on a
charge that will stick, Joe stands to lose a great deal.  I
can't tell you how much that disturbs me."
    "Downey Division, all of Darkwater Bay for
that matter, could sure use you back at a hundred percent,
Helen.  It feels like we're taking a giant step backward after
some very promising progress."
    Amy's foot tapping intruded on something I
would've rather continued to discuss.  "My tormenter is losing
her patience, Zack.  Perhaps we can discuss this more at
dinner Saturday night."
    "I look forward to it."
    We disconnected and Amy huffed, "'Bout damn
time.  Shut the phone off, Helen.  Our time is
finite.  If you want to put those dancing shoes on Saturday
night, we've got a lot of work to do."
    I was a little surprised at how much the
idea appealed to me.  Well, not the dancing part, but getting
my head into something outside pity.  Danny Datello, my
nemesis and the only living part of the equation that ruined my
life, did the trick.  I spent the next forty-five minutes
focused on being obedient and following Amy's directions to the
point that it roused her suspicions.
    "I thought you weren't really interested in
this party Saturday night."
    "Hmm?"
    "Sure sounded like your friend had to twist
your good arm to talk you into it.  Why the sudden change of
heart?"
    "You were persuasive that it would be good
for me."
    "Ha!" she barked.  "You don't listen to
a thing I say or follow a single direction because I ask you to do
it.  What's the real motivation here?"
    "Can you keep a secret?"  That was a
joke.  Darkwater Bay, for the level of corruption it has and
its dirty underbelly, is filled with people who couldn't hold a
confidence to save their lives.  Exhibit A, Batshit Crazy,
drug dealer of massive moron caliber who died because he admitted
that a dead undercover cop frequented Uncle Nooky's bar.
    "Sure!"
    "I've got to get back to work."
    The twinkle in her eyes died, the shoulders
deflated.  "Is that all?  Here I thought there was some
great romance about to bud."
    I couldn't remember the last time I laughed
and meant it.  As it turned out, Amy's dark humor lifted my
spirits and became a turning point in therapy.  I felt better
than I had in weeks, goals meant something to me again.  Goals
that didn't involve erasing my identity.
    With high spirits, I left therapy with a
sincere promise not to overdo at home and continue to give my best
effort through the duration of physical therapy. 
    "This may come back to bite me in the butt,
Helen, but I think I believe you meant that."
    I wasn't sure how I felt about giving off an
aura of dishonesty no matter what I said, no matter how long the
audience had known me.  It was a conscious decision to chalk
it up to her smart ass sense of humor.
    The Expedition was parked on the sixth level
of the hospital garage.  My brain was on Datello, a little bit
on Orion and how much he probably hated me for being the reason his
cover was blown.  After all, it was one thing to come out of
the undercover cop closet with a payoff being the undying love of
the woman whose life you saved.  It was another to be
unceremoniously thrown out on your ass.
    Suddenly it made sense.  His absence
had nothing to do with respecting my wishes.  Johnny found
himself in the unenviable position of having no choice but keep his
mouth shut and walk away.  To do otherwise would incriminate
him in a crime as felonious as mine had been. 
    Tiny pangs of regret pricked my heart, not
just for another shot at putting Datello behind bars slipping
away.  Guilt almost propelled my cell phone into my hand,
tempted me to dial a