Beautiful Lies

thirty-six

It’s like I said before. The universe doesn’t like secrets. It conspires to reveal the truth, to lead you to it. As easy as it might have been for me to accept Alexander Harriman’s deal and walk away, the universe just didn’t allow it. Harriman had said Project Rescue had grown into something Max couldn’t control. Turned out it had grown into something Alexander Harriman couldn’t control, either.

Closure. We all seek it. We seek the end of things and also the beginning of new things. Those things we can’t find closure on, they haunt us. They pop up in our dreams, they creep into our thoughts in idle moments, like a mind-bender that’s beyond our mental capacity, a mystery that just won’t be solved. I think about Teresa Stone, my biological mother, fighting to save her child and losing her life in the process. I think about Christian Luna with his thousand regrets and failed attempt at redemption. I think about Max, my father, and all the crimes he committed in his quest to heal himself through “helping” others. I think about all the rest of those parents, their children’s faces on the back of mailers and milk cartons. Those awful age-graduated composites, what they’d look like five, six, ten years after they’d gone missing, showing up in mailboxes, in cafeterias. Maybe some of those people deserved to lose their children, maybe some of them didn’t. But I’m willing to bet that for every Project Rescue baby out there, there’s a haunted soul. For Jessie, it was Christian Luna. For Charlie, it was Linda McNaughton.

If I had done as Harriman asked, the people responsible for that pain would have continued on with their days; people like Zack and Esme would continue making judgments and playing God with strangers’ lives, never having a moment of guilt or pain. But my life would have been populated with the ghosts of the people I’d failed to help, Jake chief among them.

Speaking of helping people, it was Gus Salvo who saved us that night in the condemned building. He’d had a tail on Angelo Numbruzio because of the shell casings they found at the scene of Christian Luna’s murder. When the cop watching Numbruzio discovered that he had contacted Zack and was headed for my building, Detective Salvo put the pieces together…a little on the slow side maybe, but just in time at least.

In the fall, Jake had broken his right leg and left arm and punctured his lung. He’d severely strained his back but all the vertebrae were intact. The bullet that had pierced my thigh had missed the major artery. It’s the little things, remember? A fraction of an inch and I wouldn’t be here to tell you what happened to us.

When I regained consciousness at St. Vincent’s Hospital, Gus Salvo was the first thing I saw. Not pretty, but better than a lot of things I’d seen recently.

“Where’s Jake?” I asked, my heart filling with panic, remembering the last moments we were together.

“He’s fine,” he said kindly. “Well, he’ll be fine.”

He pulled his chair close to me and held my hand. He told me the extent of Jake’s injuries and that he was within hopping distance of my hospital room.

“Don’t worry, Ridley. It’s all over now.”

I looked at him and knew it wasn’t true.

“Then why are you here, Detective Salvo?”

He sighed and looked past me. “I should wait till you’re feeling better, Ridley, I know that. But…”

“But?”

“I have to know where you come down on this. The men who chased you tonight are in custody. I believe that one of those men killed Christian Luna. Remember I told you about Angelo Numbruzio, how I was able to tie him to the shooting at the diner? We have him on a surveillance tape from the gun store in Florida that sold the assault rifle that killed Christian Luna.

“We can’t prosecute him without your testimony, not effectively. And if we move forward with it, everything about your past, about Project Rescue, is going to come out. I know you’re afraid for your family, but I have to tell you Zack and Esme Gray are making a deal with the DA. It’s all coming out, anyway.”

I didn’t say anything, just looked past him to the hallway. Alexander Harriman was dead. Obviously, the deal I had with him was not going to be honored by the people who killed him. They’d already tried to kill me. I knew I didn’t have any power to protect anyone any longer. Maybe I never did.

“I’ll testify, Detective Salvo. I’ll testify for Christian Luna. But I can’t testify about Project Rescue.” We looked at each other. “I can’t testify against Max or Esme.”

He nodded. “Ridley, you were only a baby. You shouldn’t have to testify if that comes to trial. You’re the victim in that case, not a witness.”

The fact hit home hard. Detective Salvo held my hand and let me cry. I cried for Teresa Stone. I cried for Christian Luna. I cried for Max. And, yes, I cried for all the pieces of myself that I had lost.

Later that night, I hobbled from my room trailing my morphine drip (which was probably the reason I was able to hobble at all) to find Jake. The duty nurse was helpful rather than mean and officious. She put me in a wheelchair and took me to him herself. He was groggy but lifted his good hand to me as soon as he saw me.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to me, his words slurring a bit. Doubtful. I could taste my own teeth.

“You’re high,” I said, and started to giggle. I was a little high myself, but through it I was starting to feel the dull throb of my leg.

His right leg and left arm were both in casts. His face was bruised, his muscular chest wrapped tight with bandages. I’d never seen anyone more gorgeous in my life.

“You should go back to bed,” he said, taking my hand.

“I will,” I said. “I just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone anymore. I’m with you.”

I kissed his hand then and he touched my face. He smiled and I could see one tear trapped in the corner of his eye, but he blinked away at it hard.

“I love you, Jake…or whatever your name is.”

He started to laugh and then groaned at the pain it caused. I stayed with him until he fell asleep, which wasn’t long. And then the nurse wheeled me back to my room.