And yet I worried those very vibrant things would be crushed by the fact that she was missing and I couldn’t find her.
My old man and Declan were going to watch Mickey’s floral shop for unusual activity. I’d talked over with my old man the possibility of Mickey resurrecting the Dorchester Heights Gang. Just like Frank, he highly doubted it. Said Mickey had lost his drive when his gang folded. What he was going to do, though, was visit Patrick. It was doubtful he’d tell my old man anything but on the off chance he would, it was worth the visit.
Then there was O’Shea. He’d cut loose yesterday after we left. Turns out he went home. The monitoring device that Miles had left in his office didn’t give us shit. He didn’t so much as sneeze before he left.
The videos from his computer, though—fuck, I couldn’t block them out no matter how hard I tried.
In them, it was O’Shea and Lizzy and a second man, but that man was never the same. One video was with Derrick, and what he’d told us about his encounter was true. The hotel rooms were always different but Michael was always sitting in a chair, watching, and then praying. Some verse about bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other. Miles looked it up. It was Colossians 3:13, a scripture on forgiveness.
Perhaps forgiving adultery?
I had no idea.
The videos had all been taped within a one-week time span.
Regardless of the date, they all played out the same. O’Shea sat in his suit. Lizzy turned the camera on and opened the door, where a man would be standing. He’d go in and they’d get right to it. The fucking was different, but her face the same—saddened. When it was over, the hired escort would leave, O’Shea would take Lizzy’s hand, and they would pray. Then the camera would turn off.
It was like some kind of test.
Only once did the camera remain on after the little prayer session, and it appeared as if it was left on by accident.
Lizzy stood beside Michael and reached to turn the camera off, but it didn’t turn off.
He took her in his arms.
“No more,” she cried.
He kissed her head. “This was the last time. I promise.”
“I can see Clementine now?”
He shook his head.
“Michael, please, you promised.”
“It’s not my choice. He doesn’t think you’re ready.”
“But I did what you asked.”
“That’s just it. You didn’t pass.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you see? You aren’t strong enough to fight off the evil. You shouldn’t have fucked those men.”
“But you told me to!”
His eyes glassed over. “Turn it back on—he’ll know we talked.”
“What’s this about?”
“Turn it on.”
She reached again but the camera didn’t turn off. She had to be doing it on purpose—like she planned to use it for it something. Then she went back to stand beside him.
Once again, he took her into his arms, but this time he asked, “Do you feel repentant?”
She raised her chin, but not in defiance, more in resoluteness. “Yes.”
“Do you still want to fuck other men while married to me?” he asked.
“No, Michael, I don’t want to. I love you.”
“Then why do you?”
She stared at him.
“Tell me!”
“You told me to,” she cried.
“But I didn’t tell you to fuck Tommy while you were married to me and you did.”
“I said I was sorry. I’ve said it so many times. I don’t love him. I love you.”
“Are you sure?”
Just then there was a knock on the door.
Neither moved to answer it.
“Open the door, Michael, it’s time for me to take her back.”
“No,” Lizzy cried.
And Michael seemed to be crying too.
It was then that he shut the camera off.
Everything about it disturbed me. Him, Elle’s sister, the random johns, the praying, the demands, and the guy behind the door. After seeing the videos, I couldn’t even discuss them. My stomach had lost its contents more than once last night and my nerves were on the brink of being fried.
He was one fucked-up person.
And Elle was tied to him in a way I couldn’t sever.
Knock. Knock.
I turned the water off. “Yeah.”
“O’Shea just got a call from the Sudbury Police Department. The Mercedes turned up abandoned near the old Fort Devens Annex early this morning.”
“The wildlife refuge?”
“Yeah, that’s the place.”
“I’ll be right there,” I yelled.
“I’ll be in the car,” Miles said.
Like lightning, I bolted out of the shower. I didn’t bother to dry off before I put my clothes on.
My heart thundered in my chest. I hadn’t asked him if . . . I let the thought hang there where it was.
Outside, Miles was in his car. An old Mach One Mustang. I wasn’t sure what year it was, but I knew it was older than my old man’s Porsche.
I hopped in without hesitation. “Any sign of Elle?” I asked, worry clear in my voice.
He gunned it and the engine roared. “No. I called an old buddy on the force in Sudbury; no signs of anyone, anywhere.”
I took a deep breath.
“I also called Blanchet.”