Bay of Deception (22 page)

Jeffers opened his mouth, struggled to reply and finally gave up, his face pasty white.

She turned back to Oliver, and instinctively, he stood up from his chair.  She tucked her small pistol in her skirt, then pushed his coat off his shoulders.  Without hesitation, she ripped open his shirt and sent buttons everywhere.  Her eyes grew wide at the small, but sophisticated listening device taped to the inside of his bullet proof vest, the small microphone visible. 

Oliver leaned forward, drawing the device nearer to the stricken woman. 

“Say hello to Chief Dawson and Chief Williams, Ms. Thompson.”  He grinned. "As well as some interested government agencies who loaned us this new hi-tech toy.”  In retrospect it was a mistake to volunteer this since Ms. Thompson’s pupils shrunk to the size of pinheads as he spoke these words. 

In a clarity of mind he’d seldom experienced, Oliver watched the delicate looking pistol reappear in Thompson's hand, even as the sound of cops thundered down the hallway toward their location.  Oliver sat transfixed as with a wild shriek of rage, Ms. Thompson spun about, firing every last bullet within her small weapon into Paul Jeffers' chest.

“If there’s one thing I
cannot
tolerate,” Ms. Thompson stated calmly, just before what seemed like every cop on the Monterey Peninsula, burst into the room. " ...it is an incompetent man!
"

Nine o’clock the following morning Oliver headed to Community Hospital, located on the hill which separated Monterey and Carmel.  Surrounded by a forest of pines, he  hunted for a parking space that wouldn’t require a ten minute hike.  Five minutes later he was still circling the hospital parking lot and in frustration, pulled into a space at its far corner.  With a grumble that was part sigh, he began the walk toward the hospital and Jenny. 

He was nearly there when a southern voice called out.  “Oliver!  Oliver, dear!” 

He turned to see Dr. Alicia Merrill, hurrying toward him.

“Alicia, hello!” he said.  “How are you?”

She halted before him, her breath somewhat ragged.

“Tired, Oliver,” she replied.  “More tired than you can possibly know.”

“Let me guess," he said,  “Collin McKinney?”

After several more deep breaths, Dr. Merrill took his arm and they continued toward the hospital entrance.

“He’s an amazing person, Oliver, a fascinating case study, really.”

Oliver snorted.

“If you say so but if it were anybody but you, Alicia, I’d say he was playing you for the fool.” 

She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and graced him with a weary smile.

“It’s very difficult to fake Multiple Personality Disorder for long, Oliver.  It’s exhausting to observe and I assure you, even more exhausting to fake.”  As they neared the hospital, she slowed her steps and they halted just outside the main entrance.  “Actually, I believe you were the first to meet Phillip?”

“Phillip?” 

She pulled him toward a nearby bench, the hospital's fountain splashing in the background. 

“Phillip is the emerging personality," she explained patiently.  "He is the individual who surfaced in my office yesterday and the one you met, following his repeated shocks with the taser.  He’s also the one who called you at the hospital yesterday, claiming to be your brother.” 

Oliver gaped at the doctor.  “That wasn’t Collin?”

“No,” she laughed.  “Though it was a good imitation of his counterpart, I must say." 

Shaking his head in amazement, Oliver asked what seemed the obvious question.

“So how did Collin create this Phillip and why?”

“Those are very good questions, Oliver!”  Dr. Merrill sat back against the bench. 

“
Why
?” he asked with a smile, taking the bait.

“Because Phillip claims to be the core personality,” she replied, one eyebrow raised.

“What does that mean?" Oliver asked with a laugh.  "Minus the psycho-babble,
please
?”

“Well, if true, it means that Phillip existed first and that
Collin
was the created personality, apparently to deal with severe trauma in his younger boyhood.”

Oliver suddenly understood why, at times, he’d felt a strange compassion for Collin.  “Boyhood trauma, eh.  Pretty bad?” 

“According to Phillip, his father abused him in every way imaginable.  Murdered his mother right in front of him when he was thirteen and just telling me about this brought Collin to the surface for several hours.”  She shook her head sadly. “His case affirms the old adage, ‘Sadists are made, not born.'”

Oliver thought about this as Dr. Merrill stood to leave. 

“So what happens to Collin or Phillip or whoever he is now?”  he asked, standing. 

“I won’t bore you with the details, Oliver dear,” she winked.  “The two personalities will have to go through a fusion process, because whether they like it or not, they exist in a single body.”  She sighed again, her tiredness and age suddenly evident.  “It will take a long,
long
time and the success rate for such a treatment is not impressive.  But I have hope.” 

Dr. Merrill adjusted her coat to the other arm.  “Well, Oliver, I must go see my patient.  He’s here for the next seventy-two hours for his own protection and I must work to strengthen Phillip’s hold, in order for him to stay present longer.  Needless to say, Collin is not terribly happy about this turn of events.” 

Both smiled sadly as they stepped through the hospital entrance, bid each other good-bye and walked in opposite directions.

Oliver walked into Jenny’s room as two nurses finished replacing the bandages to her abdomen.  Lying on the bed and looking slightly pale from the process, Jenny sent him a smile nonetheless.

“Hey, Mr. Detective!” She waved him closer as the nurses cleaned up and left.  “Gossip around here says you caught the bad guys with their pants down and more than a few things exposed.” 

Pulling the chair near to the bed, Oliver sat and took her hand in his.  “You’ve been talking to Wanda, and she’s been talking to Willy.” 

“Guilty as charged," she said with a slight wince. “What’s my sentence?”

He stood up and kissed her lightly on the lips.  “Very severe, a whole lot of these.” 

“With such punishment,” she laughed after returning his kiss.  "I’ll become the subject of town gossip.”

“Justice must be served, my dear,” he responded laughing as he sat down again.  “But yes, your ‘sources’ spoke the truth.  We bagged a bigger fish than we’d hoped and right this minute, a veritable gaggle of federal agents are combing every inch of JenelCo.  I’m sure you’ve heard that Jeffers is dead, shot by one of Jenel’s compatriots and now she and Jack Sullivan now sit in my former cell.  She, for murder and his involvement with JenelCo.  Agent Benson was whisked away in handcuffs late last night by a suspicious looking jet that flew into the Monterey airport and flew out fifteen minutes later.  All very hush, hush." ”

She grinned impishly.  “So how’d you manage all this?”

“Well, actually,” he said.  “Two people made it happen and you’ll be surprised to hear that Collin was one of them...sort of.”

“Collin?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” Oliver began stroking her hand.  “He told me about Benson, who it turned out, was working for JenelCo.”

“Why’d you say sort of?”

“Jenny," Oliver paused before speaking.  “What do you know about Collin’s childhood?”

Apparently surprised by the question, she hesitated.  “Well, actually, not much considering I was married to the guy.  He was given up for adoption and raised in foster care.  He’d get real mad if I brought it up, which naturally wasn’t often.” 

“Did he ever say anything...?” Oliver shifted in the chair, “about his mother or father?” 

“No.” Jenny slipped her hand free of his and adjusted the bed upward slightly, as if on a beach recliner.  “He said he couldn’t remember much before twelve or thirteen, something about a fall.”  Her eyes narrowed. “why?”

“I..."  He fell silent, unsure of how to proceed. I really can’t answer that, Jenny, but I’ll bring somebody by who can.”

Jenny bristled.  “Oliver, don’t you dare...”

“Believe me,” he said emphatically.  “You’ll understand why, when you know.  The other person,” he said changing the subject, "who helped bring JenelCo down was Benson’s partner.”

Though obviously irritated, she nonetheless took the bait.  “Who?”

“A guy by the name of Thomas Flanders, an FBI agent in his own right who was sent to help Benson with his investigation.   As it turns out, it was your friend, Carol, who approached the FBI about the goings on at JenelCo, not the other way around.  Unfortunately, they assigned Benson to her and by then, he was already working for JenelCo.”

“So Carol wasn’t an FBI agent like Benson claimed?" Her face grew sad. 

“No, just a citizen concerned over some things she’d stumbled onto.” 

“For the last four months,” Oliver continued, “Benson’s had Flanders running all over the state on false leads.  On Thursday, he tried to pin the fire at Carol’s house on Willy Johnson, even though Flanders saw the blaze start only minutes after Benson left the garage.  That was enough to confirm Flanders' suspicions and the next day he reported them to his superiors in San Francisco. 

“Once I learned about Benson’s relationship with JenelCo, I called my own friends in the FBI down in LA.  After comparing notes, they agreed to fly up some special high-tech equipment to eavesdrop on the goings on at JenelCo, and for once, everything fell into place at just the right time.” 

He took her hand once again, staring at its perfect softness.  “By the way, all charges against you were dropped.”

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Chief Williams came by earlier.  He has a really nice wife, by the way. I
really
like her.” 

Oliver smiled incredulously. “Chief Williams came by earlier?”

“Yeah," Jenny yawned. "Around seven this morning.” 

“On a Saturday morning," he shook his head. "The man
does not
sleep!
”

“You look like you could use a little yourself, my dear.” 

“I got a few hours, once all the excitement died down.”

The door behind him squeaked slightly.

“Hello there, Lover Boy!”  Wanda called as she bustled into the room.  “Stopped by to see your sweetheart, I see.”

“Hello Wanda,” he said turning.  “I heard you’ve been gossiping.” 

Wanda began to change the bag of fluid on Jenny’s IV.  “Gossiping is a sin, Detective and I only speak what is true-you might say I'm spreading the good news.  Besides, Willy is my favorite nephew and we talk most every day.  Just so happens we
talked
this morning
.”  

“I stand corrected,” he said, laughing.

“You got that right!" Wanda gave him a quick single nod, then came around and pulled at the chair beneath him.  “You stand right this minute, young man and let my Jenny girl get some sleep!” 

Jenny groaned but said nothing.

Oliver stood as requested and pushed his chair to the corner.  “Wanda, why is it that every time I come in here, you ask me to leave?”

Wanda gave him a big smile.

“Because you don’t come during visiting hours like everybody else.  You’re sweet on my Jenny and she needs somebody like you, so I go ahead and let you in for a couple minutes.”  She finished hanging the new bag and tossed the old one into the disposal slot in the corner. 

“Besides, you
don’t
want to know how I’d treat you if I
didn’t
like you.”  Jenny laughed as Wanda shot him a slight wink before slipping out the door.

Oliver chuckled, “Glad I got the official seal of approval.”

“So am I,” she yawned again.

He leaned closer. “Especially since I intend to marry you someday.” 

Her eyelids began to droop. “
Someday
?”

Oliver laughed. “We’ve a few spouses to let go of, remember?”

Slowly, her eyes became slits, then closed completely. 

“I will, if
you
...
will
,” she said dreamily, her breath slowing before settling into the steady rhythm of sleep. 

He watched her then, thinking of the last five days, his three month trial and of Linda, and their failed marriage.  After a long while, he slowly leaned forward and gently kissed her sleeping lips.

“
Done
,” he whispered.

Oliver parked in front of his house on David Avenue, walked halfway to his door before remembering the mail.  He did an about face toward the mailbox just inside his fence. It seemed ages since he’d had a chance to concern himself with such a mundane thing as mail and not surprisingly, found the box near to overflowing. 

Inside the house, he sat at the kitchen table sorting through the pile of junk mail, credit card offers and the inevitable monthly bills.  Near the bottom, he found a postcard of The Statue of Liberty and pushed aside the remaining pile. 

Turning the card over, he immediately recognized Vincent Donetelli’s expansive scrawl and began to read:

Ollie,

What a trip out!  Made it in less than six days, driving Betty crazy the whole way.  We’ve met a few long lost relatives in the last couple of days, over in the Bronx. Not a surprise Donetellis do well on both coasts!  Betty sends her love and says to take care of yourself.  Hope all is well.

Vince

P.S.  I know life’s probably been pretty boring your first week back.  Hang on, a little excitement’s bound to cross your path, eventually!

Oliver chuckled as he read this, then laughed aloud thinking about the last week and all that took place.  Without a doubt, he'd laugh at this postcard for a
long, long
time to come.