6
"No!" Christy cried, feeling her heart leap into her throat. "That's not possible!" They sat together on the front seat of her Mercedes, parked along the northern end of Meadow Lake, a peaceful haven hunkered between the roaring ribbons of the LIE, Grand Central Parkway, and the Van Wyck Expressway. Jack had thought it better if he stayed away from her house. He'd said Bolton, and now Dawn, knew what he looked like and either of them seeing him entering or leaving Christy's house would greatly complicate the investigation.
He'd said he had news, but she never dreamed… Jerry Bethlehem… her half brother? It was crazy! "I'm afraid it's true."
She studied Jack's face. Was he up to something? Pulling some sort of sleazy scam?
But no. She sensed genuine reluctance in him. He hadn't wanted to be the one to tell her.
Her tongue tasted like tin.
"But… how?"
"The usual way, I assume."
Not funny.
"No, damn it! Where did you find out? How did you find out? And why did you even check?"
"I knew from my talk with Bethlehem at Work the other day that his father's name was Jonah and that he had one eye."
That rocked her. One eye… her father had worn an eye patch. At least that was what she'd been told. But millions of people had lost an eye.
"So?"
"When I spoke to you yesterday you said your mother told you your father was swallowed by a whale."
And there it was, smacking her in the face.
"Oh, God… Jonah."
He nodded. "Yeah. And since, as I told you, I was looking for some sort of connection between you and Bethlehem, that sent up a bright red flare."
"But you never said anything."
"Because I thought it was such a long shot, I didn't dare. Otherwise you'd have been looking at me like you were a moment ago—ready to call the booby squad."
"But how did you get a sample of—?"
"You left some hair behind at Julio's."
"And Bethlehem?"
"I snagged a spoon from Work."
She couldn't be certain but he seemed a little less sure of himself than before. Was that true? Could you get a DNA sample from a used spoon?
"I still can't believe this. Where's the lab report?"
He looked out the window. "I don't have it."
"What? Then how do you know?"
"Verbal confirmation. Hard copy will follow, but that won't help you. The samples are numbered on the report for confidentiality. Some sort of law."
"Then it could be a mistake."
It had to be a mistake.
He looked at her now. "The guy who did the test told me flat-out that the two specimens I gave him came from people with the same father but different mothers."
Christy closed her eyes and held her breath to keep from sobbing. This was getting worse and worse.
"How can something like this happen? I mean, what are the odds of my half brother coming to town and just happening to pick up on—?" She jolted upright and stared at him. "Unless he knows! Oh, Jesus, do you think he knows?"
"I'm almost sure he does. The odds of this happening by accident are astronomical."
"But why? I knew he was bent, but what possible reason could he have for dating his niece?"
"It has to be something in your past. And since you don't know Bethlehem, the only thing I can think of is some beef with Dawn's father."
No-no-no! she thought. Don't go there! Oh, please don't go there!
"Impossible."
"He could be getting even for something."
"By…" The word fucking sprang to mind but she couldn't bring herself to say it, not when it concerned Dawn. "By going with his own niece?"
"He's a twisted SOB. Who knows what's going on in his head. But the only way I can help you find out is by learning about her father."
"No!"
He looked annoyed and she could understand that. But she couldn't tell him.
"Come on, Christy. Who was he? Was he involved when you disappeared for those weeks?"
She looked at him. "How did you—?" Then she stopped and nodded. "Oh, right. You're a detective. But you're supposed to be investigating Jerry Bethlehem, not me."
"Just putting together all the pieces of this jigsaw you handed me. Now… what about those weeks? Was he involved?"
"Forget it. I don't even want to think about him. It was a terrible—it was the worst time in my life."
"It was bad for everyone in Atlanta around then. The abortionist assassinations, the—"
The abortionist assassinations? Why was he bringing them up?
The missing weeks, the killings, a brother she'd never known existed… too much. Panic blossomed, shutting off her air. Her heart rattled about in her chest, she couldn't breathe, the car was shrinking, closing in on her, pressing Jack closer until—
She yanked on the door handle, pushed it open, and scrambled out.
"Christy!"
"Leave me alone!"
She stumbled, found her feet, and began to run toward the lake.