Forgive Me(103)

“I know. But I’m confused about something.”

“I imagine you’re confused about a lot.”

“There’s really nothing about William Harrington and his Ponzi scheme in any of the archives I’ve searched. Nothing I could find about my dad turning state’s evidence, either.”

Birdsong filtered in through the open kitchen windows and the aroma of Louise’s fresh brewed coffee tickled Angie’s senses.

Walt cleared his throat and pursed his lips. “I don’t know anything about that. My job was to help get your dad a new life, and that’s what I did. We were close in age back then, and well, we just became friends. It was the only time in my career with the Marshals that ever happened to me. I really liked your dad and I empathized with his situation. You were too young to remember anything from that time. It was very tense, very scary for your parents, but I assured them it would get better with time and it did. They built new lives as new people, and we’ve been close ever since. I’m afraid there’s not much more to the story than that.”

Angie leaned forward. “But there is, Walt. How is my mom connected to Isabella Conti?”

“Who?”

Angie took the picture out from her purse and explained all she’d learned about the Contis and what she had shared with her father.

“My dad stole from the Mob and Conti was in the Mob, and somehow this girl is connected to my mother.”

“And what did your dad say?” Walt asked.

“He says he doesn’t know anything. Doesn’t know the girl or how my mom knew her or why she would write forgive me on the back of the photograph.”

Walt made a hmm sound—it was curious to him, got him thinking. “What can I do, Angie?” He sounded earnest.

“What do you remember from that time? About my dad’s business dealings. There’s something there.”

“Why don’t you ask your dad?”

Angie looked again out the window and saw Louise bent over her nascent flower garden weeding without gloves on. The garden wasn’t much to look at now, but it would be glorious in a few more weeks. Louise was quite gifted with plants.

Angie looked back at Walt. “I guess I was hoping you could tell me.” For whatever reason it felt better than saying, “I don’t trust my dad to tell me the truth.”

“Tell you why there wasn’t a trial?”

“It seems to me my dad got a free pass into witness protection. He committed crimes and got away with it.”

“Hardly got away scot-free,” Walt said. “He had to give up his entire life, his family, your mom’s family. It was hardly an easy road.”

Angie couldn’t disagree there. “Okay. And just to reiterate, I don’t hold any of this against you. You were just doing your job.”

“And just to reiterate, I think of you as a niece,” Walt said. “You’re family to me. That’s what’s important. Not a name on a piece of paper.”

Angie thanked him, and didn’t mention that Bao had told her something similar. She got up from the table. “Well, wish me luck, Uncle Walt.”

“Luck with what?”

“I’m going to take your advice and confront my dad again. And this time I’m not going to leave until he tells me the truth once and for all. I’m going to make him go through all of his business dealings until I know everything about his past, and figure out how my mom was connected to Isabella Conti.”

Walt’s expression changed. He looked like someone who’d just remembered where he set down his missing car keys. “You know, you got me thinking. Let me check something for you in my files. Hang on a second. No promises.”

Angie agreed to wait. She drank her water and looked out at the lawn, watching Louise hard at work, thinking about her mother and how much she’d enjoyed gardening.

Angie read e-mails on her phone and the time slipped away without her noticing, but it seemed like he had been gone for a while. She held out hope for a minor miracle, a piece of paper, some sort of official document to explain the unexplainable.

But Walt returned empty-handed. “I’m sorry, Angie. I thought there might have been something in my old files, but I was wrong. My guess is your dad never had a trial. That had happened before. He gave up information and in exchange, no charges were filed.”

Angie gave Walt a big hug. “A friend of mine said the same thing. Thanks for looking, but I’m not giving up. I’ll figure this out with my dad, one way or another.”

Walt held Angie’s shoulders and looked deeply into the eyes. “I have every confidence you will.”





CHAPTER 56



Home again, home again. Angie used her key to go in through the front door. The TV wasn’t on, but then again the Nats weren’t playing. She called out to her dad, knowing he was at home because his Lexus was in the driveway. If he happened to be taking a walk, it would be downstairs on his elliptical in the basement where he had a second television set up.

“Daddy? I need to speak with you,” Angie said, setting her purse on the little desk in the kitchen that had become a catchall for odds and ends.

As she had expected, her father was at home—in the first floor office, judging by the sound of his footsteps.

She was already rummaging through the refrigerator when he came into the kitchen. She needed a bit food to calm what felt like a caffeine overdose, and found a bowl of egg salad on a shelf and half a loaf of bread misplaced in the drawer where the vegetables go. Her mother never would have put the bread there, though she did keep it refrigerated.