Chapter 63

SIXTY-THREE

Ronnie and I sit on the back deck with Vinnie while Lucas talks to Jack. A small crime scene army is spread out on the grounds, working a grid search.

"I think Lucas suspects me," Vinnie says.

"That's crazy," Ronnie responds.

"Is it? You suspected me until we talked. How do you know I'm not lying?"

"You're family," Ronnie says.

She doesn't know how family can betray you. Jack is a dick and a liar and controlling, but I'd swap that for my parents any day.

Vinnie puts a hand on hers. "That doesn't answer my question but thank you for saying that, Ronnie. It means a lot."

"Tell me about you and Mom."

We listen to Vinnie's story about his and Victoria's childhood and hear a different side of Vincenzo Lombardi than I'd heard thus far. Vinnie was changed when he came home. He'd never gotten along with his parents, but he avoided them more often now. And not just his parents: he avoided his friends, his church, and worst of all he avoided Victoria.

Vinnie was injured in Fallujah when he accompanied a SEAL team on a mission as their medic. His injury was such that he was put on painkillers. The addiction gene hadn't missed him. The horrors he saw committed by both sides in Fallujah, coupled with the painkillers, created the depression, PTSD, and paranoia he still experiences to some degree. He'd tried to reach out to Victoria a few years ago when he was in jail.

He'd been sent into war as a na?ve eighteen-year-old, witnessed and participated in atrocities, and when it was over he was sent home, dumped out on society, and didn't know how to live among civilized people. Every time a siren went off, he ducked or dropped to the ground looking for cover. He had night terrors and the Army had made him all better with more drugs, feeding his addiction even further. I'm amazed he didn't implode with everything that he went through, but he'd made some steps toward recovery. He was going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings but found a veterans group that were as messed up as he was. It seems to be helping.

"I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison. Then Vicki saved me. I've never visited her at her house after she was married, but whenever I could get my shit together, we saw each other periodically and she kept me apprised of my nieces. When we got together it was at restaurants and coffee shops and city parks. I thought it was because of my…issues. But then I began to suspect she wasn't unhappy with me. She didn't want your father to see me because he disapproved."

He takes his wallet from his back pocket and pulls some pictures out and shows them to Ronnie. "That's you and Rebecca water skiing. You couldn't have been older than ten." He shows her another. "That's a picture of your mom and me when Victoria graduated from high school." He seems lost in reverie. "Your father must have put pressure on her not to see me. He never came with her and I got the hint."

"Why does my dad want to keep you out of our lives? Did you have a falling out?"

Vinnie doesn't answer. Instead, he shows her another photo. "That's me in Army basic training. Vic and I dreamed of getting out of that house so I picked the Army. It's the only other picture I've managed to keep. If Lucas thinks I had anything to do with Vic's disappearing, he's wrong. I would be more prone to believe she left Jack on her own. She was very unhappy the last few times I talked to her. She always steered the conversation to how I was doing, or her charity work and how proud she was of her girls. She showed me some newspaper clippings of Rebecca joining Jack's law firm and one of you in your uniform. Then there were several of you and Detective Carpenter in the newspapers and on television. Vic said she was happy you'd made a life of your own. She loves you and Rebecca very much."

I'd always thought I had a sucky life. The cause of my bad upbringing was housed in a women's prison, but Ronnie's family was still okay-ish and loved her and wanted good things for her and was proud of what she'd accomplished. My mother wasn't proud of my becoming a detective. Not really. She was only thinking of ways to use me for her benefit. I sincerely doubt she's proud of Hayden either.

I'd asked Hayden how he was doing now that he was living and working in Port Townsend. He'd said, "The grass isn't always greener on the other side. I've seen and done things I'm not proud of. Being here is no different. You carry your monsters with you."

He would never tell me what he'd done, what he'd seen. But I can imagine it must have been bad enough to change the happy boy I remembered into a bitter man. It must be the same for Vinnie. I guess we all have things in our past that have made us who or what we are. Sometimes those things are positive, sometimes scarring, sometimes dangerous to others.

My past has followed me with a vengeance. Twice now I've had serial killers come after me by harming people close to me. They wanted to kill me because I'd ended someone close to them. I'd hoped to spare Hayden from that but what I thought was the right thing to do concerning him had backfired. Ronnie's dad was doing the same thing. Trying to mold his girls into what he thought was good for them. He would one day regret trying to design a life for his girls in his own image; pushing his wife's family out of the picture. I can testify that bad decisions come back and bite you in the ass.