Dear Santa Part 19

"We'll talk on the way back to town," he said, reaching behind him to open the door.

"We can take my car." "But I drove here," she said.

"Gus will bring your car to my place."

"Gus?"

"The guy who caught you climbing the wall."

Vic had opened the door. He took Katherine's arm to lead her out into the foyer, but she stood her ground.

"If this Gus drives my car into town, how will he get back here?" she asked.

"Don't worry about that," Vic said.

"Guys like Gus are very resourceful."

And what about guys like you ? She would have liked to ask, but the maid had arrived with a pair of new stockings, still in their package.

"Why don't we take these with us," he said, relieving the maid of the package.

"We'll say our goodbyes now."

Despite her questions and misgivings, Katherine followed Vic toward the living room to take their deceptively polite leave of this bewildering place. She was too eager to hear Vic's story to do otherwise.

Chapter Twenty What Vic hadn't understood till this very minute was one of the reasons he'd never told this story to anyone. He didn't really know how. He'd wanted to grab Katherine in his arms and kiss her when they were alone in his parents' mansion. He didn't follow through on his instincts, and not because he was afraid she would push him away. She might do that, but he'd try again till she melted against him and returned his kiss with the pa.s.sion he knew well from last night. He hadn't put his arms around her because he was holding himself back from that closeness, the closeness that would bring him to this minute, when he'd have to tell his story.

The time had come anyway. Maybe it was bound to happen. Maybe all these years of being alone at least as an adult, had been about knowing this minute would come and putting it off as long as he could. So, why stop putting it off now? Katherine was the answer to that one. He cared about her more than he cared about keeping himself safe from hard-to-handle feelings. He cared about her, and he didn't want to lose her and go back to being alone again. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. When he began to talk, his voice was husky with emotion.

"We didn't always live in that house," he said, not sure why he'd chosen to lead off with this statement. He could feel Katherine's quiet attention as he talked.

"We were in Troy till I was almost twelve."

He took the turn off Crumitie onto Route 9 more slowly than was usual for him.

"I was told later that my father got out of the businesses he was into when we left Troy."

"What businesses were those?" she asked softly. "Not-so-legal businesses," he said.

Vic saw her nod out of the corner of his eye as he kept his gaze deliberately on the road ahead.

"After Troy, my father supposedly went strictly legit, as the saying goes. Mostly, investing and real estate. He did very well, as you can see from the way they live, but what got him his start was the money he made in the rackets."

"What kind of rackets?"

"Gambling, for the most part," he said.

"That's what I was told anyway when I got old enough to put two and two together, around eleven or so. Hints of things I didn't really want to believe. By the time I was sixteen, I had a pretty clear idea what was going on."

"You said your father had..." Katherine hesitated. He could imagine how hard she was trying to pick just the right words.

"You said he'd changed his line of work by then," she began again.

"What made you think he'd been doing something illegal before that?"

"He still had a lot of the same friends. They'd come around the new house, especially at this time of year. My mother puts on a big Christmas Eve party every year. It would be wall-to-wall mobster city in there. Even a kid like me could figure that out, especially with the way they had their palookas lined up outside the house supposedly to guard the limos but really to keep an eye out for cops or reporters."

* "Are you sure that's what was going on? Maybe they were only wealthy businessmen with bodyguards."

Vic glanced out the side window. They were driving past some very expensive real estate right now, high-cla.s.s houses lived in by high-cla.s.s people. He could understand why Katherine might have a hard time putting this kind of' neighborhood together with the idea of career criminals. What he was saying had to come across to her as way too far-fetched to be true.

He shrugged as he turned his attention back to the road in front of them.

"I know what those guys were about no matter how crazy it may sound," he said.

"They were hoods in high-priced suits, nothing more, nothing less."

"How can you be so certain of that?"

He could tell she was trying to help him out, doing her level best to give him a way off the hook. Her caring and concern for him struck him in a place very close to his heart.

"I know you want to make all of this easier on me," he said, "and that's very nice of you. But, the truth is, I can be sure I'm right about my father because he proved to me that I was."

"How did he do that?"

"By what he didn't say the day I confronted him with what I suspected about his history."

Vic had stopped taking advantage a long time ago of opportunities to crawl off the hook of the truth about his family. Still, he would have preferred to find at least a little of the escape artist in himself right now. The thought of this cla.s.sy woman hearing the real scoop about the down-and-dirty background he came from was almost more than he could stand.

"What was it that your father didn't say to you?" she asked.

He sighed.

"First of all, he didn't say I was wrong about the things I was accusing him of. He also didn't say I was right. That's my dad straight down to the ground. Don't explain, don't complain. He used to say that a lot. He has some very strong principles.." for a crook. "

He could hear the bitterness in his voice, and how fresh that bitterness sounded, even after all these years.

"Was your father ever convicted of any of these crimes you suspect him of committing?"

"Not convicted. In fact, he was never even formally charged. He had big-time connections in high places all over Rensselaer County. The cops didn't dare lean on him too hard. Still, they had their eye on him. They'd have loved to catch him at something, I'm sure, but he was too smart to get caught. That's also my dad straight down to the ground. He's a smart guy through and through, and he knows how to take care of business."

That was why Vic had gone to Loudonville today, though he didn't like admitting it even to himself. Today he needed the help of somebody who could take care of business.

"Do you know these things for absolute fact?"

"I found out for an absolute fact when I got a little older and was stupid enough to start asking around about joining the police force myself. Lucky for me, I guess, a cop I knew clued me in before I could make a total fool of myself by actually putting in an application to the police academy. He told me that, as long as I had the last name Maltese, I had about a s...o...b..ll's chance in h.e.l.l of getting into a station house for anything except maybe to stand in a lineup."

"Maybe you should have put in that application anyway. That policeman friend of yours could have been wrong."

Vic kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. The last thing he needed right now was to look over and see the sympathy on Katherine's face.

He was having a hard enough time listening to it in her voice.

"I'm better off where I ended up. Working at the center, I mean," he said.

"I don't have to be proving myself to' everybody all the time."

"Except maybe to yourself."

"Why do you say that?" he asked as they headed onto North Pearl Street.

"Because I can hear you doing it right now. I can hear you being ashamed, as if you were the one who did something you should be punished for. I think you ought to let up on yourself a little."

"The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. Or maybe it's the acorn.

Isn't that what they always say?"

"They say a lot of things. More often than not, they aren't worth listening to. I say you are a good man."

Vic had pulled up at the stop sign where North Pearl Street meets Livingston Avenue. They were back in the city of Albany now, only a few blocks from the Arbor Hill Center. Maybe that was why he'd suddenly become aware of the tightness of his throat and of his fingers on the steering wheel. He was back in his own territory.

Loudonville might be only a few miles down the road, but it was really a universe away as far as Vic was concerned.

He'd been right about how much it would bother him to tell this story. The words had left him in a rush, leaving a dark place of hurt behind. What he hadn't antic.i.p.ated was that, along with the hurt, came release and relief.

More than that though, he knew it was what Katherine had just said that made him feel freer inside himself than he had since he couldn't remember when. He turned to look at her and saw proof of her belief in him s.h.i.+ning out of her beautiful eyes. He wondered what he'd done to get so lucky.

He didn't want to return to the center just yet, didn't want to be separated from Katherine at all. And, in spite of his tangled emotions where his family was concerned, he had the troubles of another family to worry about, too. Katherine readily agreed to a detour to Tooley's neighborhood to look for Coyote. Though they spent the better part of an hour cruising the streets, they found no sign of the boy. Obviously, Coyote was too street-smart and too scared to come out of hiding. When Katherine said she'd informed the police about the situation, Vic told her she'd made the right decision.

As they made their final trip past Tooley's apartment building, he looked at his watch and swore. He'd completely forgotten what day it was.

"I have a favor to ask of you," he said when Katherine looked at him in concern.

"What would that be?"

"I told you about the open house I have every holiday season. The party's this afternoon, and I could use some help putting it on."

"This afternoon! Aren't you cutting last-minute planning a little close to the last second?"

Vic laughed and was relieved to hear he still could. "I'm not quite as bad as all that. The food's taken care of. Sandra Thomas, from the center, caters for me every year. The part that isn't quite nailed down yet is the decorating. I need a hand with that before people start showing up."

Katherine reached across the seat and touched his arm. "My hand is yours," she said.

His heart leapt so hard, and so unexpectedly, in his chest that he had to brace himself against the impact. He might have sat there grinning goofily at her all day if a horn blast from behind hadn't reminded him he had to make a right turn and take them both home.

THE PROBLEM of Coyote and Sprite Bellaway stayed in Katherine's mind even as she helped Vic decorate for the party. It was still with her as they greeted his guests at the door.

She would never have guessed she'd end up hostes sing Vic's holiday open house, but here she was doing exactly that. She was glad she'd worn a dress and high-heeled boots today, after all. A few minutes in the bathroom, some Mercurochrome, a bandage and Mrs. Maltese's donated stockings took care of the damage she'd done to her knee during her ill-fated attempt at wall climbing. Remembering that awkward scene, and how much she'd been frightened at first by the huge and fierce-looking man who apprehended her behind the Maltese mansion, also made her think about what Vic had revealed to her while they were driving back to Albany. The man who had gripped her by the arm and all but carried her into the grand, s.p.a.cious house that turned out to be Vic's family home certainly did fit the stereotype of a mobster muscle man So had the old family friend who had come to the center to say h.e.l.lo to Vic.

Vic's mother, however, had been another story entirely. She didn't fit any of those stereotypes at all. She was, in fact, the kind of gracious and elegant woman Katherine had always hoped she herself would grow into someday. Mrs. Maltese also very obviously adored her son. It was difficult to imagine her ever doing anything that might jeopardize his well-being in any way. Still, Katherine knew that Vic could be correct in his suspicions about his father's back ground. From what she understood about Vic already, she could tella"or at least she believed she could tella"he wasn't the kind of man who would have tormented himself for half his life over a delusion.

The thought of that torment, and the imprint of it she had seen earlier in his eyes, made Katherine all the more determined that this should be the most joyful holiday party he had ever given. She rose to that challenge with a sparkle she hadn't realized she still possessed. She'd believed that the capacity for high social spirits had been burned out of her by the sadness of losing Daniel. Instead, today she found herself greeting each newcomer with a bright smile and a heartfelt happy-holiday wish. Each time she went to the door, too, she hoped to see tiny Sprite Bellaway standing outside. The family friend she was staying with had planned to bring the little girl to Vic's party.

Katherine and Vic didn't have much time at all to talk, though she saw plenty of him as he mingled With his guests and often sent her a devastating smile. She poured punch and chattered while she made certain every guest was stuffing himself or herself from the trays and bowls and chafing dishes of good food, which Sandra Thomas kept full to br.i.m.m.i.n.g. That went on all through the late afternoon, till at dusk, Santa Claus appeared carry ing a bulging bag over one stooped shoulder.

Katherine hadn't known there would be a Santa at the party.

Apparently, the kids from the center hadn't, either. Their surprise and delight were wonderful to see as a cheer went up, followed by cries of, "What's in the bag, Santa?" Katherine had no idea who Santa might actually be. He brought to mind the Secret Santa of the newspaper articles along with a rather wild thought. What if this was the same person? She was telling herself how absurd that had to be when Santa looked up from his gift-distributing to favor her personally with a particularly hearty, "Ho, ho, ho." She knew instantly then that Santa was none other than Vic Maltese himself.

She'd have recognized those eyes under any disguise. There wasn't a hint of torment in them now. Suddenly, Katherine realized, with a pang of warmth, Which travelled directly to her heart, that the joy in Vic's eyes was the best present Santa Claus could possibly have given her.

Even Mariette Dugan showed up for some eggnog. She had a photographer in tow, of course. Mariette didn't strike Katherine as a woman who was ever one-hundred-percent off the job. The photographer set about at once snapping shots of Vic in the Santa suit. Katherine didn't believe for a minute that Mariette's motives were either sentimental or charitable. She would use these photographs to promote her Secret Santa story and squeeze just a little more play out of the series before the day after Christmas made it old news.

Katherine actually hoped the big contributor's ident.i.ty wouldn't be revealed. There was more magic to the generous gesture while it remained anonymous, as if the spirit of the season had been the real benefactor who brought so much relief and happiness to so many people who truly needed those unexpected gifts. She'd heard several reports of how just about every staff person at the center had been happily busy all day making phone calls, handing out money orders, delivering food baskets and wrapping presents. Part of Katherine regretted missing out on the fun of spreading so much joy and goodwill, but she reveled in the new knowledge she had of Vic and in the closeness she'd felt between them as they'd silently scoured the neighbor, hoods earlier. Besides, she knew that being at Vic's side today was the most important, and the happiest, holiday duty she could possibly perform. She was thinking about how special that experience had turned out to be when the phone began to ring. Vic, as Santa, was still being mobbed by children under the tree so Katherine answered the call.

"Could I please talk to Mr. Maltese?" a young boy asked at the other end of the telephone line.

Katherine recognized the voice at once. The child had never been far from her thoughts all day.

"Coyote, is that you? This is Katherine Fairchild. Where are you?"

There was silence from Coyote for a long moment, and Katherine was afraid he might be about to hang up the phone.

"Mr. Maltese is right here," she said. She gestured at Vic, but he didn't appear to notice her over the clamoring of the children who surrounded him.

"We both want to help you. Please, tell me where you are. We'll be happy to come for you if you need us to."

The silence continued, but for only a moment this time.

"I'm at the cathedral next to the Plaza," Coyote said. He sounded like he might be s.h.i.+vering from the cold.

"You mean the cathedral near Empire State Plaza?" The expanse of marble concourse and tall state office towers across State Street from the Capitol Building was referred to by just about everybody locally as the Plaza. The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception wasn't far from there. Katherine had gone inside once just to sit for a while and feel the peace of the place.

"That's where I mean. Next to the Plaza, just down the street from there," Coyote said.

"I hitchhiked here from that huge house you drove to this morning. I was hiding in the back of your car. I saw that big guy drag you away, but I never did find out where he took you. When I went to get back in the car, the same guy was driving it away so I hid till he was gone. Then I got out of there as fast as I could."

Katherine could hardly believe what she was hearing. Coyote Bellaway had stowed himself away in the back of her car? She'd had no idea he was there. She would have liked to question him further about why he'd done that, but finding that out wasn't what really mattered now.

She could hear Coyote's fear in his voice, and his exhaustion, too.

"Go to the front of the Cathedral, by the steps," she said.

"Mr. Maltese and I will be there very soon."

"Come as fast as you can, please."

"We'll be right there," Katherine said, and hung up the phone.