Chapter 2:
Lena's phone rang for the fourth time this week with the same caller ID. "Fort Dix Correctional Facility". She had steadfastly avoided any and all contact with Armin Janko since the day his sentencing had taken place years ago. Her duty to support her daughter had carried her only that far. If she had it her way, she would have dropped all contact the moment the FBI agents had laid out their case in front of her. It was by the grace of God, that they had believed her when she said she had no idea what he was doing. She cursed her own lack of education for not seeing the signs herself. If she had more than just a couple of years of secretarial training, she might have been able to realize what he was up to before he annihilated the savings of so many people. Armin Janko had single handedly handed her most of the bricks she used to build up the wall she used to keep people at arms length. She carried herself like a Serbian aristocrat, while inside she struggled to move beyond the determined, yet insecure young immigrant who came to the United States.
Realizing that he had nothing but time on his hands and that this daily calling could go on indefinitely, she decided to just answer the phone, tell him to go to hell once and for all and be done with it.
"Hello," she snapped after accepting the call.
"Lena" a familiar voice responded. It was strangely familiar, yet a clearly older and worn down version from the confident businessman she had been married to for 20 years. "How are you?"
"I'm fine Armin," she snapped again. "What do you want? We have said everything to each other that needed to be said already. Why are you calling me?"
"Our daughter is getting married," he choked out. "I wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you supported her all these years. She has grown into a fine woman."
"Of course she has. I already know that. Now why are you calling ME?"
"The wedding...I wanted to ask you a favor about the wedding," Armin answered. He had that tone in his voice that he used whenever he wanted something from her, like she was his only hope and he was embarrassed to ask.
"I am not doing you any favors, Armin. You very nearly made me complicit in your dishonesty and criminal behavior. I am a lot of things, Armin. I'm tough, pushy and crass at times, but I am an honest person."
"It's not that kind of favor. I just want you to bring me a piece of our daughter's wedding cake."
"Cake? Are you kidding me? Why the hell do you want me to bring you cake?"
"Lena, I've made more mistakes than I can count. I just want to feel like I experienced some part of our little girl's special day." he paused briefly for her consideration then continued.
"Maybe you can have the caterer put some aside for me? I'm sure the police commissioner would make sure you were able to bring it into the prison. If you ask him, I'm sure he could get clearance for outside food."
Normally, visitors were not able to bring food or drink from the outside. However, at this medium security prison, if you filled out the proper paperwork and followed a few rules about what type of container it came in, you could sometimes get prior approval and bring food to share during visitor's hours..
"I barely know the man, Armin. And certainly not well enough to ask for some kind of favor. Not that he'd even be willing to do it if I did"
"Please Lena," There was that tone of voice again...
She had a sneaking suspicion he was up to something. After looking back over the last few years of her marriage to Armin Janko, Lena had realized that every time he needed her help to unwittingly pull some sort of stunt, he used that tone. It was out of character when it first started, her confident, strong husband to showing her that kind of vulnerability. He played on her insecurity about what she brought to the table in their relationship besides being his arm candy. When he asked for her help, it was like she was the only person that could support him; she had felt like his equal. Unfortunately, that was just his way of pulling her into his schemes and giving them credibility. Once Lena realized that, she felt even more betrayed than she did about the crimes he was actually prosecuted for.
"I'll consider it, Armin. Now I really have to go. I have work." While she used a tone of emphasis for that last word, the reality was she enjoyed working more than she ever could have imagined. When the fallout from Armin's crimes resulted in the need to support herself, she had been terrified. She had only worked for a short time before Armin had whisked her away from all that. He had been more than generous with her, using other people's money she later realized, happy to have her support the image he was trying to present. She'd had everything she could want during their marriage. But, the money left after the government had done forensic accounting of their bank accounts and assets, left her with their personal possessions and furniture, her home and little else.
When she sold the big house in West Chester she had been shrewd. She intuitively knew just how to arrange things inside to maximize its potential. The realtor who worked with her was surprisingly compassionate, having gone through her own contentious divorce with its own challenges. She immediately saw the value that Lena could provide for her business. Now, still working at the same real estate agency, managing the New York office and staging their properties, Lena had found fulfillment in a way she couldn't have predicted at the time.
Working for a realtor had also helped when she wanted to leave one apartment for another frequently, in her attempt to stay one step ahead of being associated with Armin's crimes. Once other residents realized who she was, she was often treated like a pariah. That brought out the fighter in her, but not the proactive, fix the problem kind of fighter...more like the sarcastic, bitter, hiding behind a giant wall kind of fighter. Until Frank Reagan had convinced her to stand up for herself and own her innocence, she had been caught in a cycle of moving every six months or so. Her current apartment was near enough to see her daughter, had plenty of great restaurants nearby and was in walking distance from her home. Lena Janko was finally at peace and thoroughly enjoying the second half of her 50's as an independent, self supporting woman.
As soon as she hung up the phone, she was mentally exhausted. That feeling she had when the FBI had first begun asking her questions was back. She hated to admit it but she really wanted to believe Armin was being sentimental about Edit's wedding. The problem was that Armin was not a particularly sentimental person. He loved their daughter and had been a doting father, but he had no interest in stepping back and not sharing the limelight. He loved the grand gestures with the appropriate amount of recognition for his efforts. The idea of simply watching their daughter's wedding video while eating the cake from the reception was not his style. Lena Janko became a mama bear on high alert the more she thought about Armin's request. It was time to protect her daughter and her new son-in-law at all costs from whatever Armin was concocting. She knew she needed some support, but she did not want to let the young couple in on her suspicions. She picked up the phone and dialed a number she had just recently programmed into her cellphone.
Henry Reagan was sitting at the table waiting for the Uber he had called to transport him to a bridge club meeting at the church. He was looking forward to catching up with his old partner Colleen. Henry was a regular at these bi-weekly events, always willing to partner up with one of the ladies from the parish for the afternoon. His cellphone rang, and he expected to see Colleen's name or someone from the Reagan family. He was surprised to see Lena's name. Expecting she would want to chat about the cocktail party that they were planning for in between Jamie's wedding and the reception, he cheerfully picked up.
"Lena, how are you doing? Ready to dance the night away with me soon?"
"Of course I am Henry, but I'm calling about something else. I need a policeman's take on a little situation. Are you free for dinner later? Frank too if he's available, but I'm sure you can help me get to the bottom of this issue."
"I'd be delighted. I have some Chicken Paprikash ready to go in the oven. My cholesterol was looking great this week so I broke out one of my old favorite recipes that Betty used to make. How about joining two single old men for dinner at our place."
"That sounds wonderful, how does 7 o'clock sound? I get off work at 6 tonight."
"We'll see you then."
