Disclaimer: Ahem… I would like to announce that I have secured the rights to the character of Laura Hardy…. Oh wait, I haven't. Haven't got the rights to other beloved characters either. What I did manage to do was modify this chapter for posting. Most of it was written while I was trying to tweak chapter 17, so the next update will be a little while. Enjoy!
Fenton threw down the newspaper and took a bite of his bagel. Sitting at a table at a café across the street from the Bayport courthouse on a sunny morning was supposed to make him calmer and more relaxed before the trial started. But since he kept looking at each passerby, trying to spot a familiar face in vain, he was not calm.
By the time he had gotten back to the pier both Thomas and Laura had disappeared. Thomas was most likely dead. The police had found his blood on the pier. Judging from the location of the blood, he had hit his head as he went over the railing, but police divers couldn't find his body. There was no sign of Laura, and no way of knowing for sure if she was alive or dead.
Fenton flat out refused to believe that she was dead. She had come too far, grown too much, had too much to do, to be dead. But during the past six months, he had expected some sign of her – a phone call, a note, a postcard, an encounter on the street. Even if he meant nothing to her, she could at least do him the courtesy of letting him know. Wouldn't I know? He thought. Wouldn't I know if she were dead?
He bent down to pick up his briefcase and placed it in his lap. He placed his newspaper in it and then upset his glass of water on the table as he saw the woman who had taken the seat across from him.
"You're one of the easiest people to sneak up on," she said. "You get distracted by the littlest things or are always lost in thought."
"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, trying to look cool while mopping up the mess with several napkins. "Do you know how worried I've been?" He had imagined this encounter several times in his head. In each of his scenarios, his opening comment had been something like "it's about time you showed up" or "can I buy you a cup of coffee?". "Where the hell have you been?" revealed far more of his true feelings than he would have liked.
"Here, there, and everywhere," she said flippantly, passing him some additional napkins. "I had some things to take care of, but I saw that the trial was starting this afternoon and made sure I got back in time."
Deciding that the direct approach was the best, she became serious and plunged in. "I was expecting there to be some mention of me in the news reports."
"There won't be." He kept his eyes fixed on the table. "I told the cops and the D.A. you weren't involved at all." He felt her start in surprise and transferred his gaze to her mouth and chin.
"When I was locked in that cellar, I thought you were really engaged and had betrayed…whatever." He spoke in a rush. "And when I found out you hadn't, I was mad that I had even thought that. Especially after what you went through and what you did for us, I thought you deserved a second chance. So I said you were never there. The rest of the gang think you escaped before the police arrived and that they are protecting you by remaining silent. Eric has some questions about his son, but at this point, he has no idea if you are still alive and has never mentioned you."
"I can't believe anything made you lie to the police." She was truly touched and astonished. What could she say to that?
"Me neither. There's a new PI that I'm going to start working with, Sam Radley. He's as straight as they come and I'm going to learn a lot from him. If he finds out, that would be it."
"Thank you," she said softly fiddling with the teacup that the waitress had brought her. "I will honor your trust."
The pleasant silence engulfed both of them as they observed the passers by. People seemed to walk with an extra spring in their step, a sense of purpose but also a commitment to enjoy life, to enjoy living. As the last noisy crowd turned around the corner, Laura looked at Fenton's jacket.
"What's going to happen at the trial?" she asked.
"Thanks to your information, Eric is being charged with planning to rob the Bayport Savings Bank, the Philadelphia robbery and a long list of money laundering, embezzlement and drug-related crimes. Thomas has disappeared –"
"He's dead," Laura interrupted. "He regained consciousness after you left and tried to kill me. We fought and he went over the pier."
"They found the blood, but no body," said Fenton. "So we've assumed he was dead but kept our eye out just in case. Anyway, the rest are being charged as accomplices. I'm recommending leniency for Jim and testifying on his behalf, so he should be out in about 12 years. I put the disc in the warehouse and wiped the prints, so thanks to you we have enough evidence to prosecute everyone."
"I should be charged too," Laura said. "If I hadn't met you, I would be charged with them or dead like Thomas."
"No," said Fenton. "If I hadn't met you, I'd be at the bottom of the ocean, and the Camarazzi syndicate would still be functioning."
Laura sipped her tea. The conversation had gone well, but Fenton wasn't going to like what she had to say next.
"Until I saw Thomas die, I planned to disappear for good. Just show up once in a while to see you and live out my life without consequences. But if I did that, I'd end up back to my old ways and you'd have to hunt me down or I'd be dead like him." She paused briefly. "You didn't think I lied to you? Or wondered where I was the last six months." It was a question she had pondered during long, sleepless nights.
"No," Fenton said calmly. "I would know if you were dead, and I know you didn't lie to me. I did wonder where you were and expected to hear from you before now. But I also figured that you needed your time and space to think and would show up when you were ready. When push came to shove, you do the right thing. You care about other people, and think they are human, not tools or playthings. That's what separates you from them more than anything."
"Maybe," she said. "But if I'm going to make a break with my past, it needs to be complete. So I've made sure it would be."
"What are you saying?" Fenton sat upright.
"I tracked down the Camarazzi operations that I already knew existed but didn't know the details about. And then I infiltrated as many other groups as I could –embezzlers, bank robbers, money-laundering to get as much information possible. It's all going to the authorities this afternoon. I wanted to let you know first."
Fenton knew that Laura had changed, but he hadn't expected this. His imagination filled with the possibilities of them working together. They could open a practice, track down criminals and learn things from each other. With his brains and her skills, they'd make one fabulous and unbeatable team. His attention returned to what she was saying.
"It felt so good!" Laura said. "It felt so good to do something for good, knowing that I was working for a good cause. I don't even care if I have to go to jail anymore. What I liked about stealing and the criminal life even more than the money was the sense of being alive, always being in control of a situation, relying on my wits and being part of a team. But after what Thomas did to me, there's no way I could work with someone as a thief again. We were taught that there was honor among thieves, but there isn't any."
"Of course not!"
"There used to be," she retorted. "I know what Jim did." She sobered quickly. "But I got careless, Fenton. I temporarily covered my tracks but within another couple of days, they'll know it was me."
Fenton paused. "Two more days?"
"Right."
"And you have evidence of everything you found?"
"Yes, and backup copies. If anything happens to me, the D.A.'s office will receive them."
"Laura," Fenton said. "I know it's a big step, but have you thought about trying for a pardon?"
"A pardon?" she eyed him, wondering if he had his head screwed on straight. "Wouldn't I have to go into witness protection or something? Give up my entire life and live as Ms. Jones?"
"Maybe not," he said. "We could see if you could... ah…if you could stick around here. Since you've been all over the country, I don't think the location is the top concern."
"A pardon," she repeated. "I never imagined that could ever be possible. You don't know what I've done…"
"Have you killed anyone?" he demanded brusquely. He was pretty sure she hadn't, but he needed to know, more importantly, he needed her to know.
"No!" she said. "But I've been responsible for unsolved robberies and known about plenty of people who were silenced because they wanted to leave or were getting too close."
"You'll have to deal with your own conscience," he said soberly. "But legally, providing the information before was enough to secure a pardon for you. With this new information, we can take down a lot of other people. It's enough to guarantee you a pardon five times over, especially if you wanted to work for law enforcement. It will take them a while to trust you, but once they do, they'll love having you on their side."
She shook her head. "Fenton, I'm sorry. I know that's what you want. But I couldn't do it."
"What do you mean?" For the first time since she had sat down, the two of them made eye contact. His eyes sparkled with possibilities, her eyes tried to convince him of where she was.
"If I did that, there is no way I could guarantee I wouldn't slide back and become who I was. Being around people with no morals, people who would sell out their entire families for practically nothing, easy money being available without hurting anyone… The temptation would always be there. The entire time I was undercover, there were moments when I wanted to run away and forget everything, to start life anew without atoning for previous mistakes. The only thing that kept me going – was you. Sometimes I'd think about how you turned down Eric's offer. But that wasn't enough! So instead I'd think about how hurt you'd be, how you'd track me down to the ends of the earth if I didn't come back."
She saw the incomprehension on Fenton's face and sighed. "You don't understand. You're a good person, Fenton. You've never been drawn by those kinds of things."
"No," he said. "I don't understand. I don't understand why that prevents you from helping other people, from continuing to make right –" he stopped abruptly.
"Nothing can make it right," Laura said coldly. "Even if we find someone who's willing to grant the pardon. Nothing can take away all those things I did"
"Jeff, the task force guy, in heaven with Camarazzi on trial. He'll fight for the pardon. But I'm sorry for saying that, you're right, nothing can fix what you did. But you can start again and do no more harm."
"I do want to start again," she agreed. "But that's the only way I can do it. Even though you trust me, the only way I can be sure of honoring that trust is by leaving that part of me completely behind."
"Someday?" he asked, after wrestling with himself, wanting to argue but knowing it was pointless. "I can accept that is who you are now. But maybe someday?"
"Someday," she said.
That evening, Fenton admitted that he had lied to the authorities regarding Laura's involvement in the Camarazzi syndicate, and detailed the reasons why. Jeff made it abundantly clear that if Fenton ever did anything like that again, Jeff himself would know about it, and he would make it his personal mission to see that Fenton was sent to jail.
Laura had long interviews with a parade of law enforcement officials who would not be satisfied that she was genuine until they met her personally. All of her information was double-checked and triple-checked for veracity, and she passed two polygraph exams. Over the next six months, staggered arrests were quietly made so they could not be traced back to one source.
Thanks to her hard work and the efforts of Jeff and Fenton, Laura Basden received her pardon four months after she had turned herself in. By that time, various criminal gangs had discovered that she had compromised their security, but they never made any connection between her and a relatively recent series of arrests. To protect her identity, the pardon was never made public or entered in police records. For all intents and purposes, Laura Basden, right-hand operative in the Camarazzi syndicate, sole remaining member at large, disappeared and was never heard from again.
"Frank" and "Joie" resumed where they had left off as Fenton and Laura and went out for a celebratory dinner the day after the pardon came through (they had bent or broken too many rules already to take a risk being caught violating a "conflict of interest" policy). Laura had found someone she could be honest with about all her imperfections and past, but could still see the good in her and help her live up to the best of herself. Fenton had found someone who understood and supported the demands of his job and would never ask him to give it up. He was confident of two things. 1) That he would do everything within his power to protect her and 2) that she could handle herself in a tough situation, as every private investigator's wife should be able to.
Six months later, they were married.
Somehow, that "someday" kept getting put off. Laura soon got a job as a librarian and three years later, their firstborn son arrived. The births of Frank and Joe represented the future for Laura Hardy, who became even more determined to leave Laura Basden behind. And so it stayed that way for many years, until one phone call changed everything.