Phoenix
Chapter Nine
After staying for more than an hour at the Drake agency, a defeated Perry returned, haggard and weary, to his office. The last thing he wanted was to distress Della further, so instead of entering the office via the reception and lobby, he decided to go through the secondary door. The only information he had managed to obtain so far was not at all flattering for them. He despaired of how to tell her the truth. Never, not even when his girl was plucked from his arms, had he ever felt so helpless to help his wife. Now sitting at his desk, he took some time alone to collect his thoughts, hone his wits, and figure out what plan of action he would take, based on what he had found out.
All that hour, Perry had been trying to find out who this infamous Michael Domenico really was. When he got to the private detective's office, Paul wasn't there. Instead, Margo, Paul's faithful and longsuffering secretary, was there. She took one look at him and her heart went out to him. He was radiating pain, but like the big bear he was, it manifested as growls and snarls. So, Margo informed the impatient and furious lawyer that her boss was unavailable. Still, Paul had left word that Perry was to call his best operative. Perry had gathered himself as best he could and had asked for Ralph Faulkner immediately. Once the detective entered Paul's office, the anxious attorney wasted no time directing the agent to find out as much as possible about Michael Domenico as he could. Perry made it crystal clear he wanted everything, regardless of how inconsequential the information seemed. He was determined to get to the bottom of the entire business.
Perry was not going to leave a stone unturned, a path unexplored, if it meant Della's well-being. He would move heaven and earth—and perhaps hell itself—to make things right for his beloved wife! But it had to be owned… it was also for his own good that he sought the answers. And he wouldn't hesitate to use every legal stratagem in his power to get Peggy back to them. That sweet little girl... who just a few hours ago was supposed to become their daughter. His daughter... who had cried silently for nine long years. Their little princess... the one he saw for just a few seconds and who stole his heart in less. That baby... as beautiful and sweet as her mother, who left him, in the deepest desolation when realizing she was no longer with them.
He never wanted to show how much her death hurt him, only allowing himself to cry when he was alone. The ache in his chest ebbed and flowed, but the compounded loss of Della—it was his breaking point. He never let her hear him grieve, never let her see the tortures he carried with him. It was his fault she was gone. His fault Della had left. Then, Peggy had come and with her had come the healing. Only… He now feared this time he might lose Della forever, if he failed to get Peggy back.
It didn't take a genius to realize that the following days would be a severe test for the love of Perry and Della. Although they both loved each other strongly and they would never stop doing so, Perry didn't know how much more Della could take. The fear of her leaving him, without word or direction, gripped his heart. His very reason for being, for functioning, could walk away from him for good!
I have to face her now, Perry realized, steeling himself to go to Della. But no, I don't know how to tell her everything that damned Michael said was true. He has legal custody of our girl, of Peggy, and no judge will countermand that.
The little Perry had managed to find out so far was that he was an important businessman and highly respected in Chicago society. The Chicago connection wasn't lost on the great legal mind. Even in a desperate haze, he knew a loose end when he tugged on one. Michael Domenico was regarded as a great philanthropist, one who had never refused to help people in need. He was in the press often, and yet, despite that, there was still very little to glean from the articles. An illustrious character in the city, he was very loved by people. There were even whispers he was being groomed as the next mayor.
The silence in the office permeated his thoughts. Until that moment, he hadn't noticed the eerie quiet throughout. At first, he had assumed Della was in her office as well, wrapped up in her own thoughts. He had thought she was trying to find possible solutions to bring Peggy home to them, perhaps even making inquiries on her own account. But he noticed after awhile that he hadn't heard any movement coming from his wife's office, so he decided to get up and investigate.
Opening the door to Della's office, he scanned the area completely. Little was untoward, and she was clearly not at her desk or on the couch. Astonishment knocked the wind from him as he registered the surprise. Empty! Della had fled after all! He quickly made him way to the reception and locked eyes on Gertie, who flushed and tried to look anywhere b, where but at him.
"Gertie!" His voice was almost strident. "Where is my wife?"
"I don't know sir! Mrs. Mason just hurried out of the office without saying where she was going." Gertie's eyes faltered and she looked down at her hands.
"How did she leave," he tempered his voice to a more even tone, "without indicating where she was going?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mason, but that's just what she did. She left her office, and I could tell she was nervous! I remember her asking specifically if another envelope had arrived for her." Gertie's eyes widened at the change in his expression, and she rushed on. "After I answered yes, she asked me to give it to her. She scanned it, and then she just—" she lifted her hand, then let it drop. "Left. Without a word."
Perry's blue eyes blazed at his receptionist. "Gertie, I don't understand. What envelope are you talking about?"
"Before Mrs. Mason got to the office, a manila envelope arrived for her. It had no return address, just her handwritten name. After seeing it, she quickly entered her office, but before that she asked me for a couple of aspirin and a glass of water. After I brought them to her she told me she didn't want to be bothered by anyone except you or Mr. Drake. But after half an hour she left. Her face looked pale as paper. She then asked me if anything else had arrived for her." The words tumbled out on top of each other. She drew a quick breath, then admitted, "I don't know how she knew! But minutes before, a messenger had come with another manila envelope. Like I said before, after seeing its contents, she left without saying a word."
Perry, quietly moving toward the desk, suddenly let his frustration slip. Gertie jumped as the desk was rocked by his strong fist pounding on it. "Damn! I have to find her." He turned unseeing eyes on the poor girl. "I can't… I can't breathe without her."
He wheeled around, leaving his receptionist more scared and trembling. Saying nothing more, Perry stalked into his wife's office hunting for anything, any signs, of what was in those envelopes. It held the key to her disappearance. And his gut was telling him that it also had to do with little Peggy and Michael.
Once inside, his gaze was drawn to Della's desk. There, without any paperweight or pen nearby, was a folded piece of paper with his name on it. Della's handwriting. I'd know it anywhere. But she wrote it in such a hurry! After unfolding it and reading it, the few words written left him in a state of shock.
Perry, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry,
I can't take one more loss.
I'm leaving; please don't look for me,
Della.
Although Perry sensed this could happen, he never imagined it would have played out this way. It wasn't Della's usual way of acting.
He frowned. Della would have had the courage to face me, to tell me in person she was leaving. Why! He closed his eyes and allowed the pain to wash over him again. She doesn't trust me; I failed her again, and she . . . He pushed the thought out. Della knew he would move heaven and earth to restore Peggy to them. He would go to the bowels of hell itself if it was necessary. But Della didn't wait for him to act, to even bring her information they could use . . .
But Perry was unaware Della had been equally willing—and had taken action—to go to the depths of hell, too, to get their daughter back.
It suddenly occurred to Perry that Della might still be in his apartment packing her things. His head flew up and his blue eyes blazed. Perhaps, if I can get there in time, I can catch her. I'd do anything to keep her from walking away again. He was sure he could convince her that they could bring Peggy back—together. Grabbing his coat, he hurried out of his office and ran toward the elevators. I'm not losing her this time, he promised himself, Never, ever again!
XXXX XXXX XXXX
Paul was whistling as he jogged toward the Brent building. A big smile lit up the detective's face as he thought how happy his friends would be with the information he had to share. Peggy's adoption party would now take on added significance! Perry and Della could at last welcome their daughter home. Although he knew after the shock and happiness of having their daughter restored to them, the questions would come. It was the only part of the whole thing that gave him pause, what with Perry's temper being what it was . . . an explosion was bound to happen.
Paul's grin widened a little more. Knowing Perry, I'll have to conspire with Della to have Tragg—and maybe even Burger—on the line, ready to talk reason into him! The last thing anyone wants is for him to kill Domenico with his bare hands.
Yet if Paul were being honest, he wouldn't deny it had taken all his self-control not to go looking for that odious man. Dark fantasies had filled his mind with the tortures he would inflict, from grabbing him by the throat and dragging him across Chicago to the tallest building in the city, climbing to the top floor with him, and watching him fall from there. It wasn't the only death he had pictured, but it was becoming his favorite.
How could this damned waste of life make Della—and I suppose, Perry—suffer like this! Della! My beautiful girl. My beautiful friend. The one I love as though she were my very flesh and bone. The kid sister I never had . . . Domenico couldn't possibly have known the effect his actions would have on her! Paul pictured her as she had been before, and then when they had lost the baby. Della wasn't the same. She had put on a happy face as she entered the law office. But through the mask he had seen the hollowed-out portion of her soul. Then his mind supplanted that memory with the one of her escorting Peggy into Perry's office. He remembered looking up, seeing the sun break through the clouds in her eyes. The hazel eyes were naturally happy and radiant as she walked hand in hand with Peggy. Even in the moment Paul couldn't help but notice he hadn't seen her smile like that in nine years. And how could it not be? She had her daughter back, even if she didn't know!
But there was something nagging at Paul. Yes, I know the truth now, he realized, but how will Perry take it? What will his reaction be when he learns the reason why? Finding out Michael Domenico was formerly engaged to Della is going to shock him, rock him to his core. And then he'll learn that this has been a carefully orchestrated revenge, mapped out from an uprooted, broken heart that has no hope of ever mending. Della left the man at the altar. Nothing will undo the hurt of that rejection.
Paul was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the great man walking towards him. The man who in turn was also in his own world, causing both men to collide. Looking up, the detective recognized Perry's frame (he was hard to miss, the walking boulder!) and he broken into a lazy grin.
"I was on my way up to see—" the words died in his throat. Perry's eyes were distant. Paul's gut twisted. Scrambling up, he offered the lawyer his hand and after both were back on their own feet, asked hesitantly, "What's happened?"
Perry's blue eyes were dark with an intensity the detective knew too well. "She's—gone. Paul, I don't have time to explain right now. I need to go to my apartment." He was looking ahead again, scanning the area for his car. His words, though still audible, weren't especially conversational. "She might have gone there first."
"Peggy?"
At the sound of the little girl's name, Perry wheeled around to face his friend. "Della, Paul. Della." And it was with a concerted effort that the vein in his forehead only throbbed rather than burst. "Gertie knows what happened at the courthouse by now, but . . . Della left. She . . . walked away. I fear that if I don't stop her now, I might— I—I have to go. I can't lose her. Not again." His voice shattered and he turned away. "Not ever."
"Walk away?" Paul asked still not understanding. "Perry, tell me! Why would Della want to leave, if Peggy's adoption would make the two of you the happiest in the world?"
Perry shoved his fisted hands into his pants pockets, but he didn't slow his walk; ahead, the gleaming hood of his car came into view. "Paul, that's just it. We didn't adopt her; we couldn't adopt Peggy! Something came up in court—or rather, someone."
"Michael Domenico," Paul guessed, then clamped his mouth shut.
"Someone stopped us from doing it!" Perry continued to rail, unaware of Paul's guess. He needed to be free from his friend, and fast. His car was pulling to a stop. Turning to face him, he offered him the only smile he had left. "Paul, I'm sorry, but the details and questions will have to wait. I need to go to my apartment, I have to catch up with Della, before she leaves."
"Perry!" Paul thundered, beside himself and too keyed up to wait another moment. He grabbed Perry's arm tightly to prevent him from leaving.
"Damn it, Paul, let go of me."
"Shut up and listen, you overgrown refrigerator! I am not releasing you until you listen. Later, if you want, I'll go with you to look for her myself."
"Damn it to hell!" Perry fumed, "Forget the car. Let's get a cab. You can talk while we ride. You have until we reach the apartment."
Paul relaxed. "Thank you."
They were seated in the back of a yellow cab within a minute. Paul didn't waste time. Pulling out a letter from his inside coat pocket, he passed it to the lawyer. Perry glanced at it in irritation.
"A summary?"
Paul shook his head. "Just . . . read the damned thing. It will answer better than I can most of the questions you have. It was written by the same doctor that—" he broke off to swallow, then finished calmly, "The same doctor who told you and Della your angel had died."
Perry's eyes flamed a brilliant blue, and for an instant Paul could see the resemblance in Peggy's eye expression.
As he opened the letter, Perry asked, "How did you come by this? And what does the doctor have to do with any of it?"
Paul looked skyward, but the ceiling of the cab held no answers. Instead, he said, "This really is too long to explain. For now, just read it. I promise it will give you the biggest surprise of your life. The rest is just details. And I can give you those later, when time isn't of the essence! For now, it only matters that you know the truth. Della will have to fill in some of the gaps, as well."
Perry began to read. The eyes, so accustomed to scanning legal documents, consumed the words on the page. Then his countenance changed as he reread everything again, more slowly. Paul noted the confusion first, then the surprise, the anger, and finally, the disbelief.
"Paul . . .?"
"It's true, Perry. Verified."
The lawyer took a deep breath, just as the cab turned a corner and was gradually slowing in front of an apartment building.
"So . . . Peggy—our Peggy—is the baby Della and I . . . The one I held in my arms? My princess! My daughter!"
His emotions hit him hard. Even the driver of the cab could sense the monumental moment happening in the backseat. Perry was whiter than the sidewalk, and in very real danger of passing out.
Before Paul could stop him, Perry fumbled for the latch to the door and was out of the cab. In the next instant the big man was running full tilt toward the doors of the lobby. Paul took only long enough to pay the driver before he was hot on his friend's heels.
"Perry, wait a second, will ya!"
But Paul might as well have been talking to thin air. The elevator doors opened and Perry strode through them. He met his friend's eyes across the lobby. "I'm going to get my wife and daughter back. And don't even think about stopping me this time, Paul."
The lopsided grin was back in place. "I have no intention of stopping you. I'm coming, too." He slid into the elevator just as the operator started to close the doors.