Blind to Sin Read online

  Her eyes went wide when she looked at Kenneth. Donne nodded.

  “This is Matt’s dad. This is Kenneth Herrick.”

  Kenneth stuck out his hand, and, after a second, so did the woman. They shook.

  She said, “This was not how I expected to meet his parents. I’m Sarah. I’m Matt’s girlfriend.”

  The name quickly flashed back to Donne.

  Kenneth’s hand snapped away. But he recovered nicely. “Well, he has exceptional taste.”

  “Where’s Matt?” Donne asked.

  Sarah put her hands on each side of the doorway. “I don’t know. Working.”

  Kenneth took a deep breath. Then he folded his arms. “What does my son do for a living now?”

  Donne snapped his head in Kenneth’s direction, surprised by the question. Kenneth knew. Herrick may not have come to visit Kenneth much, but Donne and Kenneth had talked a ton in prison. He knew. What game was he playing here?

  Someone in the building started pounding on drums, a half-hearted attempt at a song that seemed very familiar to Donne. The beat wasn’t perfect, so he couldn’t place it.

  Sarah said, “He’s a high school basketball coach.” Kenneth opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “I know—it’s out of season, but they’re doing workouts before AAU practice starts. Matt likes to keep a good relationship with the AAU guys so he can have a say in where these kids go to college.”

  Donne waited.

  Kenneth said, “Can we come in and wait for him?”

  Sarah said, “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? He’s my son.”

  Sarah straightened her back. “Because you are two convicted criminals who appear to be out of jail based on a technicality.”

  Kenneth opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he nodded. “We’ll come back.”

  “Don’t hurry,” she said. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

  He waved at Donne and started back down the hallway. The drums got louder, pounding away with the rhythm of a rock song.

  “THEY’RE OUT.”

  John Mack sat across from Matt Herrick in the middle of Garden State Plaza, one of the largest malls in New Jersey. They were in the food court, surrounded by the smell of fries, pizza and Chinese food. Herrick nursed a Dr. Pepper while Mack munched on a small salad from a chain.

  Herrick asked, “When?”

  “Today. I tried to slow the process down, but the warden down there is kind of headstrong. He saw the cash and couldn’t say no.” Mack chewed lettuce. “Did you talk to Cole?”

  “Why is the warden making the decision?”

  Mack shrugged. “I think he nudged our fearless leader in Trenton in this direction after the donation. But who knows? What about Cole?”

  A family walked by them, the dad holding the hand of a toddler whose attention was drifting with all the marketing going on around them. The mom pushed a stroller with a babbling baby inside. Both mom and dad looked like they hadn’t slept in a month.

  Herrick told Mack the story of visiting Elliot Cole—minus the part about Herrick being dragged out of the house by his collar. Mack listened as he finished his salad, and then shook his head.

  “What are they up to?” he asked.

  “Hell if I know, but it can’t be good.”

  “Stating the obvious.”

  Mack put his fork down, exhaled loudly, and leaned back in his chair. Herrick waited. When he was a kid, his dad used to do the same thing before grounding him. In retrospect, being grounded for pushing a kid on a playground was kind of ridiculous when your dad and mom were modern day cat burglars. Herrick didn’t learn that until it was too late. His parents did a hell of a job lying to him, up until the day his dad was arrested.

  Uncle Elliot and Uncle Adrik were the rich ones. Mom and Dad called them corporate. They were the ones to land the front row Yankees tickets, and gave Herrick some experiences kids got spoiled on. But that was how it went. Saw some great games back in the day, and while he was there with his uncles, Mom and Dad were out Bonnie and Clyde-ing it.

  “What if you raid the house in Paterson?” Herrick asked, snapping himself back to the conversation.

  Mack shook his head. “Don’t have any probable cause. Elliot Cole hasn’t been on our radar in a long time. And I’m also only in corrections. He hasn’t jumped bail.”

  “Would probably put the kibosh on the whole thing anyway. We’d never find out what they were up to.”

  Mack squinted when Herrick said “kibosh,” but didn’t comment. “Of course, if we stop it before we know, that’s a good thing. I’ll make some calls and see if we can get someone out there to at least take a look around.”

  Herrick’s phone buzzed on the table. He snatched it before Mack could sit back up. It was a text from Sarah. Just met your dad. Weird.

  What felt like an electric shock ran up Herrick’s arm and into his chest. Air got caught in his throat. He started to stand. Sat back down and wrote to Sarah. Are you okay?

  Yes. They’re gone. He and Donne were here.

  Mack said, “What is it?”

  Herrick stared at the cop across from him, and his stomach knotted. His instincts told him to not say anything. Make up an excuse to leave, and get the hell back to Hoboken. But that reaction never helped him before. Lying only led to trouble with law enforcement.

  He took a breath. “My dad and Donne just came to my apartment. They’re gone now, though. They ran into my girlfriend.”

  “Hell of a Saturday for her. You going back there?”

  Herrick nodded.

  “I’ll meet you there. I want to hear this.”

  Herrick nodded again. Then bolted for the parking lot. Sarah said she was all right, but it didn’t ease the rock that formed in the back of his neck. A rock that wouldn’t go away until he saw her okay with his own eyes.

  Route 17 to Route 3 to Interstate 495. Basically hell on asphalt any time of day, and it took Herrick nearly forty-five minutes to navigate. Mack’s car was directly behind him at one point, but all the lane weaving separated them. Herrick didn’t even bother to try finding street parking, and tucked his car in a lot. The car he bought after he realized public transportation was slowing his caseload down. At least in a car you felt like you had control.

  He got to the front door of his apartment building, pulled his key and was about to unlock the door when he felt a hand on his arm. He whirled and reached for the ASP nightstick that was usually there. Today, though, in his rush, he left it in the car.

  “Matt,” Jackson Donne said. “Your dad and I need to talk to you.”

  Herrick said, “Sarah?”

  “She’s fine, but you and I need to get off the street. It’s important. I’m worried.”

  “You’re supposed to be in jail. Both of you.”

  Donne nodded. “Yeah, I kind of wish I was. It’s bad, Matt.”

  “Where’s my dad?”

  Donne tilted his head in the direction of the PATH train. “Let’s walk.”

  “I don’t want to see him.”

  “You really should. Let’s walk.”

  Herrick hesitated, looking up at his apartment window. Donne took his arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  Herrick exhaled. They walked.

  HERRICK DIDN’T say anything to Donne as they walked. His heart was pumping hard and his fingers were slightly numb. It was after lunch, and the bars were just starting to get busy with people checking out the final innings of the matinee Yankees and Mets games. The PATH train station wasn’t bustling like it would be on a weekday morning.

  Donne took the steps down two at a time, a bounce in his step Herrick had never seen. Herrick used the bannister. A man leaned against the wall near the Metrocard kiosks. His face was covered in shadow, but that didn’t matter. Herrick hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and that didn’t matter either. He knew it was his father.

  They reached the platform and Kenneth Herrick stepped forward. Matt Herrick looked at his dad,
and realized the time that had past. The rakish good looks of a 1970s action star were gone, replaced by wrinkles, jowls and gray hair. His dad had shaved the full black beard and mustache, but a salt and pepper five o’clock shadow appeared. Steve McQueen in the 70s meet Clint Eastwood now.

  “Hi, Matt.” The voice was the same, baritone and strong.

  Matt Herrick looked at Donne. “Are you glad I gave you that note way back when?”

  Donne shrugged. “Probably be dead otherwise.”

  The squeal of train brakes and the following hiss filled the station. A few commuters at the turnstile started to run.

  “Wanna ride?” Kenneth said. “I used to love the subways when I was a kid.”

  Herrick shook his head. “I don’t want to be here. You shouldn’t be out of prison.”

  Play it dumb, Matt.

  “I just wanted to see you. You never came to visit.”

  Herrick worked his jaw for a moment. “Dad, I was in Afghanistan because I was essentially an orphan. Because of you.”

  “I’m glad you survived.” Kenneth was stone faced.

  Herrick flashed to the boy with the bomb in the sandbox. Seconds from detonation. Herrick’s hands started to shake and he balled them into fists. He rolled and cracked his neck.

  “No help from you,” he said.

  Donne put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “I talked to Elliot Cole,” Herrick said. “I knew you were out. I know he bought you out. I know about…about Mom. That’s all I want to know. Jesus, I’m going to have to hire a therapist.”

  “We need your help,” Kenneth said.

  “Cole told me.” Herrick put his hands in his pockets. “Stay away from me and Sarah.”

  A voice warned everyone to stand clear of the closing doors, and then the train pulled out into the tunnel.

  “I haven’t been to New York in so long,” Dad said.

  Herrick turned to Donne. “Take him to New York, then. Away from here.”

  “He’s the boss.”

  Like it was grammar school all over again. Go tell Mom, ask your father. Herrick’s body was a muscle tightened mess, like he’d spent the entire night working out for the first time in years. He wanted to punch something.

  “I just wanted to see you, Matt. I wanted to know you were okay. After seeing your mom this morning, I just…I know Elliot told you to help, I’m going to tell you the same thing.”

  Donne jumped in. “Does that mean we are going to do it?”

  “Jesus Christ,” Herrick said. “When did you become a lap dog?”

  “If it wasn’t for your dad, I’d be dead.”

  “You said that already. And who gave you his name?”

  Kenneth put a hand on Herrick’s forearm. Herrick snapped it away. “Everyone needs to stop touching me right now and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  Kenneth just shook his head. “It was good to see you, son. I’m sorry if this is difficult, but I had to see you. And I need your help. I hope you consider it. Come on, Jackson.”

  They turned and walked toward the turnstile, and hopped it. Herrick counted to ten. He wasn’t any closer to understanding this, and now the world had tipped on its edge and everything else was out of focus. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his face. He counted to twenty.

  A mass of loud twenty-somethings made their way past him and through the turnstiles. They were talking about visiting some bars in the Village. They were laughing and pushing and shouting. Spring in New York. Day drinking, shenanigans and flip-flops. Stuff that he’d missed while he was in the sandbox. Life went by, people moved on. Herrick stared at his shoes, exhaled hard and climbed back up the stairs to Hoboken.

  His father was the reason he joined the military. Why he missed having a life.

  Ten minutes later, he opened the door to his apartment. Sarah was on the couch, knees up to her chin. The TV was blasting something on Home and Garden. She turned to him.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Are you okay?”

  They said the words simultaneously. His poker face must not have been on the ball that afternoon, because Sarah jumped off the couch and wrapped him in her arms. He squeezed her tight.

  “I just saw my dad for the first time in, God, it has to be ten years.”

  Sarah laughed. “I just saw him for the first time ever. Why was he here?”

  “He just wanted to see me. Something bad is going down, and I don’t know what it is. But he wants me to help.”

  Sarah ran her fingers through his hair, massaging the back of his neck. The air went out of him, in a good way, like the first sip of a drink after a long week.

  “What do you want to do?”

  Herrick laughed. “I want a big drink, but I don’t think I should.”

  “Okay.”

  “I need to go think this through. You promise you’re okay?”

  Sarah leaned back from him and nodded. “I can take care of myself. Anyway, he was kind of nice to me. In a creepy old man way.”

  Herrick shrugged. “He’s a creepy old man. I’m going to go to the gym. Want to come?”

  Sarah said, “Let me get changed.”

  Herrick did the same, and then he grabbed his basketball. The only way to clear your mind was to practice free throws.

  KENNETH STAYED mostly quiet in the city, save for a few directional tips. He wanted to walk through Central Park, so they did. They watched a group of men dance on roller skates. Nearby on the pond, some of the row boaters struggled to get their boats to turn. Donne wished he had a phone to play with.

  His phone didn’t work anymore. Not without Wi-Fi anyway. A lot of what he’d become accustomed to had gone by the wayside in just over a year. But being out in the open and unable to distract himself with technology was a bit of a culture shock.

  Probably not a good addiction to have.

  It didn’t seem to bother Kenneth. Then again, when he went away, the iPhone was just an internet rumor.

  Donne needed the distraction. Needed to be looking at something else, distracting himself with memes or clickbait articles. Anything but thinking about reality. Anything to keep from playing the visit to Elliot Cole’s house over and over again in his head.

  An hour later, they walked down Fifth Avenue as Kenneth window-shopped.

  “You know,” he said, “when we were kids, just dating, Tammy and I would come into the city at Christmastime. But she would never want to see the tree. She’d want to go to Macy’s or some of those other stores and look in the windows. You know what I’m talking about?”

  Something tickled Donne’s intestines, like a centipede crawling around in his gut. He knew exactly what Kenneth was talking about, because Jeanne liked to do the same thing. Kate never did, though. She wasn’t a city woman.

  She wasn’t anything anymore.

  Donne’s eyes burned. He caught himself and blinked the sting away.

  “I know about that stuff,” he said. “The Christmas decorations. I’m more a Thanksgiving guy.”

  Kenneth nodded. “You know, her face just lit up at that time of year. She loved it, and her mom would do the whole Seven Fishes meal on Christmas Eve. Those were the moments when we could just be. Not worried about the law or the next job. We were with family, and that was good. Ask Matt about it one day.”

  “Maybe I will, if we see him again.”

  “We will.” Kenneth chuckled. “You know, one year, we snuck in and stole one of the decorations. A caroler holding a candle in two hands. We just couldn’t resist that thrill.”

  Family wasn’t Donne’s strong suit. He and Jeanne would stay at home on Christmas Eve and order a pizza. Or Chinese food. Or he would work, busting up parties full of drugs. There were too many blurred Christmas Eves in his memory. And the blurring wasn’t because it was a long time ago.

  “Here’s what I don’t understand,” Donne said. “Why was it only you who went to prison? How’d you get caught?”

  Kenneth stared at Donn
e as they waited on a corner for the traffic light to change. It did, and Kenneth crossed.

  “When I went away, I told Elliot to take care of Tammy. To keep an eye on her. I didn’t want her to get caught, and no one did a better job of covering his tracks than Elliot. I didn’t think they would—” His voice caught. “Never thought they’d fall in love. They were too different. But times change. And now? He bought us out for a reason, Jackson.”

  “You’re not going to do this.” Donne wiped his face. “We have a chance to get away scot-free.”

  I can run and start over. Find Jeanne. Figure out who I am now.

  “This is my chance to save her, Jackson.”

  “Don’t be stupid. There’s more going on here. You said it yourself.”

  Kenneth looked up the street. “Down there somewhere? Wall Street. All the world’s money. Guy like me? I’d love a chance to raid it. World’s biggest heist and get away with it. No trace. Maybe this isn’t just about Tammy. But it’s a chance to do something big.”

  “And dumb.”

  “You owe me, Jackson.”

  Donne took a deep breath.

  “We can get away with this, and then you can have a life. One I missed out on the last ten years.”

  “Robbery. Being on the run. That’s not living, Kenneth.”

  They stopped on a corner. A guy in a suit bumped into Kenneth. Kenneth apologized and the suit kept walking.

  “You showed me that article. The one about Iraq and the Federal Reserve.”

  Kenneth nodded. “Shows it can be done.”

  “And then we went to see Matt.”

  Kenneth hesitated. A bus blared past them. A street vendor cooked hot dogs and pretzels.

  “I just wanted to see him and say hello.”

  Donne shook his head. “I think it was more than that.”

  Kenneth held up a wallet. One Donne hadn’t seen before. Donne whirled. The guy in the suit was gone, disappeared in a mass of foot traffic.

  “Want a hot dog?” Kenneth asked.

  “Iraq. Your son was in the Middle East,” Donne said. His synapses were firing in many different directions. “I can’t believe you just stole that wallet.”