The Way Back: Chapter 34

"Good evening, Todd."  McBain said, standing at the door of the penthouse.  "I know it's late."

"What's up John?  Don't you call first?"  Todd said, with just pajama pants and an a-shirt on, as John helped himself into the room.  Blair was frantically pulling herself together, pullling down her camisole and tucking her hair behind her ear, smoothing it.

John took note of everything in the room.  Two glasses of wine, a plate of cheese and fruit, and a tousled blanket.  A fire was going.  "Sorry, I seem to have interrupted something."

"No, John, what can we do for you?"  Blair said.  Her silk pajama bottoms were a bit twisted at the waist.

"It's about the death of Tomas DelGado," he began.

"I told you, Todd was with me," she said.

"I realize that, but I have to ask again, just to be sure."

Todd was watching carefully, to see if McBain was just doing his routine or if he truly believed he was a murderer.  "I was here with Blair.  She's telling the truth.  You don't really believe I killed Tomas, do you?"

"What I believe is not important.  What happened is.  Do you own a gun, Manning?"

"No.  I used to, but I don't anymore.  Not sure if you noticed that I traveled light for the last eight years.  Most of the time, people had weapons on me, not the other way around.  I really thought you were different, John.  Seems to everyone, I'm still a criminal, a convict."

Blair moved to her man's side, touching his arm.  "John, he was here.  That should be enough, both our words."

"It should.  It won't be, for some people, so I want to make certain it's airtight.  Did you leave the penthouse at all, Todd, during the night?"

"No.  I was here.  We were upstairs, together."

"Blair, you can attest for every minute?  He never left you?"

"Yes, and no, he did not."

"All right."  Officially, "Manning, did you kill or have any knowledge of who killed Tomas Delgado?"

"No."

He has to be telling the truth.  She was here with him.  He's been through a lot, perhaps Blair's right, he can only focus on his family right now.  Besides, look at the guy.  John's eyes roamed Todd's shoulders and arms, where there were healed marks and some that still were healing.  They ranged from circular burns, scrapes, needle punctures, and odd skin markings to the bands on his wrists that John knew also were on his ankles.  "Manning, I know you've been through a lot.  I have to ask because there's pressure on the DA's office from someone who believes you had reason and are the killer.  So, I had to make certain.  There's no reason that camera footage would catch you leaving here, or around the Manning Place?"

Todd's face took on a sarcastic shape.  "The Manning Place?  Huh.  Nope."

John looked at Blair, "I'm sorry, Blair.  I just have to be sure, cover all the bases.  And while I'm here, can I see that lighter?"

Todd looked at Blair and she returned the look.  "Sure, John, but...."

"Can you tell me where it is, please?"

Blair lead John upstairs to their bedroom, which was still in disarray from the morning when they had rushed off to their day.  Todd, alone in the living room, used the curving railing to steady himself.  He rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes closed.  In front of him, stood The Slice and Dice, as he called him, holding his oddly shaped skinner in his hand.  Todd backed away a few steps.  The Slice and Dice was a short man, much shorter than Todd, with broad, muscular shoulders and a thin waist.  His face had a scar like Todd's, only smaller and across the chin.  He tapped the blade of the skinner grotesquely against his own palm to a rhythm only he and Todd could hear.  He knew that beat; it signaled the terrible thing to come next, when he would take that blade, and use it.  The pain would be white hot like a match head being put out at first, and then agonizing as his flesh was exposed.  All of them, all of his "handlers" liked to make him scream, and The Slice and Dice was no exception. 

He said in a surprisingly calm tone, "No," and backed away, as Blair and John descended the stairs, with the lighter in a plastic evidence bag, chattering.  Blair looked to her lover, and saw something terribly wrong in his face.  Is he in another place?  "Todd?"

His head turned to her immediately.  "Yeah?"  He was quivering, she noticed sweat on his brow and above his lip.  His chest was heaving.  He realized that her voice had ended the episode before it even got going.  I am getting better.  I can do this.  I can face it.

"Todd, are you all right?"  she went to him, gently touching his shoulders to steady him and look into his eyes.  Unable to repel the pain of the memory that was interrupted, he broke down in her arms.  "It's okay, it is.  Shhhh.  Remember what Ray said?  It's going to get better.  You fought that one, you didn't go away, you're here."

"And now I just have to feel it.  It's just so hard,"  he said through tears.

"I know.  Shhhh."

John made himself inconspicuous in the background.  He was almost positive, in his deepest gut, that Todd Manning was not a killer.  But other questions loomed for him.  He waited, back turned to the two of them, until he heard Todd's voice again, and not in sobs.  "McBain, I'm sorry.  I'm just working through some things in therapy," he sniffed a bit, and being Todd, he wiped his brow and tears on his own arm. 

"That's quite all right, I am the intruder here.  I just wanted to ask you about this lighter."  He was careful not to raise it into view.  The poor guy was just pulling it together.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Who has touched it or held it that you know of?"

He thought, "you mean lately?  Ever?"

"Ever."

"Me, Blair, my adoptive father Peter Manning.  Sam Rappaport might have, way back.  Those are the only people I've seen hold it.  Excuse me," he said, taking a drink of water from the bar and then rethinking it, and though it was nearly bedtime, he poured a shot of Scotch and downed it.  Wincing, he took three deep breaths.

"Manning?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry you've been through such a living Hell.  And I'm sorry I added to it today, but I had to come over.  Just doing my job."

He nodded, sighing.  Blair said, "We know, John.  Just what is this interest in the lighter, though?"

"I am checking to see if someone is gaslighting your husband," John said, walking toward the door.  "I'll let myself out."  And he was gone.

Todd looked at her.  "At least he knows you're my wife, even if you're not."

She slid her arms around his waist, "Always your wife, Mr. Manning.  Upstairs?"

"In a few minutes, I was thinking...I think I need to be alone for a few minutes."

"All right."  She kissed him softly, gently, with the tenderness and passion that he had missed so much.  "I'll be up there, you take all the time you need."

A few hours later, she felt someone move next to her.  "Are you all right?  Todd?"  A voice said something, but the words faded into darkness as she fell back into sleep.

***

"Tomas is really gone."  Tea said with resolve, as her husband wheeled her into the foyer of their home.

"Yeah,"  he said.  He was never the best at comfort.  "I'm sorry."

She took her hand and intentionally crashed a vase with flowers to the floor.  "He did it!  I know he did!  That monster!  He hasn't changed,"  she raged.

She looked at her husband, "Help me onto the couch and sit across from me, I want to look right into your face when I say this."

He did as she asked, and sat across from her.  She pulled his face to the front with one hand and said, "Todd Manning."

He looked back at her, emotionless.  He'd had a lot of practice numbing himself.  "Yes, Tea DelGado Manning?"

"NO!"  she cried, "Todd Manning is the monster who did this, and you..."  she sighed and sniffled, her tears flowing, "you are not him."

"Oh yeah?"  he yelled back at her, "Then who the hell am I, Tea?  You doubt me, now?"

"You're a liar!"

"I'm not a liar.  I'm me, your husband.  You've been through a shock, I understand, but this is ridiculous.  The DNA test, you know who I am."

She laughed in that way she did while crying.  "No.  No I don't!  Why do you keep lying to me?"  she started to scream, and pounded his chest, "Why?  You're not Todd Manning.  You're not him!"

He moved back from her assault and his look became very cold.  She sobbed, and then caught his glance and froze.  "What, are you going to kill me?  Hurt me?  The one you are supposed to love?  The one you profess to love more than your life?  I've known.  I've known since the first time you made love to me, wildly, passionately, right there in that foyer, that you were not Todd Manning."

He did not respond.  Instead, he watched her, with a callous stare, his fists were balling up on each side of him.

She brought down her voice, "I love you.  Does that matter?" She saw him unclench his fists.  She continued, "Do I matter?  What if you're not mister high and mighty Manning?  What if you're not and I know it.  Would it matter that I loved you, still?"

Without warning, he grabbed both sides of her face, pulling her mouth to his, and kissed her, licking her lips and tongue, and accepting hers against him.  She couldn't fight it, and wanted him, more.  He continued to tongue her, and moved his hands from both sides of her face to her breasts, where he roughly squeezed at her nipples, and then, he pulled back.

He made a move to go, backing off and starting to move away, then standing and backing away from her.  He watched her as he went.

"No, don't do this!  Don't go off away from me!  You know how I hate that!" He just continued stepping backward, watching her, tears in his own eyes, and heard her again, screaming, "Who are you?  Don't leave me!" she sobbed, as he slammed the door behind him.

***

Blair awoke with a start.  The room was pitch black.  She felt for him, next to her, and he wasn't there.  Looking at the clock, the numbers 3:15 glowed in the darkness.  She felt groggy, tired, and disoriented.  She called out, "Todd?"  No answer.

She got her robe, and put it on.  Checking in the kids' rooms, she remembered that they chose to spend the night at La Boulaie with Addie, Sam, Hope and also Dorian, who was in town visiting.  "Blair, come on, everything's all right."  She assured herself.

Descending the spiraling staircase in the dark, she used the graceful railing as a guide.  "Todd?"  she called again.  The house was too dark.  She felt foggy, tired.  If there was one thing about her man that she knew, was that since his return, the dark was not a pleasant place for him.  He would have a light on.  He would.

The fire was only embers, and a few of them glowed blood-orange.  She fumbled her way to the wall switch and turned the overhead lights on.  Todd was not in the room, not by his windows, not in their bed.  Running to the kitchen, she returned to the living room and to the phone.  "Viki, Viki I am sorry.  Is Todd there?  No?  He's gone Viki, he's gone.  I woke up and he was gone."  She ran her fingers through her hair and her eyes caught a suspicious mark on her forearm.  Looking closer, she realized what it was.  Oh my God!

"Blair?  Blair what is it?"  Viki called to her from the other end.

For some reason, she was slow to react.  "Oh my God, Viki," Blair began to panic, and fought against her own atrophy, "help me.  Please.  Call John, please?  Please help us, Oh Viki,"  And she hung up, collapsing to the floor in sobs. "No, God, please.  Please don't let this be true.  No, not again.  Todd!"

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