Elpida
Page 23
He entered his parents’ bedroom, and the smell of smoke permeated his nostrils. Otherwise the room seemed pristine. He opened the door to the hallway slowly only to hear a groan from above, the skeletal frame of the house warning him it was unsafe.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Jake said softly.
Michael peered across the hall. The charred doorway to his bedroom looked ominous, the remains of the door hanging precariously on a hinge.
He carefully closed the door and headed to his parents’ walk-in closet. Slowly opening the door, he found the closet free of smoke odor. “Do you have your phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Call my dad and tell him the bedroom is okay.”
Michael pulled his mom’s luggage from the back of the closet as he listened to Jake call Mac. He set the bags on the bed and looked for his dad’s luggage. He found it in another corner of the closet, and he set those bags on the bed too.
Jake hung up. “My mom’s going to come pack stuff for your mom.”
“Thanks.”
“What about you?”
Michael shook his head as he gathered photographs from his mom’s nightstand and shoved them into one of her bags. “My room’s gone.”
“You have stuff at my house, and you can wear my clothes.”
“Yeah.”
Anna stepped through the french doors tentatively, and Jake kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mamma.”
“Why don’t you take Michael to see Bobbie?”
Jake nodded. “Let’s go check on your mom, bro.”
Anna hugged Michael gently. “Go, go. I will take care of your mother’s things.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Santini.”
Michael stopped in the laundry room and opened the washer. At that moment, his clean but still wet running clothes were the only clothes he owned.
Jake put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Dry ’em at my house.”
Michael collected the clothing, stuffed it into the bag with his gear, and slung the bag over his shoulder.
They carefully stepped through the layer of water that covered the living room floor. The crunching glass and squishy melted carpeting were inconsonant noises beneath their feet as they made their way to where Nero waited on the porch.
“It looks like the back of the house is okay.” Michael’s voice was flat, mirroring his numb nerves.
Nero put a comforting dinner-plate-sized hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this, Michael.”
Michael only nodded as he and Jake headed to the ambulance. A horrible screech sounded as firefighters lifted the garage door, and they turned.
“Oh, no. No!” Michael ran to the garage and stopped short as a firefighter held him back.
“The roof collapsed onto the cars.”
Michael looked at the charred vehicles and wanted to cry like a baby. Jake hooked an arm around his neck and turned him back toward the ambulance. “Don’t look at it. They’re insured. Let’s check on your mom.”
Michael wanted to paint the air with the f-bomb as they headed to the ambulance but knew it wouldn’t help a damn thing. He climbed in and hugged his mom. “The back of the house is fine. The den’s fine. Your bedroom’s fine.”
She nodded, and her lower lip quivered as she fought back tears.
“It’s okay, Mom. We’re okay.”
She stifled a sob and nodded again. “Go with Jake.”
“We’ll wait until you and Dad are ready to go.”
She shook her head, struggling to be brave, and tears began to fall. Her nose turned red and ran, and Michael’s heart nearly broke in two. He looked around for tissues. The EMT quickly handed them to her, and Michael hugged her tightly. “We’re okay, Mom. Everything will be okay.”
Jason’s hateful life-threatening actions had nearly shattered her. Now, to have Rich pick up where Jason left off was not only mind-boggling, but infuriating in a way Michael almost couldn’t describe. The white-hot rage he felt when he saw his mom upset and afraid made him want to turn vigilante and hunt Rich down.
Sophia’s ringtone emanated from Jake’s phone, and he stepped away from the back of the ambulance to take the call. He returned within moments, his expression dour. “Call Christy. We’re all over the news.”
Michael felt his pockets for his phone and, lo and behold, he hadn’t lost it in the turmoil of the fire. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Bobbie nodded and blew her nose.
Michael dialed Christy and got voice mail. He prayed like hell that Christy hadn’t seen the news yet as he dialed Rob. Luckily Rob answered on the first ring.
“Michael? Everything okay?”
“No. We’re all over the news. Someone firebombed our house tonight. Where’s Christy?”
Long beat of silence.
“He’s asleep. Are you all right?”
“Everybody’s okay.”
“I’d better wake Christy.”
“Don’t.”
“He’ll be furious if I don’t.”
“Give me an hour to get to Jake’s.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Let him sleep. He needs it.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, Rob.” Michael walked to where Jake stood still speaking with Sophia. “He’s asleep.”
Jake relayed the message to Sophia and turned back to Michael. “She wants to know what to say if he calls her.”
“Tell him we’re fine. I told Rob to give us an hour to get to your place before he wakes Christy.”
“Good plan.”
Jake returned to his phone conversation, and Michael climbed inside the ambulance again.
“Everything okay?” Bobbie asked.
Michael nodded. “Christy’s asleep, but we’re all over the news again.”
Bobbie rolled her lips together and shook her head as she fought back more tears.
A single knock sounded at the doorframe to the ambulance, and they turned to find Smitty standing there. “How you doing, Bobbie?”
Bobbie gathered herself up, strength and composure filling her mien. “Okay.”
“Good woman. Mind if I have a look?”
She shook her head. “Mac and Nero are in there.”
“I’ll be right back, Mom,” Michael said with another quick hug. She nodded, and he jumped down from the back of the ambulance and followed Smitty into the house.
Smitty stopped in the doorway and shook Nero’s and Mac’s hands. “They say anything about the incendiary device?”
“No,” Mac answered solemnly.
“Can I take a look?”
Mac gestured to the living room. “Please.”
Michael followed Smitty as he carefully stepped through the rubble. Smitty bent and picked a piece of glass out of the melted carpeting and examined it carefully, then frowned and walked to the bay window. The side windows were still intact, only the center pane broken by the toss of the Molotov cocktail. Smitty examined what remained of the center window and ran his fingers along the shards in the frame. Michael winced, certain he would cut his fingers. Smitty then looked at a lower side windowpane, withdrew a small flashlight from his pocket, and bent to examine the lower edge of it carefully.
“What are you looking for?” Michael asked as Jake stepped up beside him.
“You see this?”
Michael looked closely at the area haloed by the flashlight. The side edge of the window was spider-webbed, as if cracks began but the glass hadn’t had time to shatter.
“Yeah.”
“Not your ordinary poor man’s grenade.”
“Meaning?”
Smitty felt along the bottom of the window and pointed to it as he shined the light on it. It was cracked too, but it hadn’t shattered. The lower edge of the window bulged as if it had melted.
“Mighty hot to make glass slump like that. And look here.” Smitty ran his fingers along the edges of the shards that protruded from the window frame again. “Edges are soft. Not too many fuels can do that.”
“Nothin’ sold at your local gas station,” Smitty said in disgust. He turned and looked down the hallway. “Any way to get to the other window?”
Michael shook his head. “The hallway isn’t safe.”
“What room is that down there to the front of the house?”
“My bedroom.”
Smitty shot Michael a knowing look before trudging back to Nero and Mac.
“You have thoughts?” Nero asked.
“I do. I’ll call after I check something out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
JAKE DROVE and Michael rode in silence.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “This is seriously messed-up, Jake.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it. We just need to stay strong.”
“What’d Sophia say?”
“She’s losing it. With Ariel not talking, worrying about Christy, the Thimi thing, and now this, she’s a mess.”
“Sorry, bro,” Michael said absently as he watched the passing streetlights.
“We’ll sleep, deal with this thing tomorrow, and get back here to deal with this.”
“Yeah.”
“One step at a time, bro. One step at a time.”
Michael dialed his cell and put it to his ear.
“Michael?”
Christy’s voice sounded full of sleep. “Hey, babe, we’re okay,” he said quickly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be at Jake’s.”
“Your parents?”
“They’re okay.”
“Sophia said it is the firebomb like in my window?”
“Yeah, but we’re okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Michael, why does this happen?”
“I don’t know, babe. But everyone’s on it, and we’re okay. I’m going to Jake’s.”
“I cannot sleep with this knowledge.”
“Will you do a big favor for me?”
“Anything.”
“Sleep for me. We have to leave early for the city.”
“We cannot go now.”
“Of course we can. There’s no sense in hanging around here. We’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
Christy sighed. “I do not like this, Michael.”
“We’ll get through it. I want you to sleep so you’ll be ready to go in the morning.”
Christy sighed again. “Please call when you get to Jacob’s house?”
“We’re pulling into the driveway now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Are you certain you are okay?”
“We’re all okay, babe,” Michael repeated.
“Okay. I will see you in the morning.”
“Love you.” Michael terminated the call.
“Worthy lie,” Jake said softly.
“We’ll be at your place in ten minutes. Close enough.” Michael’s phone rang again, and he looked at it. “Hey, Dad.”
“I’m taking your mother to the hospital.”
Alarm zinged Michael’s spine. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s merely precautionary. Her blood pressure is still a little low. She’ll be fine, son.”
“Should I go there?”
“No. I only wanted to let you know where we’d be for an hour or so.”
“Okay.”
“You okay, son?”
“Yeah.”
“Liar.”
Michael smiled. “You should talk.”
Mac chuckled softly. “See you in a few hours. Get some rest.”
“Bye, Dad.” Michael turned to Jake. “He’s taking Mom to the hospital.”
Jake shook his head once. “You’re right, bro. This is seriously messed-up.”
Michael’s phone rang again, and he looked at it. It was Lisa, and he didn’t have the energy to speak with her, so he let it go to voice mail.
Jake glanced at him askance. “Lisa?”
“Yeah.”
“Bets on how long ’til she calls mine?”
Michael mouthed one, two, three. “Now.”
Jake’s phone rang.
JAKE PULLED into the gated drive at his house, and security followed. He parked under the portico, and he and Michael got out of the car.
“Thanks for talking to Lisa,” Michael said as they climbed the steps to the front door.
“No worries, bro. Let’s hit the hay.”
Jake dug in a pocket for his keys, turned to unlock the door, and his SUV exploded.
They instinctively hit the ground as a fireball shot skyward, instantly charring the portico above. The house alarm began a deafening wail as shrapnel flew and bounced off the portico, and they shielded their heads with hands and arms as metal scraps rained down on them.
“Get inside!” Tad shouted as he and John helped them to their feet.
Jake fumbled with the keys, swore, and managed to get the front door open just as the security vehicle went up in flames.
Tad slammed the front door. “Get to the back of the house!”
“Douse the alarm!” Jake shouted over the din.
“Leave it!”
Jake shot Tad a furious look before grabbing Michael’s arm and hauling him across the foyer, through the formal living room and dining room, and into the kitchen at the back of the house.
“What in hell was that all about, Jake!”
Jake grabbed a dishtowel and handed it to Michael. “No idea, man! No freakin’ idea! Wrap that around your arm!”
“Wha—?” Pain hadn’t registered, and Michael was surprised to find his arms covered in scratches and gashes. Michael used his teeth to grip the end of the towel and knot it tight.
Jake did the same and handed Michael a second towel before opening the refrigerator and grabbing four bottles of water. He pointed to the doors leading to the back patio and led Michael through them. Once Jake closed the doors, the blaring tocsin wasn’t as raucous in the back of the house, and Michael could almost hear himself think.
Jake handed two bottles of water to Michael, and he set them on the patio railing.
Jake swore again. “It takes a hell of a lot of muscle to throw something over the gates and hit a car seventy feet away under a portico.”
Michael leaned a hip against the railing as he finished tying the second towel, tried to cross his arms over his chest, and then thought better of it when he saw blood seeping through the towels. “Jake?”
Jake opened a bottle of water and drank deeply. “What?”
“What if it wasn’t thrown?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What if somebody put something in your car when you were at my house?”
Jake pointed a finger at Michael. “That is so not funny, bro.”
“Say something or I will.”
Jake opened the door to the house, freeing the sound of the deafening alarm once again. “Tad!”
Tad entered the kitchen and continued to the back, a phone held to his ear. “Yes, sir! … Yes, sir! … One moment, sir!” He held the phone out to Jake. “Your father!”
“We’re fine!” Jake shouted into the phone.
“Don’t leave the house.” Nero’s voice was grave.
“Check your car! Michael thinks someone may have put something in mine while we were at his house!”
A string of vicious Italian left Nero’s lips, and Jake held the phone away from his ear.
“Tell him to put extra security on Wellington!” Michael shouted over the blaring alarm.
Jake reached for the back doors and slammed them, bringing the sound of the alarm to a bearable level. “Papà, Michael wants you to put extra security on Wellington.”
Nero swore again. “Let Tad handle the media when they arrive. We’ll be there shortly. Let me speak with Tad again.”
Jake handed the phone back to Tad and turned back to Michael. “I seriously hope you’re wrong, bro.”
Michael looked out over the vast, serene estate. He was pretty damn sure he wasn’t.
DETECTIV
E DAVIS made another note on his pad as Mac stitched a deep gash in Jake’s arm.
“I want you two riding in security vehicles for the duration,” Nero said calmly.
Jake and Michael said nothing.
A firefighter entered the room, removed his helmet, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of an arm before handing a piece of paper to the detective. From the insignias on his gear, Michael guessed him to be the battalion chief.
Detective Davis read it and looked at him. “Any idea as to fuel?”
“Nonstandard. We’ll let you know what the lab says.”
Detective Davis dug a business card from his breast pocket and handed it to him. “Thank you.”
The chief departed, and Detective Davis turned to Michael. “You were correct. It was some sort of explosive device set to detonate ten minutes after you started the ignition. One was also attached to the Santinis’ vehicle.”
Michael and Jake exchanged nervous glances before Jake asked, “Why ten minutes?”
“To ensure you were away from emergency personnel when they detonated.”
Michael tried to keep his mouth from hanging agape as he sat at the kitchen island and Bobbie cleaned the gashes on his arms and nape of his neck. “This needs to stop,” Michael said with a viciousness he hadn’t intended.
“Where, exactly, were you parked?” Detective Davis asked.
Jake blew a long breath. “When we got to Michael’s, the street was full of emergency vehicles, so I parked across the street and down about half a block.”
“I parked behind Jacob, and security behind me,” Nero said.
Anna set a tray of antipasto and finger foods on the island and brushed a hand over Jake’s hair.
“I’m okay, Mamma.” He kissed her cheek.
“Try to eat something.” She poured a glass of red wine and handed it to Nero. “Bobbie?”
She glanced at Anna and nodded, then went back to studying a particularly deep gash in Michael’s arm. “I think you still have something in this.”
“Dad will fix it.”
Mac glanced at him with a brief smile before finishing the stitches in Jake’s arm. “Scarecrow, I believe your stuffing is safe.”