by Nick James
“Mmm-mmm, what is it?” Emily asked rolling over. Bobby had turned on the hall light, then closed the bedroom door almost shut so that just a sliver of light entered the room. It was barely enough to see, but he could tell she kept her eyes closed and he wasn’t sure she was still awake when he answered.
“Just going to hop on the computer for a moment and check something out. You go on back to sleep.”
“Hmmm-mmm,” she said then rolled back over and began to snore softly.
He quickly dressed, stepped out into the hall and hurried toward the living room. Miguel and Jesús were already there dressed, both of them holding a holster in their left hands ready to pull their pistols out. He hurried past and looked out the front window, three fire trucks were parked out on the street now, lights flashing. Four firemen in heavy equipment charged into the underground parking area as heavy, black smoke rolled out the door and up the side of the building. The street was now illuminated by flashing lights from the fire trucks and two police cars. Further down the street two more sets of flashing lights could be seen racing toward them, sirens gradually growing louder.
“A fire?” Miguel asked.
“Must be, looks like it’s coming from the underground parking. I’m going to go down there and check it out,” Bobby said.
Miguel moved toward the door and Bobby shook his head, “Cops and firemen around. You two better wait here,” he said, then indicated the pistols in their hands with a nod. “Emily is asleep in my room. Don’t wake her.”
The elevator was out of order, or maybe it was functioning on some sort of security system, not working since there was a fire in the building. He had to take the stairway next to the elevator to make his way down to the parking level. By the time he reached the parking level there were three other men with him. All of them looked like they’d just pulled something on and quickly gone out the door. Two guys were already at the bottom of the stairs, standing there with the door open watching the firemen. One of the men was in shorts, slippers and a t-shirt. The other was barefoot, in what looked like a swim suit. The landing was smoky.
The one in the swim suit turned to watch as Bobby and the other three came down the final steps. He said something to them but the car alarms going off were so loud that he couldn’t be heard. Bobby read his lips and he’d said, “What the hell?”
The guy turned back toward the smoke-filled parking area. A huge cloud of black smoke rolled around the ceiling before heading up and out the open garage door. A half dozen firemen with large canisters strapped to their backs sprayed foam over four cars or what was left of them. A large scorched area ran up the concrete wall where his Mercedes was parked. Make that where it had been parked. A mound of foam and debris was scattered all over. Bobby hadn’t driven the Mercedes for days so why would it… He stopped himself in mid-thought then turned and hurried back up the stairs.
By the time he’d made it up to his floor, the physical undertaking of climbing multiple flights had exhausted him, at least for the moment to the point where he was more or less calmed down. The distant chirping car alarms could still be heard and his ears were ringing from just the short time he’d stood at the base of the stairs.
Miguel and Jesús looked up at him expectantly as he entered the unit. “I think you guys better leave.”
Jesús asked the obvious, “Is it a fire?”
“Yeah, but from the looks of things it was caused by an explosion. My car. My goddamned Mercedes, the things absolutely destroyed. Burned. In pieces. Christ Almighty!”
“A bomb?”
“What?”
“A bomb? Your car? Was it a bomb?”
“A bomb?” Bobby repeated, the question slowly began to make sense.
“The girl,” Jesús said and looked at Miguel. “Car keys?”
Bobby looked around. He usually set his key’s on the small table next to the door. He was pretty sure that’s where they’d been. But if they’d been there, they sure as hell weren’t there now.
He hurried down the hall to his bedroom. Emily was still on her side, sound asleep. The lights from down on the street gave a sort of strobe-light effect to her figure as they flashed through the bedroom window. The gentle curve of her hip, the tapering of her gorgeous legs were outlined by the pulsing red and blue lights coming through the window. He quietly stepped over and lowered the shade, casting the room in a deeper darkness, although the flashing lights still managed to somehow creep into the room from around the edge of the window shade.
He ran his hand across his dresser-top in search of his keys, then rifled through the pockets of his trousers on the floor where Emily had dropped them. He opened his closet and searched the pockets of the suit he’d worn to the funeral, although he’d been driven by Miguel and Jesús for the past couple of days.
No, he’d left the keys on the small table next to the door. He was sure of it. An automatic action each and every time he stepped into his unit. He always placed his keys on the table.
He hurried back to Miguel and Jesús waiting in the living room. Miguel was looking out the window. Jesús was standing at the door looking through the peephole.
“You’re going to have to leave,” Bobby said. “Right away.”
“What is it?” Miguel asked, turning back from the window.
“She took my car keys. It was my car that exploded.”
Both their eyes grew wide. “Your car?” Miguel asked and even in the dim light Bobby could see the color drain from his face. Jesús gave him a look that suggested they both might be screwed.
“I’ll cover it with Luis. I’ll call him. But the police are going to be here sooner or later, asking questions. A lot of questions.”
Jesús growled something in Spanish and pointed his pistol at Miguel. Miguel pleaded something back. Bobby didn’t understand exactly what had been said, but he got the gist of it. “No, no, Jesús don’t. Unless I explain it to Luis, he’s going to kill both of you.”
Jesús’s eyes flared looking back and forth from Bobby to Miguel. Eventually, he lowered his weapon, seemingly resigned to his fate.
“I want the two of you to wait here for a moment. I’ll be right back. Promise me no trouble,” he said looking from one to the other. Miguel nodded, Jesús seemed to think about it for a long moment before he gradually gave a slow nod, then glared at Miguel.
“Promise me, I’m only going to be a moment. Just grabbing my cellphone,” he said as he hurried back to the kitchen. He unplugged his cell from the charger on the kitchen counter, then hurried back to the living room. “I’m going to call, Luis.”
A look of fear seemed to sweep over both their faces.
“I’m going to tell him the woman was with me, stole my car keys and was going to take my car and it exploded. I’ll tell him the police will be here shortly and it’s best for all of us if the two of you are not here. Okay?”
They both nodded and seemed to be relieved, at least a little, as Bobby dialed the phone.
It rang five times before a groggy voice answered, “Si.”
“Luis, it’s Bobby Custer. I’m sorry to bother you at this hour.”
The voice on the other end suddenly sounded completely awake. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”
“Yes, but a problem has developed.” He went on to explain the situation to Luis, ending with, “I think it would be best if Miguel and Jesús left. The police will undoubtedly be here asking questions. I can tell them she stole my keys, which is true. But I don’t want them, or more importantly, you, connected to this in any way.”
There was the briefest of pauses before Luis said, “Yes, that would seem like your best option, our best option. Call me after you’ve talked with the police. I’ll be checking on some things,” he said, then hung up.
“Go,” Bobby said. “Pack your things and hurry. The police could be here any moment. The elevator is shut down so you’ll have to use the stairway. Leave by the rear building entrance. If you go out the front door, they’re l
iable to stop you.”
Jesús was already hurrying down the hall to the guest room. Miguel stopped and looked at Bobby. “Thank you. I’m in your debt.”
“Yeah, you are and I don’t plan to forget. Now hurry, you don’t have much time.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Once he closed the door behind them, Bobby hurried into his bedroom, debated about waking Emily for a half-second, then placed a hand on her hip and gently shook her.
“I’ll do you in the morning, baby,” she groaned.
“Emily, Emily, wake up.”
“Huh? Mmm-mmm, no, no.”
“Come on, wake up. You have to get up.”
“Mmm-mmm, what time is it?”
“It’s early. There’s a fire down…”
“Fire?” she half screamed as she sat up.
He looked at her for a moment, actually stared at her naked body, then dismissed his initial thought. “Yeah, there’s a fire down in the parking area. Just a safety precaution, but they want everyone out of the building.”
“Fire?” she said, rolling out of bed, picking her thong off the floor and pulling it on. She stepped into her slacks, then grabbed her blouse off the top of the dresser and slipped it on as she hurried barefoot into the bathroom. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked a moment later, then flushed the toilet and stepped out of the bathroom looking for her shoes.
“I think you left them by the front door.”
“What?”
“Your shoes, they’re out in the living room by the front door.”
She hurried down the hall, grabbed her purse off a dining room chair, then stepped into them and looked at Bobby. “Well?”
“You’ll have to take the stairs. The elevator is turned off as a security precaution.”
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you leaving?”
“I have to get a couple of things together. You just get out and head home. I’ll call you when I can.”
“Okay,” she said, not waiting a second longer. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then hurried out the door, down the hallway and headed for the stairs without looking back. Bobby watched out the window as she came out of the front door, hurried across the street and half-ran down the block to her car. There was still some smoke coming out of the parking area, but nothing like it had been just fifteen minutes before. The car alarms continued to chirp, but there seemed to be a much calmer sense to the movements of the firefighters down on the street.
Bobby grabbed Addison’s thong and bra off the coffee table and carried them back to the kitchen. He put the coffee on, then grabbed a bottle of Windex and went out to attack the top of the coffee table while the pot brewed. Once that was finished he straightened up the guest room, made the bed, showered, shaved, got dressed for the office, made some breakfast, and tossed his spare set of keys in his pocket.
He was sipping coffee and checking the news online when there was a knock on the door. It was just after seven in the morning and his first thought was, ‘it’s about damn time.’
He looked through the peephole on the door, saw two police officers standing on the other side, and called, “Who is it?”
“St. Paul Police, I’m afraid there’s been a fire.”
“A fire?” Bobby said as he opened the door and did his best to look surprised.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“You’re Mr. Custer?” The shorter of the two asked. They were dressed in short sleeve, light-blue shirts, with dark-blue epaulets and flaps over the breast pockets. Their last name and first initial was embroidered in gold thread above the right breast pocket, and a silver badge was pinned above the left. The cop talking was officer Wayne, J. Bobby had to bite his tongue to stop from asking if that stood for John Wayne?
“Mr. Custer?” he asked again.
“Yes, yeah, that’s me. What’s this about?”
“You didn’t notice the activity outside this morning?”
Bobby glanced to the right, as if looking out the front window. “Activity? No. What’s going on?”
“There was an explosion in the parking area.”
“Explosion?”
“Yes, it looks like your car was damaged.”
“My car, you have got to be kidding. Damaged? How bad is it? Can I get to work this morning?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Custer,” the other cop said. He was standing behind John Wayne, a full head taller. “Your car is, well, it’s in pieces.” His name was Thompson, with a first initial of C.
“Pieces,” Bobby half shouted hoping he sounded surprised. “Oh, look, I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten my manners, please come in, come in,” he said holding the door open and stepping aside.
The two cops stepped in and glanced around, but more like they were just taking in the scenery rather than looking for anything specific.
“Please, please have a seat,” Bobby said indicating the couch, then he sat down in a chair opposite the two of them. Once everyone was settled he said, “I’m sorry, I’m still not sure I’m following. You said an explosion?”
“Yes sir,” said Wayne, J. He glanced at his partner as if to say, “I’ve got this one.”
“An explosion? That doesn’t make any sense. I just had it serviced within the last week or two. To tell you the truth, I haven’t driven it in the past two or three days.”
Wayne pulled a small notebook out of his right breast pocket. He held a pen in his right hand and sat posed ready to write. “Out of town?” he asked.
“No, no nothing like that. A business associate of mine passed away, after a long illness. The wake was the other night, funeral yesterday. I went with friends, helped out his wife, that sort of thing.
“Who passed away?”
“Gentleman’s name was Noah Denton. He was one of the partners at Denton, Allan, Sawyer and Hinz. Founding partner, actually.”
Wayne jotted something down, without looking up he said, “So you practice law? You’re a lawyer?”
“I handle some business aspects for certain clients. I’m never in the courtroom if that’s what you mean,” he said hoping he wouldn’t have to mention his disbarment or Morris Montcreff.
Wayne kept writing and nodding as he did so.
“No problems with the car that you’re aware of?” Thompson asked.
“No, none. It was running fine. I have to tell you the only thing I ever did was fill the gas tank. Anything remotely mechanical required and I’m the last guy who should be trying to fix it. I’d do more damage than good,” Bobby said, then half laughed.
Thompson sort of studied Bobby for a brief moment, moving his eyes up and down then he nodded like this made perfect sense.
“You sure I can’t drive it? I was getting all set to head to the office,” he said, then pulled the spare set of keys out of his pocket and sort of dangled them to help make his point.
“I think you better plan on calling a cab,” Wayne said. “There isn’t much left of it.”
“Can I get down there to see it?”
Wayne looked at Thompson and they both nodded to one another. You’ll have to take the stairs, elevator has been shut down. It’ll be that way until it’s inspected. Obviously they want to make sure it’s safe before anyone steps back inside.”
“How long might that be?”
Thompson shrugged, “Twenty-four, maybe forty-eight hours, tops, I would think. Would you happen to have a card, Mr. Custer? Just in case we have any more questions we could call rather than take up your time at the office or you having to come down and visit us.”
Bobby pulled out a couple of business cards from a coat pocket and handed one to each of them. “I can’t believe this. And you don’t know what caused this explosion? Think it was a gas leak?”
“No idea at this stage,” Thompson said getting to his feet. Wayne followed a moment later, tucking the notebook back into his right breast pocket.
“We’ve got someone else to talk to upstairs,” Wayne said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Custer.”
“I’m still in shock, but at least no one was hurt,” Bobby said then watched for a reaction.
They didn’t give one. He held the door as they left then watched through the peephole as they walked down the hallway. If one of them made a comment, he missed it.
Chapter Fifty
He made his way back down the staircase alone. On the second floor a guy he’d seen but didn’t know entered a few steps behind him. “Sounds like quite the mess. Have you seen it, yet?”
“No, about to get my first look,” Bobby lied. “You hear anything about a cause?”
“No, everyone seems to have hushed up. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Bobby nodded as he stepped onto the final flight of stairs. There were voices coming from the parking area. The acrid smell of smoke, burnt rubber, oil, and some other things he couldn’t identify permeated the air. “I wonder if it was just a gas leak and some careless smoker,” Bobby said.
“Ahhhh, I think it might be just a little more serious than that,” the other fellow said in a tone suggesting Bobby didn’t have a clue.
They stepped off the staircase and walked into the underground garage. At least the chirping alarms had stopped. All the car alarms were silent. A number of people were in their cars, moving them out of the parking area just as quickly as possible.
“Enjoy your day,” the guy said and hurried past him to the far corner of the parking area.
A quick glance at the wreckage suggested four, maybe five cars were damaged, make that totaled. What remained of Bobby’s Mercedes lay in pieces. The largest portion of the car body was upside down and burnt to a crisp. The area was taped off with yellow tape with black letters. The tape read Crime Scene Do Not Cross. There were ten or twelve people in the area who looked official. Four were in hazmat suits working with small brushes and collecting things in plastic bags. BCA Crime Scene Team was stenciled on the back of the hazmat suites in yellow letters. Close to a dozen small yellow-plastic tents, maybe three or four inches high with a black number on them were placed around the area. No sign of idiot Addison, although Bobby figured he was probably looking at what was left of her. It was just that she was scattered all over the place. There were a half-dozen people watching the BCA team from behind the yellow tape. Bobby recognized two of them, Detectives Daryl Woodley and Carrick. At the moment they were involved in a conversation, pointing to the scorch marks on the ceiling. Thankfully they didn’t seem to notice him. He hurriedly made his way in the opposite direction, moving along the front of a number of cars before he cut over toward the open garage door and walked out onto the street.