by V. K. Powell
When she looked up again, Susan Cooper was coming down the stairs. Abby said, “The boy’s family is sending a car and their personal doctor.”
The woman nodded. “That’s good.”
Abby wiped her cheeks as tears dropped onto the phone she held in her trembling hands. She could’ve been killed tonight. A two-year-old could’ve been killed. It seemed surreal that they were safe in a neighbor’s home while only a few hundred yards away his mother and grandparents lay dead. What law of nature or God decided who lived and who died? She understood protecting the life of a child, but why was she worthy of deliverance?
She had to protect Loane. If further contact would even remotely jeopardize her safety, Abby would close that door until the case was finished, the suspects arrested, and she was free to tell the whole truth. She’d have to let Loane believe she’d died in the explosion tonight. The thought ripped at her insides like a sharp razor.
As she considered the injustice of it all, Susan Cooper cradled her and told her everything would be okay. She doubted it ever would. Three people she cared about were dead, she was returning to Miami in a role she no longer wanted to play, and she’d made a conscious decision to mislead Loane.
*
“Let me…” The words hung on the parched sides of Loane’s throat and refused to come out. She tried again. “Let me the fuck up.” Her voice was raspy and she wheezed like a heavy smoker.
“You’ve been injured.” A paramedic moved into her field of vision. “You need to be still. We’ve got to get you on oxygen and transport you ASAP.”
She struggled and then fell back, unable to catch a deep breath as paramedics strapped her to a stretcher. “She’s still in there.” She pointed toward the building and gauze bandages fell from her hand. The pain hit her with blinding force and she remembered. Abby. She’d tried to save Abby—and failed. The emotional pain momentarily masked the physical.
“Why don’t you relax and let the paramedics help you, Landry.” Dan Bowman stood over her. “You’ve got some nasty burns on your hands, smoke inhalation, and who knows what else. They need to get you to the hospital.”
She tried to get up again. “No. She’s still in there.”
“It’s too late for anybody in there.” He inclined his head toward the burning building behind them.
Loane wanted to argue with him, to hit him, to lash out at anything, but he was right. She’d seen the explosion and the bodies up close, too close. Abby was gone. She surrendered and collapsed on the stretcher, tears burning her cheeks.
The medics cupped an oxygen mask over her face as another man joined Bowman. She had never been officially introduced to the resident agent in charge of the Greensboro ATF office, but she recognized Gary Fowler from television and newspaper coverage.
“Bowman, I want this scene locked down, and I do mean now. This is an ATF investigation and I don’t want the local cops or sheriffs fucking it up. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve got some other agents on the way to relieve the locals. They’ll be here before the firefighters release the scene. Nobody talks to the press. Nobody releases names. Nobody breathes a word about this case except me.”
Why wouldn’t ATF want assistance from local police? They’d worked together for three months. She tried to say she would still be on the case, whether Fowler wanted her or not, but she started coughing and the paramedics rolled her away. She automatically clenched her hands into fists and the pain made her light-headed. Her last thought before she passed out again was that she’d been too late, too slow, and too weak. She’d failed, and this time it cost Abby her life.
When Loane woke up again, her brother, Tyler, was standing beside her bed, along with Eve Winters, an old friend of her mother, and her partner, Thomasina. “How long have I been out?” Her throat hurt when she spoke and her voice was still rough.
Tyler moved closer. “Couple of days off and on, mostly because of the pain meds. How do you feel?”
“Like road kill.” The mention of death prompted visions of bodies inside an SUV. “Have to get out of here.” She tried to get up, but Tyler put his hand in the middle of her chest and eased her back onto the bed.
“You can’t leave yet. Another day or two.”
“But I have to get to…”
Tyler shook his head. “No, you don’t.” It took her a few seconds to realize he was tactfully reminding her that what she’d seen had really happened. He motioned toward Eve and Thom. “These two have been here almost as much as I have.”
“Hi, guys,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Where else would we be?” Eve asked. Her wavy gray hair fell across her forehead and she brushed an impatient hand through it. Eyes the color of blue sky stared at Loane, and she could almost read the questions behind them. Thom stood next to her, the epitome of grace and controlled worry. She was a shapely package of all things soothing and nurturing rolled into one. Her dark-brown eyes and thick auburn hair reminded Loane of two things she loved, chocolate and coffee, and the comfort she got from both.
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Thom said. “Maybe I can get some decent food into you now. That stuff they’ve been peddling as healthy would make anybody sick.” Hospital food obviously offended Thom’s gourmet sensibilities.
Loane’s head felt fuzzy, but she was aware that Eve and Thom probably had questions about how she’d ended up in the hospital. She looked at Tyler and he shook his head slightly.
“Anybody want coffee?” Nobody took him up on his offer. “I’ve got a cop’s stomach, so I’m used to the hospital cafeteria. See you guys in a bit.”
When Tyler left, Eve and Thom stepped closer. “Could I have a sip of water, please?” Loane asked, and raised her bandaged hands. “I can’t do much of anything, including feed and water myself.” Thom held the plastic cup and straw so she could drink, then placed it back on the bedside table. “I know you’re wondering what happened.”
“You think?” Eve wasn’t one to hold back. She was notorious for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and not caring who liked or disliked it.
“Eve, you promised.” Thom’s reminder did little to slow Eve, the emotional steamroller.
“I want to know what the hell is going on.”
Loane took a deep breath and, between coughing spells and breaks for water, told them as much as she could about the gunrunner investigation without breaching confidentiality. “And because I didn’t do what I should’ve, three people are probably dead.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “Did a tree fall on your head? You can’t take responsibility for a bomb some nut job set. Contrary to what you might believe, you’re not the savior of the world.”
“I should’ve followed her, been there sooner, something.” She felt as helpless as she had that night.
Thom combed her fingers gently through Loane’s hair. “You couldn’t have prevented this, even if you’d been there with her. It wasn’t your fault.”
The words echoed inside her hollow chest but didn’t ring true. “I have to find out what happened. Where’s my cell? Maybe she’s tried to call.”
Eve pulled a cell phone out of the table drawer. “It’s been right here since the night you checked in, and I’ve left several messages on her voice mail. She hasn’t called.”
Loane stared at the offending device and hope seeped out of her body. If Abby were alive, she’d contact her. They cared about each other, and she wouldn’t let her suffer unnecessarily by thinking she was dead. Abby wouldn’t be that cruel.
Chapter Three
Four weeks after the explosion
Loane looked out on Eve and Thom’s 1920s granite Greek-revival-style house from the window of their garage apartment. The sandy rock shone in the morning sun against a backdrop of greenery that looked more like an English-castle setting than a neighborhood in Greensboro. A bright-red apron hung over the back of a chair in the sunroom—her signal that their morning quality time was over and she could jo
in them for breakfast. She pulled on a pair of elastic-waist pants, careful to use the tips of her fingers, and slid into a T-shirt. This had become her uniform when the bandages on her hands prevented full maneuverability. As she descended the stairs, she wondered what she would’ve done if these amazing women hadn’t taken her in after the explosion.
“Good morning.” Thom gave her a hug and held her in that motherly protective way she had of making everything seem all right, then pointed to her place at the table. “Blueberries or strawberries with your cereal?”
“Blue, please.”
“Have a seat, sport. We need to talk,” Eve said.
“Eve.” Thom’s emphatic warning clued Loane that whatever was coming had been the reason breakfast was slightly delayed this morning.
“Oh, Thom, she can handle it.” Eve directed her steely blue gaze on Loane and she knew she was in trouble. “So, I’ve been patient, for me anyway. What in the hell were you thinking, grabbing hold of hot metal?”
Loane sipped the lukewarm coffee Thom had prepared through a straw and wondered when she’d be able to have hot coffee again in a real cup she could hold instead of a kid’s sippy cup. “I wasn’t thinking, Eve. I just acted.”
“That proved to be a costly mistake, didn’t it?”
“Eve!”
“No, she’s right, Thom. It was an impulsive decision, not one of my finest moments.” She took another sip and met Eve’s stare. “Imagine if you thought Thom was trapped in a burning building and you might be able to save her. What would you do?”
Eve looked back and forth between her and Thom, grunted, and dug into her bowl of cereal and blueberries. That was as close to concession as she’d get. “I wasn’t aware that your relationship had progressed that far. We only saw her once and it seemed…casual.”
Loane wasn’t sure how to answer. She’d told herself the same thing that night. But the explosion had magnified her feelings for Abby, and she was trying to understand them. She still wasn’t sure what to call their relationship. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for me to move back home. I can manage on my own now.”
Thom stood behind her chair and rested her hands on her shoulders.
“That’s not why Eve brought this up, is it?”
With her mouth full, Eve shook her head emphatically.
“But I’ve been a burden too long, unable to bathe myself, wash my hair, or change my bandages. Hell, I couldn’t even lift a cup of coffee. You’ve already been way too generous with your time and your home.”
“Nonsense.” Thom squeezed her shoulders, then took a seat across from her. “We love you, Loane. You can stay here as long as you want.”
“She’s right,” Eve said.
“I know, guys, but I’m ready to go home. The hard part is over. The doctor says I can return to most activities but should probably wear light gloves for a while to protect the new baby skin.”
“What about scars?” Eve took another mouthful of cereal as nonchalantly as that famous bull that crashed things in a china factory.
Loane stared at the raw pink flesh of her palms and flinched. Gloves would be a must. She didn’t want people asking about the injury, and she didn’t want to be reminded every time she looked down. “Shouldn’t have much scarring, but my palms will be sensitive for months, maybe even years, especially to heat and sunlight.”
“That’s good. So…you heard anything from Abby?” The china continued to crash.
“Eve, really!” Thom gave her a look that would stop any creature great or small, but Eve didn’t even acknowledge her.
Loane had heard this question from her brother, Eve, and herself so many times that it shouldn’t be a shock, but it still felt like a brain freeze from eating ice cream too quickly. She stared at her cereal. She’d tried to get confirmation from ATF that Abby was one of the victims of the explosion. Even though she’d been there, she needed to hear the official verification. They’d refused comment. It gave her hope that Abby might still be alive.
“We called her from the hospital that night and several times since, just in case.” Eve was relentless. She probably wanted Loane to face facts and move on with her life. “Why do you think she hasn’t called?”
Loane mustered the courage to say the words aloud for the first time. “Because she’s dead.”
Thom’s soft gasp seemed to echo around them in the small sunroom. “Oh, Loane, there might be another explanation.”
“Yeah, like she doesn’t care enough to let me know she’s still alive and where she is?” Either option was unacceptable.
“Have you checked your messages lately?” Eve asked.
“Several times a day. I’ve called her, but nothing.”
Thom scooped a wedge of grapefruit and looked up at Loane. Her smiling eyes and soft expression always instilled comfort and hope. She was the Mother Teresa type who made everyone around her feel special. “Don’t give up. Maybe something else is going on that we don’t know about. Give her the benefit of the doubt, and take care of yourself. The answers will come.” She pointed to Loane’s bowl. “Eat. You’ve lost too much weight. You could give a girl a complex about her cooking skills.”
Thom had started a gourmet baked-goods company that had gone nationwide out of this kitchen, so Loane doubted anything could challenge her culinary confidence. “I haven’t been hungry. Sorry.”
“Thom thinks anybody who doesn’t eat isn’t well. Right, sweetie?” Eve stroked Thom’s hand in a rare display of affection, and the look that passed between them was pure love. “Can we watch the news before I go?”
Thom clicked on the small television beside the table as the local anchor pitched a segment outside the police department’s main entrance. “This morning Councilwoman Brenda Jeffries and ATF Resident Agent in Charge Gary Fowler announced the wrap-up of an extensive investigation into illegal weapons in the Triad.”
The camera focused on the two as the councilwoman spoke first. “This case confirms once again that Greensboro will not tolerate criminal activity, organized or otherwise. I have run on a law-and-order platform for years and will continue to do so in the next election. I’m honored to have supported ATF in this effort.”
Jeffries looked at Fowler, obviously the cue that it was his turn to speak. “We’re happy to have successfully closed this case, and we couldn’t have done it without the endorsement of Councilwoman Jeffries.” They stepped away from the microphone.
“Were any arrests made?”
“Have the victims of the explosion been identified?”
“Why is the press being denied access to public documents about this case?”
Jeffries and Fowler waved off the reporters’ questions and walked away.
“Well, that told us absolutely nothing,” Eve said.
“Exactly,” Loane replied. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Everything is smoke and mirrors. There’s been no connection to the Torres and gunrunning. They own gentlemen’s clubs, but that doesn’t mean they’re dealing weapons through them. At least three people are dead, a whitewashed murder investigation, no arrests, and yet these politicians are taking credit for a win against crime. Did you notice she didn’t even mention the Greensboro Police Department? How can Jeffries claim to be pro-law enforcement when she blocks us at every turn?”
“The truth will come out. Give it time,” Thom said.
“I don’t have time. I need to know the truth…now.”
Eve kissed Thom, patted Pretty Kitty, the big gray-and-white cat by her chair, and started toward the door. “While you two figure out the inner workings of our local political system, I’ve got to meet with my Realtor on the way to the museum.”
“Why do you still go there?” Loane asked. “Didn’t you finish the renovation months ago?” Eve was a self-made millionaire from prime real-estate investments, but she still worked from a small office in the historical museum.
“Because, like your father, I love history…an interest that you picked up. If we remember
our history, maybe we won’t have to repeat it. Remember that, grasshopper.” Eve waved good-bye and she and Pretty Kitty left.
“I don’t get it,” Loane said.
Thom shook her head. “She likes being surrounded by the things she loves, old buildings and history, while she works. I think that place got to her. I’m sorry about her questions. You’ve known her since you were a child. She says what’s on her mind and there’s no stopping her. If you tell her not to mention something, it’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
“I still can’t believe she and my mother were friends. They’re so different. Eve is out there, and Mom was always guarded. I don’t think my dad knew what she was thinking, ever.”
“That’s why they were good friends. It’s that old opposites-attract thing. So, are you going to work?”
“If you can call it that. Answering phones all day is not my idea of work, but it’s all I can manage at the moment. I can barely hold a pen to write notes.” She raised her hands in frustration.
“Let me put some more vitamin E on your palms before you go.” Thom rose and looped her arm through Loane’s. “The better care we take of your injuries, the sooner you can get back to real work.”
Forty-five minutes later Loane sat behind a desk in the watch commander’s office off the main lobby of the police department. This was the dumping station for non-emergency calls from the Communications Center and walk-ins from the street. All day she listened to whining citizens complain about everything from bad cops to smelly garbage and cheating lovers. No cop wanted this assignment because it had nothing to do with real police work and everything to do with public relations. The only saving grace of the duty was that the office had views to the lobby and outside that made daydreaming easier during lulls.
She was doodling on a notepad and doing hand exercises when a squad mate, Terry Cox, walked through the lobby. He glanced toward the office and quickly averted his gaze. Pushing back from the desk, Loane hurried to catch up.