Page 76 of Harbor

Done deal.

“Okay, then.”

• • •

Stepping inside the convenience store, Renzo pulled the wallet from his back pocket. He moved into the line already waiting at the cash to pay for their items, and eyed the premade firework packages behind the counter. Despite telling Diego he would ask Micheal that morning if they could set off some fireworks at his place, he’d called their uncle the night before to make the request.

Like he thought, Micheal didn’t have a problem with it. Renzo figured he could surprise Diego by buying the fireworks, dropping them off at their uncle’s place, and then just take Diego over later that night to see what was going to happen. He’d say they were going over to have pizza, and the kid wouldn’t know anything different.

Worked for him.

Diego would love it, too.

That sounded like a win-win to Renzo.

Soon enough, he was stepping up to the cash. The red-headed woman behind the register cocked an eyebrow at him. A silent question of, what can I do for you? Politeness really was a lost fucking art, but whatever.

Renzo pointed at one of the medium-sized firework kits over her head. “Can I get that middle one there, please? Thanks.”

The woman turned to reach for the kit in question, but before setting it on the counter for him, she said, “I’m gonna need to see some ID. Policy, you know.”

He might have rolled his eyes on any other day, but mostly, the request just irked him. He still had that fake ID from Tucker, like Lucia still had hers, too, but they’d never had to use them. If the woman cared to look at the picture on the ID, she was going to quickly see the guy wasn’t him. At the same time, Renzo didn’t want to ruin his plans for Diego and the fireworks.

So, he opened the wallet in his hands, flipped it over to show the ID in the slot, and gave the woman a look. “That good enough for you?”

Already, he had flipped it back around. Her gaze hadn’t even drifted from his face to check out the ID. She said policy, not law. So maybe the woman didn’t really give a damn. He didn’t know.

“Fine by me.”

She rattled off the price of the kit, and Renzo was quick to pull out the bills needed to pay for it. She offered him a bag to put the kit in, but Renzo waved her off, and grabbed the fireworks off the counter. Tucking it under his arm with one hand, he shoved his wallet back in his pocket with the other.

Stepping back out of the store, Renzo headed down the block, enjoying the morning sunlight and relatively warm air. That was the great thing about California in late September, and even in the later Autumn months and well into winter … the weather was still great. Never uncomfortable, or too cold.

He didn’t have to be back at the apartment for another couple of hours when he would need to take off for work. At least today, Todd had given him a rough schedule of what he was going to be doing which let him make these plans for Diego and the fireworks. His uncle’s place was only a couple of blocks away from the store where he’d grabbed the fireworks, so it didn’t take him long at all to walk the twenty or so minutes to Micheal’s house. He could have called a cab, but Renzo was still used to using his feet to get him where he wanted to go.

Besides, he figured if they were going to be staying here … he really needed to learn the area. What better way than on foot? That’s how he learned the streets back in New York. It was how he knew every fucking alley, and where each escape ladder happened to be on any given building within a ten-block radius around his apartment.

It was good to learn.

Walking up the driveway to his uncle’s place, Renzo thought the place seemed quieter than normal. Usually, even if it was the morning and Micheal had just gotten home from work, the man would be doing something. Tinkering with the antique car in his garage that he was trying to restore when he had time. Or playing music with the windows open. Sitting on the porch with a smoke in one hand, and a hot coffee in the other.

But the house was never quiet.

Never this quiet, anyway.

Renzo eyed the closed garage door, and the empty porch. He took note of the fact all the windows on the house were closed, even the music room’s window which was rarely closed when he visited.

In the time that they’d been in San Francisco, he’d made an effort to drop by Micheal’s place every couple of days just to see his uncle and talk for a few minutes. The man hadn’t needed to help them, but he had. Grateful didn’t begin to express the way Renzo felt, so he thought making an effort with Micheal might better express his gratitude than anything else he could say.

Also, he wasn’t that good with words. Renzo did better with actions.

He put the eerie silence out of his mind as he stepped up on the porch. At the front door, he raised his hand to knock on the door, but thought of his uncle’s words when he called the night before. Just come right in—I probably won’t hear you anyway if I’m playing or in the back of the house.

Still, he knocked twice and then pushed open the door when he didn’t hear Micheal’s voice calling out to him. In the entry of the home, Renzo found nothing out of the ordinary. Micheal’s shoes still rested on the entrance’s mat, and the jacket that he always wore for his sets had been hung up on the hook he seemed to prefer.

But the house was quiet.

Deathly so, really.