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“He didn’t know, going in, that they were corrupt. In fact, in the beginning, they really were effecting positive change. That was their oath, their mission. They used their influence and knowledge for political and economic improvements. It was an invaluable undertaking.” I sighed. “That went horrifically wrong.”
“And then some,” Kyle mumbled. He shoved back his chair and stood. Gathering up the dishes, he carried them into the kitchen. I finished my tea and cleaned everything, since Kyle had cooked.
Then I wandered down the wing that housed the enormous office Amano had claimed as his private space, with a bedroom off one side. The door was closed. I wanted to knock, see if Dane was in there with him. I hoped he was still in the house, that he’d stay the night. But I couldn’t even hear the slightest hint of muffled voices inside, and that made me curious as to whether they’d both left.
Feeling restless and a little lost, I went into the living room to occupy my mind with a book. It didn’t work, of course. I curled up on a sofa and absently rubbed my stomach. I thought of Dane’s reaction earlier to learning I was pregnant. I knew he was deeply concerned about the timing, and he had every right to be. But I could also see that it ate at him to not be here with me, especially during one of the most important periods in our marriage.
Worse, Kyle was here during this most important period. That had to kill Dane.
I let out another long bre
ath. Dane really had ended up taking on so much, so quickly. The problems at the Lux, falling in love with me, the threats, our marriage, the explosion, the indictments, and now … a baby.
If we ever got around to the honeymoon we’d once talked about, I wouldn’t be surprised if Dane slept through it.
“Hey, Ari,” Kyle said in a tentative voice, interrupting my thoughts. I had no idea how long I’d been ruminating, but it was dark outside, stormy.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I think you’re going to want to come see this.”
I didn’t like his ominous tone any more than his grim expression.
I slipped from the sofa and followed him into the den with a large flat screen mounted over the fireplace. The news was on. A Phoenix station. But I immediately recognized the backdrop as downtown Flagstaff, where they reported from tonight.
Kyle reached for the remote and turned the sound up. The reporter stood in front of the train depot, on the south side of the tracks, as a light mist fell. The streets were wet. Flashing red and blue lit the surrounding area and there were crowds gathered about.
The newswoman said, “The FBI has confirmed their involvement in a high-speed chase through downtown Flagstaff this evening that lasted only minutes and ended in tragedy.”
My stomach wrenched. “Oh, God.” I gripped Kyle’s forearm to steady myself. “Dane,” I whispered as terror ripped through me.
I could not do this again. I could not live through this once more.
“Wait,” Kyle said. “Just listen.”
The reporter continued. “We’ve learned that a person of interest, wanted for questioning related to the explosion at the luxury hotel, 10,000 Lux, in Sedona, attempted to outrun federal agents when they cornered him in a vacant lot along Steves Boulevard. The suspect fled the scene in a black BMW, weaving his way through light traffic along Route 66 toward downtown.”
The camera panned to the left, where a train sat on the tracks. The lit sign for the famous Hotel Monte Vista rose in the background.
Then the camera zoomed in on a car—the black BMW. The roof had been torn off and the windows were shattered. There was no driver’s side door and the entire front of the vehicle was smashed in. Really, it was all just a mangled, crumpled mess of metal.
“The suspect attempted to cross the tracks to elude the FBI,” she said. “A train struck it and sent the car flying over the fencing and into the parking lot of the Lumberyard Brewing Company. The driver was pronounced dead on the scene.”
“What was left of him,” Kyle muttered. “Holy hell.”
I felt queasy.
The reporter added, “The suspect is believed to be Vale Hilliard of the Caribbean country of Curaçao.”
Kyle let out a strangled sound. “Notice she didn’t say he was identified. There can’t be anything to ID him with but his teeth—and good fucking luck finding those.”
“I need to sit down.”
He helped me into a chair as the wooziness took a strong hold of me.
“How about some water?” he offered.
“Yes, please.”
