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Sean woke early. He could only imagine the log of emails he had waiting, and downed a bowl of cereal and two cups of coffee before carrying his third cup to the office with a saucer of buttered toast on the side.
He closed the door to make sure the clicking of hiskeyboard didn’t disturb his mother’s sleep in the room across the hall and set to work with one eye on the clock. As soon as it was a decent hour for phone calls, Amalie Lincoln was at the top of his list.
It was nearing 8:00 a.m. when Shirley meandered into her kitchen. She saw the dirty bowl in the sink. There was still coffee in the carafe. Good enough to start her morning on. She poured a cup and then took it to the window overlooking the land behind their house and realized it was spitting snowing, which was her mother’s description of minimal snowfall on bitterly cold day.
But her house was warm. Sean had already upped the thermostat and built a fire in the fireplace. She thought about making breakfast, but didn’t have enough appetite to bother, so she settled for buttered toast with jelly and coffee, then sat down to text Aaron and Wiley, and noticed B.J. had texted her last night.
She sighed. “Darn it, son. I missed it,” she said and quickly texted him back, then hit Send. He was already at work. She didn’t expect him to answer. But at least he’d know she saw it.
What she did need was to know how the rest of her family was. She sent a text to Wiley, making sure he’d suffered no lingering effects of the smoke, and then did the same to Aaron, asking about him and Dani.
Moments later, Aaron called her.
“Mom, I saw your text. We’re okay. Dani is a little beat up, but physically okay. But what happened shook her to the core. They came so close to dying. I had nightmares all night, and I can’t imagine what hers were like, but she was restless.”
“I’m glad you called. Is there anything I can do? I’m assuming the school is closed indefinitely and nobody will be at work for a while.”
“Right. The NTSB is on scene at the crash site, and until they bag up evidence and haul off the remains of the chopper, the school administration can’t address the repairs that need to be done.”
“Are you going to work today?” Shirley asked.
“Yes.”
“Would it be okay if I visit Dani today? I’m not asking her first, because she’d just say yes to be polite, even if she wasn’t up to it. You be the judge for me.”
“Yes, it would be great, probably even helpful. Dani loves you dearly, and you know that.”
“Okay then. Let her know I’ll be there around noon and bring lunch for the both of us. I could do with a girl chat myself.”
“Awesome, Mom, and thanks. I may or may not be able to stop by and check in on her at noon, so I’ll be happy to know you’re there. Drive safe coming down. The roads aren’t slick, but if the snow gets heavy, don’t chance it.”
“Oh, I won’t. I promise. I’ll just call and talk to her instead. Be careful today. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Is Sean all right?”
“Oh yes, you know your brother. He keeps things to himself, but he was up before me. Being out of the office all day yesterday probably put him a bit behind.”
“Right. Okay then. I gotta go.”
Shirley heard the call disconnect, then put down her phone and bit into a piece of cold toast and jelly, while trying to decide what goodies she would bake to take down the mountain. She was going to take something for Wiley, too, and leave it at their house. She thought of B.J. and smiled. He hadn’t just inherited her people’s looks through DNA. She was really proud of his chosen career. Being a chef! He loved to cook as much as she did. At least he hadn’t gone into law enforcement. Having two sons on the force was worry enough.
It was past noon of the next day before Roadie arrived in Miami. He hadn’t cried since he was twelve, but he cried off and on most of the way.
It began with just a simple text from a person he already knew, asking if he wanted to make a cool ten thousand dollars to make a phone call, to which he had immediately agreed. Then it began to sound fishy when he found out he had to go to some hick tourist attraction in Kentucky and stay at a cabin on a campground for a few days before making the call. But ten thousand dollars just to make a phone call? It was completely worth it untilthe fucking phone call blew up a chopper and it crashed into a school. He’d never thought of himself as “one of the good guys,” but he damn well wasn’t a baby killer. Yet he’d taken the money and done the deed and now he had to live with it.
But through all of the hours driving back to Miami, he finally convinced himself he was also a victim. It wasn’t the first time he’d been conned, and it was something he was going to have to live with. He wasn’t about to accept the guilt. He just needed to disappear. As soon as he reached his apartment, he left his phone and bag in the car and headed inside on the run.
His apartment was a fully furnished dump. The only things he had to pack were the rest of his clothes, his TV and coffee maker, and he’d be gone.
He didn’t think there was any way to tie him to the phone call that had detonated the bomb, but he wasn’t certain enough to chance it. He’d get his things, buy a burner phone on the way out of the city, and toss his phone in the first river he came to.
This wasn’t his first rodeo. Roadie knew how to disappear and was about to make that move. He took the elevator to the third floor, then headed down the hall and hurried inside his apartment without bothering to lock the door behind him. He was trying to remember where he’d stashed his other suitcase, when someone grabbed him from behind and gave his head a quick twist.
He was dead before he hit the floor.
Vincent Romo was a hit man. He’d been waiting in Townley’s apartment since noon yesterday, eating his food, shitting in his toilet, and watching his TV. He woke up this morning, still on the job, but with a headache and what felt like fever, and had been sneezing and coughing ever since. He spent the morning wiping up every surface he’d touched. Even threw the bedsheets in the laundry and set them to wash, removing his DNA from the scene, and then gloved up and set to waiting for Townley’s arrival.
Vince was a killer who used his brawn far more often than he used his brain. Silent killings were his thing. And now that his target was dead, he had one thing left to do to get the last half of his pay. Retrieve Townley’s cell phone, then toss the place to make it look like a burglary.
