Lucky Break (38 page)

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Authors: Deborah Coonts

BOOK: Lucky Break
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“Then we can assume someone put it there on purpose,” the investigator stated, causing Romeo to roll his eyes.

I jumped before Romeo could trot out the surly lurking behind his benign expression.
 
“We have a pretty good idea who put it there and who it belongs to.”
 
I turned to Romeo.
 
“I’ll leave you two to trade secrets.
 
I’m assuming you’re done with me?” I asked the investigator.
 

He nodded.
 
In any other circumstance, I’d work to see if I could get just one grin out of him but I didn’t have it in me today.

“Where are you going?” Romeo asked.

“I have a date.”

“Don’t you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll take my car.”
 
I motioned with one arm, taking in the devastation.
 
“This is why I leave the keys in it.”
 
Well, that and the fact they were always hiding from me, but I didn’t feel like admitting that.

The garage was dark, the motion-sensitive lights failing to pop on.
 
Either maintenance needed a swift kick or I was having a Bruce Willis
Sixth Sense
moment.
 
Today, that thought had some appeal.
 
What I would do if I could influence life and no one could see me!
 
Of course, the whole being dead part wasn’t that attractive.
 
The shadows taunted me, tickling my fear, sending a chill racing down my spine. Something scratched in the dark.
 
I jumped.
 
No one is here.
 
The garage is locked, gated, and guarded.

My ride, a sweet classic 911, waited for me where I always left it: in Teddie’s parking spot.
 
His was closer, and he didn’t have a car.
 
I wouldn’t have one either except this car had been with me for almost as long as I could remember.
 
And she was getting as creaky and as temperamental as her owner.
 
Couldn’t really blame her; it’d been a bumpy ride.

I knew I was alone.
 
Still, the frayed ends of my nerves crackled.
 
I hurried, my mind playing tricks.

Another rustle.

I hurried for the car, opened the door, dove in, then slammed and locked it behind me.
 
Taking a few moments to catch my breath, I chastised myself.
 
Way too pansy-ass, O’Toole.
 
He’s got you jumping at shadows.
 
I pulled air deep into my lungs, then reached for the ignition with my left hand.

No keys.

I knew I’d left them here.

Something glinted, catching a weak light from the next row over.
 
Hanging on a string from the turn indicator.

A gold button.
 
Embossed crest.

It hit me like a sucker punch.
 
My head snapped up, my eyes scanning as I yanked the door handle.

A man; a face swam into view, half-hidden in the shadows.

Irv Gittings.

He smiled.

I ripped open the door and ran, then dove behind the nearest pillar.

The air around me erupted in flames.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T
HE deafening echoes of the blast reverberated, lessening with the distance. Sitting, with my knees tucked to my chest, my arms around them, my head tucked between my elbows, afraid to move, I smelled singed clothing and hair.
 
My ears rang, my head pounded, I must be alive.
 
But I was afraid to move.

Silence settled.
 
I sensed it more than heard it, my ears screaming in protest to the assault.

Scuffling.

Irv Gittings.
 
That thought propelled me to my feet.
 
I’d seen his face. I know I had. His mocking smile.
 
I cast around wildly, swiping my hair out of my face.
 
Footfalls reverberating.
 
Running.
 
One set.
 
Which way?

The cement walls created a great echo chamber.
 
I whirled one way, then the other.
 
No one.

I thought I heard a laugh, evil and taunting.

Then the single footfalls were drowned out by many.
 
People running.
 
Growing louder, I thought.
 
Hard to tell with the ringing.

Romeo rounded the corner coming down the ramp from the outside.
 
Forrest and the investigator with the unremarkable name and flat affect followed behind.

“Shit.
 
Lucky are you okay?”
 
He skidded to a stop in front of me, grabbing my shoulders.

Emotion welled from a deep primal place.
 
Relief.
 
Anger. Energy burned through me.
 
“Did you see him? Which way did he go?”

“Who?”
 
Romeo stared hard into my eyes.

“Irv Gittings.
 
He was here.
 
I saw him.”

“Where?”

“There.” I motioned to the aisle that I would’ve seen as I sat in the car.
 
“You didn’t see him?
 
He had to go out the ramp.
 
The door inside is locked.”
 
And then I thought of my keys.
 
The car keys.
 
There was a building key on the ring.
 
And they’d been gone when I’d reached for them.
 
“He had a key.”

“How’d he know we’d come down the ramp?” the investigator asked.

“He didn’t,” Romeo answered for me.
 
“He waited, then used the entrance we didn’t.”

“Fuck!” I shouted it because if I didn’t, I’d explode.
 
“I’ll kill that man.”
 
That I said much more quietly.

Romeo shook his head.
 
“We’ve got to catch him first.”
 
He gave me a half-hearted smile as he relaxed just a bit.
 
He probed my arms, touched my face, then shook his head.
 
“All parts accounted for.” He tried for a smile.

Forrest punched his phone.
 
I heard him calling in the auto-cide. The investigator went over to the car, or what was left of it.
 
“Hell of a thing to do to a Porsche.”

“How could you tell what make it was?”

He pointed to an emblem, the Porsche shield, resting neatly on top of the pile, as if someone had put it there.
 
They hadn’t.
 
I’d been here the whole time.
 
And Irv Gittings couldn’t drift into smoke anymore than I could, although his skill thus far bordered on otherworldly.

Romeo folded me in a one-arm hug as we watched the investigator probe the smoldering pile of twisted metal and scattered parts.

“Scared the hell out of me,” Romeo said.
 
“When that thing went, it shook the whole building.”

I stuck my fingers in my ears to try to stop the ringing.
 
It didn’t help.

“You’re really testing the whole cat theory,” Romeo continued.

Even though my brains were scrambled, I thought I followed.
 
“Just don’t tell me what life I’m on, okay?”
 
His smile confirmed I had.

The investigator stood, putting away the pen he’d been probing with.
 
“Still hot,” he said as he wandered over.
 
They guy had a knack for the obvious.
 

“Their backup plan.”
 
I could play the obvious game as well, but I had an excuse.
 
“My poor car.”

“Your poor car?” Forrest sounded incredulous as he joined the conversation; he’d rescued me more times than I could count after having lost an argument with the temperamental hunk-o-junk.
 
“Fire department is on its way.”

“That car did have an Italian personality cloaked in German equanimity, but we’ve been together a long time.”
 
I fought the urge to grab the steering wheel from the smoldering pile.
 
Hardwired to hold on when letting go was the right choice.
 
Would I never learn?
 
Now the Fates, with a little help from Irv Gittings, had taken all I owned.
 
A sign, of sorts, perhaps.
 
“After this, I have a feeling the Homeowners Association is going to vote me off the island.”

Nobody disagreed as we stared at what remained of a very sweet little ride.
 
Funny how we remember the good things.
 
That car had stranded me all over town, but I remembered her fondly.
 
If anyone else had done that to me there would’ve been serious bodily harm involved.

Sirens sounded, closing in.
 
Romeo shepherded us up the ramp and outside.
 
“Let’s give them room to do their work.”

We sat on the grass, close to where we’d sat last night as we’d watched the fire consume my life’s possessions and, thankfully, not my life.
 
Today was anticlimactic in a way, although I’d come much closer to meeting my Maker.
 

“How do you feel?”
 
Romeo asked.
 
He’d wandered off, and I hadn’t noticed until he loomed over me with a cup of water in his hand.
 
“Here.
 
Wish it was 101.”

“Not me.”
 
I closed one eye and looked up at him, trying to hide the glare of the floodlight behind him.
 
“Not yet.
 
I’ve got a score to settle.”

Romeo dropped down beside me, his legs out straight, his back against a pole.
 
“You have an uncanny knack for surviving the unsurvivable.
 
Last night it was a trip down memory lane that saved you.
 
What was it today?”

“Arrogance.”

“Yours?”
 
He sounded disbelieving, which made me feel good.

“No.
 
Ol’ Irv’s.
 
I’m speculating here, but I’d be willing to bet they put the bomb in the car when they planted the other one.”

“In case they missed you the first time,” Romeo nodded, warming to my story.

“This isn’t hypothetical.
 
I almost died.”

He shrugged.
 
“You didn’t.
 
Go on.”

I knew he was trying to keep me from getting too close to the emotional ledge, but he was seriously pissing me off.
 
I tried to ignore his act.
 
“But they were pretty sure the first bomb would do the job.
 
And they really didn’t have enough time to wire the car bomb into the ignition.
 
The risk of someone driving into the garage grew the longer they stayed, and that would’ve taken more time.”

“So it was remote detonation.”
 
Romeo nodded.

“I wish you’d stop doing that.
 
Just let me finish.” He met my glare with a smile, but did as I asked.
 
“That’s why Irv had to be here, had to be watching.
 
He’d know he didn’t get me last night; it was all over the news.
 
And he’d know I couldn’t keep my nose out of the investigation.” I beat Romeo to that punch line.
 

“So, he waited.”
 
Romeo apparently bought into my theory. “Where was the arrogance?”

I looked off in the distance, but I was seeing Ol’ Irv’s face, his grin.
 
How the hell had I ever slept with him?
 
Love blinders on.
 
Young and stupid—wouldn’t go back there on a bet.
 
“He had to let me know it was him.
 
I had to see him, to realize what was about to happen.
 
And, in that fraction of time, I moved fast enough, thought well enough, that I survived.” I put my finger in my right ear and wiggled it.
 
“Although this ear is pretty much shot.
 
The ringing is loud enough to call the townspeople to Sunday services.”

“In Vegas that’d have to be loud enough to wake the dead, or the seriously hung-over.
 
Like one of those air-raid sirens.”

“Pretty much.”

“Well,” I eased myself to my feet, still testing all the parts.
 
They seemed to be sound, if a bit wobbly.
 
“About that date.” I extended my hand and pulled Romeo to his feet.
 
“I’m going to need a ride.”

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