“You were right about Lexi Stoltz being in trouble,” Kira said to Joey. They’d returned to Toni and Nick’s gorgeous Victorian, which had become their base of operations, mainly because it had room for all of them and was closest to where all the action seemed to be happening. “We found blood and bullet casings in the snow outside, more blood in the house—”
“She’s okay, though,” Joey said, even though she hadn’t been there herself. She sent a reassuring look Cait’s way and said. “She got out. She had to climb out on a rope or something.”
“Rope ladder,” Toni confirmed with a knowing nod. “It was still hanging from the bedroom window.”
Kira gaped from Joey to Toni and back again.
“What?” Joey asked “I told you—”
“Yeah, you told me, but I didn’t believe it.” She frowned at the half sister with the wavy hair in every shade of blond from ash to caramel. “You really do have it, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I really do. Sometimes I wish I didn’t. But right now it’s good. Right now it’s telling me our sister Lexia is okay. Scared. On the run, but okay.” She frowned and added, “And it’s Lexi. She hates being called Lexia.”
“I’ll make a note.”
“What are we going to do now, though?” Cait asked. “She’s running scared and bad guys are chasing her, and she probably doesn’t even know we’re out here, waiting to help. She might not even know we exist. How can we find her?”
Kira sighed, lowering her head. “My husband friend in the FBI says the guy we think is after her was seen at a motel off 81, near where that crazy accident happened in the wee hours this morning.”
“The one where some maniac was throwing homemade bombs at other other cars?” Cait asked, a catch in her voice.
“Molotov,” Joey muttered.
Kira nodded. “Right. Not bombs, really. Nothing that was going to do anyone any harm. Most of law enforcement is calling it a prank. One little Molotov cocktail, lots of flash, not much else. And they’re still not sure it’s connected to the report of gunshots in the parking lot of a nearby motel.”
“It was a diversion. So they could get away.” Joey said it as if it was a proven fact.
Kira was about finished doubting her sister’s abilities. She said, “You think Lexi threw that cocktail, Joey?”
“Not her. The sexy-as-sin guy who’s with her.”
Caitlin and Toni exchanged a raised-eyebrow look. Kira fired off a text to Michael. “This is good, if you’re right,” she said while tapping her phone.
“Why?” Joey asked.
Kira held up a hand as Michael’s reply popped onto her phone’s screen, then read it aloud, but slowly, so she could stop if she came to anything classified. “They pulled a print off a piece of the bottle bomb. It belonged to a former FBI explosives expert name of Connor Romano. Nickname…” She looked at Joey. “Molotov.”
“Former FBI?” Toni asked. “Why’d he leave?”
Kira texted, then waited, then swore under her breath. “His wife and two kids were murdered, possibly by the same guy who’s after Lexi. It was a bomb. And there are some in the Bureau who think Romano was involved.”
“Our sister’s with a man capable of blowing up his own family?” Caitlin asked a little breathlessly. “God, why are these animals after her, and how are we going to find her?”
*****
The clouds overhead were ominous as Lexi and Romano got out of the RV in the parking lot of a diner just off the highway. Romano was watchful, suspicious of every stranger who so much as glanced in their direction. Lexi looked around in a much different way as they headed for the diner, then she paused and pointed. “Look, there's a Walmart across the street. Maybe we ought to pick up some things before we leave."
"Good idea."
In the diner, Romano was uneasy. Too many eyes on them, eyes that could describe them later, should White stop by asking questions. But he figured the chances of the bastard checking every diner in every town were slim. And since he'd expect them to continue south, they were even slimmer. No one in the place seemed to be paying undue attention to them. He breathed a little easier and headed up to the counter. Lexi was already there, ordering a club sandwich and a soda to go in that deep, smoky voice that made a person really listen when she spoke. He stepped up beside her.
"You two together?"
He blinked at the waitress's question. Lexi said, “Yeah,” and she looked up at him.
He had trouble pulling free of her eyes, but managed to do it, and gave the waitress a curt nod. “Just double her order.”
She was still looking at him. He felt the touch of her eyes as the waitress punched keys on an old-fashioned cash register that chucked and pinged. He took the wallet from his pocket, handed over a twenty and waited for the change. Why did she find it necessary to look at him like that? It always felt like she was probing his damn soul.
There was a country song wafting from a radio behind the counter. Another waitress was busy tacking strands of green garland to the edges of the counter, reminding him of the holiday season. Someone had sprayed the place with a pine-scented air freshener.
A memory slipped into his mind. He heard Justin’s laughter and Jack’s high pitched squeals of delight, and the crinkling and tearing of gift wrap. The flashback was brief, but vivid. And it took him by surprise, because he'd denied himself any real memories for a year and a half. He’d never been able to think back to happy times, only to that night, and the explosion that ended them forever.
The bell over the entrance jangled, and he glanced behind him, watching his back as he always did. And then he felt a hot blade slip right into his chest and twist slowly, tearing his insides to shreds.
The little boy was no more than five. All dark curls, baby blue eyes and dimples as he grinned up at his father, his tiny hand enfolded in a much bigger one. They moved inside, talking and laughing, finding a table.
Romano felt the blackness in his soul reaching up to claim him. It drew him into the depths of his endless grief. He closed his eyes to blot out the image of the happy pair.
They should’ve been outside playing. Dammit, why the hell hadn't the boys been outside? They never came in when Wendy called them for dinner. Never. Always begged for more time. The fenced-in back yard was their favorite place in the known universe. The fort he’d built them in that young hard maple tree. The jungle gym. The swings.
He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and swung his head around. Lexi's eyes were wider and browner than ever, and they were damp as they met his. He hated that his pain was so clear to her. It was coming to the surface far more than it had in months and he didn’t know why.
Something about her. Something about Lexi.
He gave his head a slight shake. “I’m gonna hit that store across the street for a few supplies if you’re okay here.” His voice sounded like he’d gargled with gravel.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He nodded, turned, and walked out of the diner. The door swung closed on the little boy's laughter, and Romano blinked in the crisp December air, wishing it was colder, wishing it could slap his face and snap him out of this grief. But it wasn't and it didn't. Nothing ever had. Maybe nothing ever would.
*****
Lexi stared after him. Part of her wanted to go to him, try to help him through the haze of pain he was obviously battling. But another part knew he wanted to be left alone.
"Miss?"
She turned back to the counter to see the woman on the other side holding out a handful of change, and took it. "Is there a restroom I can use while I'm waiting for the sandwiches?"
The woman nodded, pointing toward the back of the building. Lexi tried to put Romano's heartache out of her mind as she walked into the ladies' room. She took her time, washed her face, combed her hair, dug through her purse and applied a little bit of makeup she found in there. Eventually, she stopped and just stared at her reflection in the mirror, telling herself she was not Romano’s only hope of salvation. She wasn’t. He didn’t want her to be, and more importantly, she didn’t want to be.
It was stupid to look at herself in the mirror and tell herself lies. She did want to help him. And she was pretty sure she could, if he would only let her.
Hell.
Some twenty minutes later, after a lot more soul searching and no clear answers, she pushed the door open to head back out, and froze. A man dressed all in black was leaning on the counter. It was that color of his clothing that set her on edge. Everything black, right to the knit cap on his head. He was dressed exactly as thugs at her house had been, just without the mask and guns.
She started to think she had an overactive imagination. And then she saw the waitress looking at the guy’s cell phone, nodding as her lips formed the word "restroom" and her head tilted toward where Lexi stood.
As if in slow motion, the man's head started to turn toward her. She ducked back inside before he could see her, closed the door and turned its lock.
Her heart did a little jumpity-jump in her chest. “Not now," she whispered. "Not now, my pills are in the RV." She leaned over the sink, wet a paper towel with cold water and slapped it onto the back of her neck. What should she do?
She scanned the restroom. There was one squat window on the back wall, too high to reach from the floor, with a tall garbage can in front of it. It only took a second to remove the rounded top and flip the can upside down. She silently apologized for the mess as she climbed up. The window opened easily, and she thanked her lucky stars. She climbed over the edge, turned and lowered herself until she dangled a few feet above the ground, then let go and landed with an ungraceful tumble. She looked around, hoping she hadn't been seen as she got to her feet and brushed the dust from her jeans. There was no one around, so she hurried back to where the RV was parked out front, and kept the oversized vehicle between her and the diner.
Romano was already inside. He stood in the tiny kitchen area, unloading a bag of groceries into the cupboards.
She took a couple of steadying breaths, went right to the front, sat down in the driver's seat and started the motor. Then she put the thing into gear and pulled slowly out of the parking lot.
A second later, Romano was standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder to steady himself. "What's going on?"
"One of them…. back there, in the diner." She bit her lip. Her words were coming out in bits and pieces, and her heart was starting to beat too fast again.
"Easy," he said, and his hand squeezed her shoulder. She closed her eyes because it felt so good to have that strong grip there. "Drive nice and slow. Take your time. No one's gonna look twice at a camper, unless it's careening through town, taking curves on two wheels."
She eased up on the accelerator, nodding, willing her heart to slow down and not launch into a full-blown episode. Safe now, she kept telling herself. She was safe now.
"You need this?" Romano held her prescription bottle in one hand. She hadn't even seen him reach for it.
"I don't think so."
He returned it to the glove compartment. "Tell me what happened."
"I went to the restroom. When I started to come out, there was a man at the counter, dressed all in black. He was showing his phone to the waitress, and the waitress pointed toward the restroom. I was the only one in there."
"And?"
"I ducked back inside before he saw me, locked the door and climbed out the window." She looked up at him to gauge his reaction to that, and was surprised to see him smile a little. “What?”
“The idiot's probably still sitting there, waiting for you to come out."
"Do you think it was—"
“I have little doubt it was one of White's henchmen. Just as we pulled out, I spotted a black van parked nearby. How the hell they found us, I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they’re just looking, checking motels and diners up and down 81.”
"I was sure I’d overreacted.”
"You didn't overreact. You did exactly what I would’ve done. Never hesitate to follow your instincts."
"I didn't get our sandwiches."
"We'll get some more sandwiches. Actually, I grabbed everything we need to make sandwiches. Some clothes, too.”
She bit her lower lip, turned to look at him again. "I'm really scared."
"I shouldn't have left you alone in there."
“It’s all right," she said quickly.
"It's not all right." He took a breath, let it out slowly and finally moved up to sit opposite her in the passenger seat. "It's been eighteen months," he said softly.
Lexi almost gasped in surprise. Was he actually going to talk to her about this?
“I worked for the FBI, and I thwarted one of White’s bigger projects. He’d been contracted to blow up a government building in Albany. I pulled his trigger early, blew up his mercenaries instead. In return, he blew up my house. My family.”
“I’m sorry, Romano. I’m so so sorry.”
“I ought to be handling things better by now."
“It… can't be easy. And eighteen months, that’s barely any time at all.”
He was staring straight ahead, deep in thought. Lexi had to make an effort to keep her eyes on the road. “After it happened, I resigned. I couldn't focus on the job anymore. And there are some people who suspect I might’ve been involved somehow.”
“How could anyone think that? It’s insane. I barely know you, and I wouldn’t believe that for a minute.”
He looked at her for an extended beat, taking that in, it seemed.
“But you came back out of retirement," she prompted when he couldn’t seem to find his voice again.
“Not exactly. I have friends still on the job. My former boss, Darren, is one of the closest. He let me know White was after your father’s formula. Asked me to freelance the case. No one’s gone up against White more times than I have. I agreed. I thought I could handle it. But I'm not doing too great so far, am I?" He gave a sad smile. “It’s bringing everything back.”
“It’s forcing you to grieve. I don’t imagine you have yet. I think you probably pushed your grief down, just so you could… keep going.”
“It was working fine, up ‘til now.”
“You only think it was working fine. It wasn’t. You’ve been dead inside. Dead people can’t feel. But you’re coming back to life, and that means you have to feel again. That’s what the living do, Romano. We feel. We laugh and we cry, we celebrate and we grieve, we fight and we love. We feel.”
He lowered his eyes, then said, “Turn left at this light. We need to get back on the highway up ahead."
She did as he said, waiting for him to continue, but her own mind was filling with new thoughts, new fears. One, in particular, that wrapped an icy hand around her heart and chilled it through and through. "Romano?"
"Yeah?"
"You said you only agreed to take this case when you realized White was involved. Will you tell me why?"
He laughed, but it wasn't really a laugh. More like a short burst of air being forced from his lungs. "He murdered my family. Why do you think?”
She had a feeling she knew the answer, but she had to hear it. Romano didn't oblige, though. He didn't give her any answer at all. Not with his voice, at least. But in his eyes… in his eyes, there was something even blacker than the pain that filled his heart.