“There she goes again,” Ben said, looking up through the ceiling. He zipped his suitcase closed and slipped into his shoes.
“She said she’s got some kind of audition,” Nora said.
“Got it.”
“I can’t believe you’re going already,” Nora said, staring at Ben’s SUV. “You should wait around for the mayor’s ceremony tomorrow.”
“Nah, Chid alone deserves every moment he gets in the spotlight for all that brainiac work. Plus I used up all my vacation time for this lovely outing.”
Nora pulled back from him, studying him with a confused frown. “What?”
Ben shrugged. As if for emphasis, the violin music overhead ceased and the two were left in total silence.
“What?” Nora asked again.
“I don’t work in domestic terror. Or hostage rescue or any of that fun stuff. On what basis can I show up here?”
“Ummm … collegiality?” she ventured.
He shook his head. “Schacht and I exchanged words over it. So. You know. You know Schacht, the stickler. I said I wanted to come, he said he wasn’t running a dating service or some damn thing. So we cut a deal.”
He picked up his suitcase and headed out toward the street.
Nora followed, barefoot. “What kind of deal?”
“I come on my own time and on my own dime. I can volunteer my time to help out. At my own risk, of course.”
Nora stared at him, dumbfounded. “I—you did that for me?”
He stopped walking and turned around to let her catch him. “Nora,” he said, looking away, almost blushing, then looking back at her, his eyes clear. “Come on. It’s you.”
She leaned in and kissed him then, hard, on the lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Ben Calder.”
“Well it’s about time you caught up, Nora Khalil.” He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose.
“Ben … we’re … in public…” she whispered, not fully committed to caring about that.
“Erie will survive. Erie is resilient.”
Nora laughed. “Erie will flourish again!”
“It will indeed. Right after it comes to terms with the evil legacies of its beer tycoons.”
Nora grinned. “I warned them about the perils of alcohol. After all that, Pete told me he wouldn’t rest until he got me to try his fascist beer.”
Ben smiled, tucking the usual loose tendril of hair behind Nora’s ear. “Let me know how that battle goes.”
“I’m not worried.” She tilted her head, regarding him. “You’ll be back at Labor Day?”
“Yes,” he said, unlocking the SUV and getting in. “I promise.”
He kissed her again and started the engine. She watched the car until it turned right onto State Street and headed for the Bayfront Parkway.
She sighed. With Ben’s departure she felt like the last vestiges of adrenaline had left her body. She walked back to the house, her bare feet padding on the concrete walkway. She realized she had never had a walkway that needed to be swept before. Maybe she would look for a broom and sweep.
Or maybe she would sit in her sweatpants and tank top and watch Netflix.
Yes.
She turned to lock the door when it was shoved open with unbelievable force, sending her flying.
Nora’s head slammed against the mirrored coat closet in the foyer. The mirror shattered as Nora sank to the ground, stunned. Her eyes wouldn’t focus, no matter how hard she tried. She reached out to get her bearings but was picked up bodily and tossed face forward onto her living room floor.
She pulled herself onto all fours just in time to have her arm yanked up behind her. She cried out as she heard it snap.
“Did you really think that you could put a stop to a movement?” Goatee was demanding. He bent over her and picked her up, crushing the broken arm against her body and making her cry out again. Blood was dripping down the back of her neck.
“Those men are two of liberty’s finest patriots!”
Nora couldn’t speak. The pain in her arm was so intense that she felt faint, and her head injury had made her so dizzy. White light crowded in on her vision.
“I told him. I said no code-solving was gonna make you people deserve mercy.”
She looked into his icy eyes, trying to convey her own request for mercy when suddenly a rustling sound behind Goatee gave way to a shriek as someone pounced on him from behind.
At first his massive head blocked Nora’s view, but then she saw who was clinging to him. It was Rachel. Rachel. Rachel had a wire and she had wrapped it hard around Goatee’s neck and she was holding on for dear life. Goatee was clawing at his neck, gasping. Rivulets of blood were erupting out of his neck as the wire dug deeper and deeper into his flesh.
Rachel met her eyes. As Nora sank to the floor, her eyes fighting to stay focused, she saw that tears were streaking down Rachel’s face, but still she was holding on to the wire with a ferocious expression.
That look was the last thing Nora saw before losing consciousness.
* * *
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she heard someone say. This was followed by a loud laugh.
She realized it was Peter. She tried to remember what she’d said that was so funny, but couldn’t think of anything.
Suddenly, though, she heard another voice laughing as well. She tried hard to place it and couldn’t.
She decided to open her eyes in order to see who could possibly be laughing so much. And why were they in her house?
She opened her eyes and peered around. “Oh, my God. Hamot Hospital again?”
Both Pete and Rachel immediately appeared in her line of vision.
And then everything came back to her. “Rachel! Rachel!” Nora rasped. “Pete, Rachel killed a guy in my house.”
“Yeah,” said Pete. “That guy broke your arm and had the hospital staff pulling glass out of your scalp for about an hour.”
Nora winced. “Hence the pain I’m in right now.”
He nodded. “Hence the pain you’re in right now. And the concussion, so you have to take it easy for awhile. Also I think you destroyed the living room rug by bleeding on it. Don’t count on getting the deposit back.”
Nora smiled lopsidedly.
“I take it,” Pete said, “that this guy was the guy who killed Will Martin?”
Nora was nodding, trying not to talk too much.
“Loose ends tied up, then.”
“Loose ends tied up.” Nora looked over at Rachel. Her normally pallid cheeks were flushed. “Rachel, are you hurt? You’re okay?”
She grinned down at Nora, then held up bandaged hands. “Hands a little sliced up but I’m just fine. You think I’m not as tough as you, Nora Khalil? That you can waltz in and kill my bad guys and I can’t do the same for you?”
Nora shook her head, very slowly, aware that the back of her head had been wrapped in something. “No way. I’d never underestimate you, girl. But … well, maybe you need a handgun or something? What did you have there?”
Rachel was laughing. “I was just about to replace the string I’d broken when I heard the commotion. And no, I will never own a handgun, although I’d agree our neighborhood is maybe a little too rough.”
Nora blinked at her. “A violin string. You killed a crazed white supremacist militia guy with a violin string?”
She shrugged. “As the great Woody Guthrie said…” she began.
Pete joined in, “… This machine kills fascists!”
The two began laughing again, and Nora found she loved the sound of their combined laughter.
“Of course I’m probably going to need several years of therapy to recover…” Rachel added soberly.
Pete did not miss a beat before saying, “You know, I’ve had a few near-death experiences myself lately. Perhaps we could counsel each other, Miss Rachel.”
“What did I say?” Nora said to Pete. “Didn’t I say you’d like Rachel?”
Rachel looked from Nora to Pete, blushing furiously. “You said that about me?”
“I did,” confirmed Nora.
“Well,” said Rachel, averting her gaze from Peter and giving Nora a smile. “I suppose you should give me some background on Pete then … while he calls to tell your boyfriend you’re conscious.”
Nora nodded, smiling, fingertips gently brushing her friend’s bandaged hand. “All you need to know is that he’s a huge fan of the opera.…”