Chapter 29

Almost a week had passed since the death of Congressman Hector Diaz. Stefanos’ team had uncovered no link to Victor’s killer, and as leads diminished, they seemed destined for failure.

Conley opened the refrigerator door and soft white light spilled into the dark kitchen. He stared inside, bored and hungry. Red, yellow, and white McDonalds bags stood sentry around Lloyd’s pitcher of sweet tea. Two weeks in the Nahant safe house had turned his life upside down, made him sleepy all day, restless at night, and melancholy 24/7. Faces were the problem. Haunting images. In the bedroom of the old house, a gallery of people paid visit—Lisa and her new lover, the lifeless bodies of those who had wanted Channary, Diaz and his wife, the butchered corpse of Victor Rodriguez. Even the handless body of Tommy Lopez. What the hell was happening to Ocean Park?

The refrigerator light suddenly blinked off. Moonlight painted the kitchen with a yellow glow. The oil burner in the basement clicked and went silent.

He cat-footed to the living room. Lights were off, the VCR display black. Outside, streetlight illuminated a patrol car. A porch lantern shone from the house next door.

“Power failure,” Kendricks called from above. The stairs creaked as he descended.

“Just ours,” Conley said. “Neighbors have power.” He felt for the cell phone on his belt and fingered an empty holder.

“Hey, Conley?” Kendricks asked in a soft voice.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have my weapon, do you?”

Conley reached for his own automatic and touched the handle.

“No,” he whispered. “Stay with Channary.”

The lights snapped on.

Channary padded from the bedroom and stood in front of Kendricks. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

Small sounds came from the kitchen—a slight scrape across a wooden surface, pouring liquid, the chatter of a chair leg. Conley drew his gun and walked toward them.

William O’Neil and Sage sat at the table, behind Lloyd’s tea pitcher and two glasses. Sage sat straight, arms folded tight, her hair in cornrows now. Her bright eyes held Conley’s. O’Neil had one elbow on the table, hand squeezing a blue rubber ball.

Hardware lay on the table in front of them—Conley’s cell phone, Lloyd’s gun, a Nahant policeman’s badge. Sage sipped from her glass.

“How’d you get by security?” Conley asked.

“Matt, my friend,” O’Neil said, neck muscles flexing in time with the squeezing hand. “You have no security.” The hand stopped, as if the ball had been subdued.

“But you will now.”

****

O’Neil surveyed the house. An hour later, he paced the living room and pushed the window blinds aside. Light played on the police cruiser.

“You need more police,” he said to Conley. “Stagger patrol cars along the street like a W, two cops in each. They’ll be hard targets.”

“How’d you get in?”

O’Neil kept talking. “Station a cop in the woods nearby.”

“Why’d you bring Sage?”

O’Neil pointed at the basement entrance.

“You need alarm contacts on the cellar windows. Place motion detectors in all the major pathways in the house, on every floor, battery powered. Redundant alarms with dedicated power.”

Conley followed him into the backyard. A moon in a cloudless sky lit the tiny patch of grass. The ocean was almost half a mile away, but the thick smell of sea salt saturated the air. They hung on the fence and peered at the cliff below.

“Matt, the Latin Kings will come for the girl. They need to know who killed Victor Rodriguez. Or the Asian Boyz, to silence her. This wall is your protection, but a cop should still patrol the backyard every half hour or so. Vary the interval. Make it unpredictable.”

“All right.”

“Prepare for the unknown. Surprise is their best weapon. They’ll come at you in an unlikely way.”

The surf pounded. A sudden breeze rustled the vines on the fence.

“Matt, they’re coming. If you didn’t know that already, know it now. I’m leaving Sage with you. Tell your captain she’s a doctor. She’ll take care of Channary and tend to your friend’s gunshot wound. Tell Kendricks to trust her instincts.”

“Why? What’s going on? Where will you be?”

O’Neil’s eyes were bright with moonlight when he spoke.

“Not here. It’s my turn to help Ocean Park.”