Winter Break (18 page)

‘Nobody would let me get my phone, remember?’ Vivian shifted her weight from leg to leg, exhibiting her pain.

‘I have a phone.’ Leslie took it out and dialed.

Lou watched her, looked at the sky, chewed his lip. ‘I seriously think we don’t need to call any cops.’

‘What?’

‘Are you crazy?’

‘Are you serious?’

All three women responded at once.

‘Lou, my knees are killing.’

‘Maybe those boys would let us wait in their fraternity—’

‘No.’ Harper wouldn’t consider it. ‘I saw them leave earlier. They aren’t there.’

Vivian frowned, climbed onto the porch, sat on the bench swing with Lou beside her. Harper sat on the front steps while Leslie called to report a broken window and a bomb. When she hung up, she said, ‘Oh my God, Harper. I have an appointment now. I have to go . . .’

‘Can’t you call and cancel?’

‘No. Not for this guy. He needs to see me. But I’ll come back. Right afterwards.’ She started for her car. Holding her backside and limping.

‘Are you hurt?’

Leslie grinned. ‘Good thing I have so much padding. I bet I’ll have some nice big bruises, but I’ll be okay.’ Suddenly, she stopped and rushed back to Harper, losing her grin. ‘Oh my, Harper. We’re so concerned about your mother’s knees and my bottom. What about you? Are you all right? The baby?’

Harper hadn’t had a chance to assess herself yet. But she nodded. ‘We’re fine. Both of us.’

‘Lord. Someone threw a bomb through your window.’ She stepped close, whispered in Harper’s ear. ‘After what you told me, Harper, I’d keep an eye on Lou. In fact, maybe you should come with me?’

‘No, I’d better wait for the cops.’

Promising to be back as soon as she could, Leslie gave Harper a hug, hurried to her little BMW convertible, eased herself in and drove off.

Harper looked up the street, wondering what was taking the police so long. Then she turned toward the fraternity, saw the footprints leading out and back through the snow. The empty front porch. And suddenly, Harper was very cold.

Even with the parka on, Harper couldn’t stop shivering. She closed her eyes, picturing what had almost happened. Her house in flames. Her flesh burned away. She’d seen what it looked like when bombs went off. Could hear men screaming, even now.

Vivian was talking to Lou. ‘Who would do such a thing? And why? Can you believe it? And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Harper decides to tackle me. And I mean tackle. She threw me down the steps—’ She stopped, examining her knees. ‘Oh, God. Look at this. I’m all scraped up – my knees are going to be purple.’

‘You’ll be fine, Ma. The police will be here any second.’ Harper watched the street. ‘I’m sure they’ll bring an ambulance—’

‘Oh for the love of Pete,’ Lou grumbled. ‘Nothing happened. A window broke.’

‘Lou, someone threw a bomb into my house.’ Harper crossed her arms, fuming.

‘But it was a dud. Why the hell can’t we just forget about it? Leave the police out of it.’

‘Why are you trying to avoid the police, Lou?’

‘Harper! How can you ask such a thing?’ Vivian scolded. ‘Good Lord, I could use a Scotch.’

Harper could, too. But unable to have one for several more months, she listened for sirens and thought about Lou. About why a bomb had been tossed into her dining room. About what would have happened if it had gone off.

Gazing at the fraternity, Harper had another idea. ‘When did those boys leave, Ma?’

‘What?’

‘This morning. How long did those two guys stay after Leslie came over?’

‘Oh, they left right away. Right after Lou wrapped up their cookies.’

‘And did you see where they went?’

‘No.’ Vivian frowned. ‘Why would I? What’s your point?’

‘Yeah, what are you getting at?’ Lou leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ‘Are you saying you think that they’re the ones who threw the bomb? Why would you think that?’

Harper didn’t know why. But suddenly, she suspected it. Wasn’t it a big coincidence that they’d come over for the first time that morning and that, as soon as they’d left, a home-made explosive device had come crashing through the window? In fact, maybe they’d come over simply to see the layout of the house to decide where to throw it.

‘No way.’ Lou’s growl was low. ‘Why would they? Besides, those guys are too soft. They wouldn’t get their hands dirty building a bomb. If they even knew how to go about it. Which they wouldn’t. You think that’s what they teach at a fancy place like Cornell? How to blow up houses?’

‘You can get the recipe on the Internet.’ Harper rubbed her hands, trying to warm up.

‘They’re not the type.’

‘No? I think they are. I think those two are hiding some—’

‘No,’ Lou barked. ‘You’re getting it all wrong.’ He stood up, faced Harper, then Vivian. ‘The finger pointing at innocent people stops right now. Listen. I’m going to hurry up and tell you this before the cops get here. But what I say stays between us three.’ He stopped. Cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Vivian.’ He looked at the floor. ‘I haven’t been completely honest with you. I have a confession to make.’

Lou’s eyes darted around as he told them about the unhappy former clients who’d been tracking him, threatening him because of some lost goods.

Harper didn’t buy it. Not with the money and gun in Lou’s room, his story about Ed Strunk skimming cash, and Rita’s phone call warning of a hit. Besides, what kind of unhappy clients employed bombs instead of lawyers?

‘My trucks haul all kinds of cargo. We take everything everywhere. Some cartons apparently got lost in transit.’

‘Cartons.’ Harper echoed. ‘Weren’t they insured?’

‘Well, yes, but . . .’ Again, Lou cleared his throat. ‘We don’t actually check the contents of shipments. They were insured for paper goods. But it turns out these guys were using my trucks to move cash—’

‘Oh, Lou!’ Vivian covered her mouth, swooning.

Harper watched her and stopped breathing; she’d seen that same swoon before. A memory surfaced: Her father’s hands locked in cuffs, the police taking him away.

‘Anyway, they blame me for their money going missing. Even though I had nothing to do with—’

‘Bull. That’s the money you said was Ed’s? The money in your room?’

Lou gaped at her.

‘What money?’ Vivian did, too.

‘That money. That money has nothing to do with this.’

Harper just looked at him.

‘Harper!’ Vivian scolded. ‘Wait. Are you saying you snooped in—?’

‘It’s my house,’ Harper said flatly. ‘I have a right to know who and what is in it. Is that their money?’

‘There are limits,’ Vivian huffed. ‘You had no right to pry.’

‘Yes, I did have a right. And you should be glad I did, because that’s how I got the telephone message—’

‘Okay. Let’s just forget it—’

‘—about a hit on Ed Strunk. Coincidentally, just before someone threw a bomb into the house.’

‘A hit?’ Vivian gasped. ‘On Ed Who?’

For a moment, there was silence. Vivian turned away, her eyes vacant and dull.

‘It’s okay, Vivian.’ Lou knelt in front of her. ‘I’ll explain this later. But don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.’

Again, Harper pictured her father, his glib explanations.

Lou stood again, put his hands in his pockets. ‘These clients are trying to scare me.’

‘So, Ed Strunk.’ Harper didn’t let up. ‘That’s really you.’

Lou pressed his hands together as if in prayer. ‘Okay. God’s truth: I had to establish a new persona. It got ugly with these guys. Ed – it’s who I used to be. I’m sorry, Vivian. I truly didn’t mean for you to get mixed up in this. I thought it was over. I’d put it behind me. But – I don’t know how. But they found me, and they’ve been circling the house, watching me. The bomb – it was just to let me know they know where I am.’

Harper thought of the black SUV cruising the neighborhood, scouting. She hadn’t been imagining it after all.

‘Anyway, they gave me a deadline of this morning—’

‘This morning?’ Vivian gasped.

‘That’s when they said I had to get them their money. But I negotiated with them.’

‘You what? How? You’ve been with me.’

‘At night, Viv. When you were sleeping. I had meetings.’

Vivian’s eyes closed. She sat perfectly still. Sirens wailed in the distance.

‘Anyhow.’ Lou glanced out the window, into the hall again. ‘I met their guy last night and explained how I couldn’t meet their deadline because I don’t have and never did have their frickin’ money.’

‘But you do have money—’

‘That’s not a half of what they’re looking for. Anyhow, I convinced him to give me a few more days, but he said there would be consequences for being late.’

‘Consequences? Like a frickin’ bomb in my house?’ Harper was ready to clock Lou. Her knuckles itched, aching for impact.

‘Oh my God.’ Vivian still didn’t move. ‘What have you done, Lou? What are we going to do?’

The sirens grew louder, closer.

‘Vivian. Harper. Listen. This isn’t your problem, either one of you. I’ll take care of it. I swear. Don’t worry. Look, I’ll call a guy to replace the window. And I’ll deal with my clients—’

‘Exactly how are you going to take care of it if you don’t have their money?’ Harper didn’t back down. ‘What are you into, Lou? Or should I say “Ed”?’

‘I told you. They gave me an extension—’

‘And what happens when that extension runs out? What will they do next? Set my house on fire? Plant IEDs along the driveway? A minefield on the front lawn? Maybe they’ll mail us some anthrax.’ Harper’s voice was rising. ‘I can’t allow this. I’m pregnant. I can’t have you in my house, endangering my child. You’re going to have to leave—’

‘Harper?’ Vivian began.

‘No, Ma. It’s final.’

‘She’s right, Vivian. Until this thing is resolved, I shouldn’t be around you. Either of you. I’ll go—’

‘You’re not going anywhere without me,’ Vivian insisted. ‘If you go, I go, too.’

That was fine with Harper.

‘We can’t leave Harper alone—’

‘Yes, you can,’ Harper offered. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘No. We’ll stay until you can find someone else—’

‘Seriously? You’re a walking, breathing danger to me and my child, and the sooner you leave, the better.’

‘Shh!’ Lou looked into the hall, put a finger to his lips.

Police cars careened onto the street, sirens blaring.

‘Look,’ Lou whispered. ‘Just don’t tell anyone about this, okay?’

Vivian motioned that she was zipping her lips.

‘No way.’ Harper shook her head. ‘We have to tell the cops . . .’

Lights flashing, the cars pulled into the driveway.

Harper stood to go meet them, but Lou grabbed her sleeve, meeting her eyes. ‘I’ll take care of it. I promise.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘Please don’t tell them. Please.’

The technician wore protective clothing. His thick glove held up the bomb. ‘This is why it didn’t detonate, Detective.’ He pointed to a loose wire. ‘My guess is it detached during impact with the window. But it could have just been amateurish work. The device is as simple as they come. Whoever made it might not have attached the wires tight enough.’

Harper stood outside on the porch, straining to hear. Watching the specialists remove the bomb, observing their techniques. The war had taught her more than she wanted to know about improvised explosive devices. She’d known to run the instant she’d seen the phone taped to the pipe; the electric charge resulting from a call would have detonated the bomb. If not for a loose wire, she and her baby – and possibly her mother and Lou – might have been badly hurt, even dead. As the technician walked off with the bomb in a container, she went into the house, wrapped herself in her parka and sat shivering in the living room, remembering another bomb. She touched her damaged left leg, rubbed her scarred flesh. Pictured a boy whose face had been blown away. Realized she wasn’t having a flashback, just a memory.

‘Quite a tree.’ Detective Rivers eyed the gaudy lopsided monstrosity.

Harper no longer noticed it. Now she looked at it anew. The thing was almost invisible beneath all the red and gold, silver and blue glittered balls, silver and gold tinsel, spray-on fake snow, and blocked off by a dozen huge boxes covered with baby wrapping.

‘Your mother and her boyfriend are waiting with officers in separate rooms.’ Rivers sat on the sofa, facing Harper. ‘I want to talk to each of you separately.’ She paused. ‘First of all, are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?’

‘No. I’m fine. I have my regular appointment next week. I’m good until then.’

‘So.’ Rivers crossed her legs and sat back. ‘What’s the deal, Mrs Jennings? Lately, I’m here more than I’m in my own house.’

Harper took a breath. ‘All I know is that thing came through the window. I saw the detonator and we ran.’

A pause. ‘Let’s go over the last few days. You called because you saw a naked man being assaulted. Then you called again because you thought you saw someone trespassing next door. Now this bomb.’

‘So?’

‘Do you think these events are in any way related?’

‘Related?’ Wait. Did Rivers suspect Evan and Sty had thrown the bomb? ‘All I know is that this morning, Evan and Sty came over with some pastries.’

‘Very suspicious behavior,’ Rivers smiled. ‘Were there any cream-filled?’

‘No. But there are some left – would you like one?’

‘No, no. Go on.’

‘They said they had come over to look in on me after that big contraction. Like concerned neighbors. The bomb came in not long after they left.’

Rivers nodded, pursed her lips. ‘Do you have any idea who would want to blow up your family or your house?’

Harper swallowed. She should repeat what Lou had admitted about his client’s money. Should at least reveal that his name was really Ed Strunk. Again, she saw the blood rush from her mother’s face, her father being led away by police. Heard Lou beg her not to say anything.

The fact was, she could verify none of what he’d said. Had no idea who – or even if – the ‘clients’ actually were, no independent knowledge of their relationship. And he had promised to leave.

‘I don’t, no.’ It felt like a lie. In fact, it was a lie. Why was she lying for Lou/Ed who had endangered her home, her life and her child? Again, she saw her mother’s drained expression. Her hopeless lost eyes.