* * *

  Leroy pulled to the side of the road and waited as the fire engines screamed past them. Darius couldn’t contain his glee. “Ha. That’ll teach ’em.”

  Leroy was befuddled. “Teach who what?”

  Darius rolled his eyes. “What do you think that was, a Fourth of July celebration?”

  “You mean it was a bomb?” Leroy’s eyes were bugging out. His hands started trembling. He thought Darius was planting a GPS tracking device under the car. Not a gosh-durned bomb!

  “Just drive.” Darius folded his arms and leaned into the back of the seat. As they made their way to their motel, they stopped for a couple of sub sandwiches.

  When they got back to the room, the first thing Darius did was turn on the television. He was excited, anticipating the news.

  “Do you think they’ll have a special news report?” Leroy chomped into the onion-filled hoagie made with bologna, American cheese, ham, hot peppers, ketchup, and mayo.

  Even with his iron will and stomach, Darius was wincing as he watched his partner in crime wolf down the smelly, gross mess.

  Darius checked the cheap tabletop clock on the end table. “Maybe.” Darius smiled to himself. He didn’t know if the media in Irvington was quick enough, or if they even had media. He doubted they had their own television stations. He sat back and picked up the equally cheap remote. He clicked on the TV. So far, it was the usual national shows—Today, Good Morning America. Then there was Good Morning Virginia. He focused on that one. It was local enough. Just as the clock was about to hit nine, a beeping sound came over the air.

  “We interrupt this program to bring you this breaking news. A car exploded in front of the historic The Tides Inn. The cause of the explosion is not yet known. A spokesperson from the hotel said that one woman was injured and rushed to the hospital. No names have been released. We hope to have more details at the noon hour.”

  Darius sprung up from his chair, the sub sandwiches toppling to the floor. “Did they say a woman?” His eyes were bugging out.

  Leroy licked some of the ketchup from his lips. “Yep. I think so.”

  Darius tried several buttons on the remote, hoping one would be rewind. No such luck. He let out a growl that would rival a grizzly bear’s and began to pace the floor.

  “I don’t get it.” Leroy had a stupefied look on his face. More stupefied than usual.

  “Damnation! It was supposed to go off when he got in the car.” The piece he constructed had consisted of a switch, steel wool, and a 9-volt battery. It was set to detonate when there was a vibration. He hadn’t counted on someone popping the trunk. Everything had been carefully fabricated with no paper trail, well-planned and executed, except the execution itself. Darius knew she might be collateral damage, but she wasn’t the target. He was furious. “It was supposed to be for him.” He kicked the dilapidated chair in the corner, turning it into a pile of splinters.

  “Holy cow! I didn’t know you were going to kill somebody!” Leroy had raw onion stuck to his chin stubble. His eyes were watering. “Holy cow,” he repeated. Leroy might not be playing with a full deck, but he had enough sense to know he was now an accomplice. He kept shaking his head. “Oh, mercy me. Now what?”

  “We move on. We don’t have time for a do-over for this one. But I will have some comfort if she dies. He’ll still suffer.” Darius stuck a toothpick into his mouth and began to chew, working on the next plan.

  “But what if they find out it was us? We need to get out of here!” Leroy was becoming a little unglued. This was not what he signed up for. But now he was in it big-time. His only consolation was the money, and under the circumstances, it had to happen pronto. “So when do you think we’ll get some money?” Leroy finally wiped his lunch off his face.

  “I have to call him later.” Darius never shared his ultimate goal with Eric or the rest of them, and Eric didn’t want to know anyone else’s plans, either. It was an exchange of money for services rendered. What they did with the money was up to them, although Eric suspected Darius had some kind of revenge planned.

  But Darius wasn’t finished producing more bodily harm. He was focused on the people who put him in the concrete palace. Like his ex-girlfriend. She dropped him like a hot potato after his arrest. Didn’t he do all of this for her? She was on the list. Thanks to technology, they were able to locate her after fourteen years. She was married and had moved to Austin. Now all they had to do was get details. Eric and Bennie were on it. Darius liked Austin. Too bad he’d be in and out in a few hours. But first, he’d deal with his former lawyer. A public defender. Probably graduated at the bottom of his class. Didn’t even try to make a deal on Darius’s behalf. And wasn’t that what lawyers were supposed to do?

  Darius wasn’t sure what he was going to do in the long run. For the short term, he was heading to a small town on the Gulf and taking a boat to Mexico. Growing up on a ranch in Texas made him almost fluent in Spanish. Enough to get his ideas across, and enough to understand most. He was still in good shape, thanks to the great workout equipment they provided in jail. Eric had promised them all $50k, which would buy him plenty of time to find work. He’d figure it out when he got there. The main thing was to get out of where he was now.

  * * *

  Leroy had no interest in revenge. Not in the usual sense. His idea of revenge was showing off a Winnebago to his cousins and making them jealous. Yep, that sayin’ was true: Living well is the best revenge. Leroy heard an actor say that in a movie. Leroy’s idea of living well was living in a vehicle and being able to drive anywhere he pleased. Leroy would be the courier, like in Mission: Impossible. Or was it one of them Jason Bourne movies? he wondered.

  * * *

  Bennie’s participation was to help coordinate their plans without leaving any traces. It was as if he were orchestrating a silent symphony. It was rather exciting. Pulling strings. And for his efforts in and out of jail, he, too, would receive a sum of cash. His plan for the money was to start over somewhere with people less perverted than he was. A midsize city, maybe in the Carolinas. No one would know who he was. He would use the new false ID Eric arranged for him. He would live anonymously in a small city with a million people. Technically, he was supposed to register wherever he lived. But who would know he moved? No one in his family spoke to him. None of his friends wanted anything to do with him. He could start over. His own version of a witness protection program. People didn’t take kindly to perverts. His only saving grace was that he never touched anyone. But what he had done was creepy, nonetheless.

  * * *

  Eric’s plan was simple. Once the funds were transferred and verified, he would work his way south to Ecuador. Specifically, to Cuenca, the third largest city, with a population just under half a million. It had several universities, where he could blend in with his chino pants and button-down shirts. His plan was to wire money for a large one-bedroom flat he’d found on the second floor of a private home within walking distance of the main town. He would tell them he was a writer. Not a real stretch. After all, he’d made up one heck of a hedge fund story.

  Now he was just waiting to hear from Darius and Leroy before moving on to the next step.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pinewood

  Charles lifted Myra from the floor and helped her to the atrium. She was trembling uncontrollably. He poured some of the same whiskey he had the night before. He knew it was still early, but Myra needed something to steady her nerves, even if it meant simply focusing on holding the glass. With all the upheaval, Charles forgot Cooper was about to arrive. He remembered as soon as he heard the familiar bark. “Myra, my love, Cooper is here with Harry. Let me go fetch them.” He patted her on the knee and kissed her on the forehead.

  Charles opened the door. He couldn’t hide his concern from Harry.

  “Charles? Everything okay?”

  Cooper brushed past them and headed straight over to Myra and put his head on her lap.

  “It’s Nikki. There’s been some kind of accident. Jack said the car exploded,” Charles explained.

  Harry’s eyes went wide. “What? How is she? Where are they?”

  “Irvington. Jack surprised her with a long weekend at The Tides Inn.” Charles motioned for Harry to follow him inside. “I was just in the process of calling Annie and Fergus.”

  “I have a little time. What can I do to help?” Harry walked into the atrium and gave Myra a hug. She looked up and gave him a weary smile, tears running down her cheeks.

  Charles nodded in the direction of the kitchen. He walked over to Myra. “Love, I’m going downstairs to contact everyone.”

  She blinked several times. Charles wondered if she was in shock and decided one of the calls he made should be to Dr. Falcon.

  Charles hurried down the stairs, with Harry following him.

  “Will she be all right up there alone?” Harry asked.

  “She has Cooper. He’s smarter than both of us.” Charles smiled for the first time since receiving Jack’s call.

  “Speaking of Cooper, why the rush to get him here?” Harry asked.

  “Ask Cooper. Evidently, he was pacing, and he pulled his gear from the closet like he usually does and plopped it at their front door. Julie called, and here he is.” Charles stopped suddenly. “And Myra was having some bad juju feelings.”

  “She’s never been wrong,” Harry recalled.

  “Indeed. I also have another issue I need help with, but let’s get the texts rolling.”

  “Why don’t you do a group call?” Harry was confused as to why Charles chose texting rather than their usual means of communicating.

  “That’s the other issue I am going to have to deal with.” Charles shook his head, and he punched in Fergus’s number.

  “What’s up, mate?” Fergus was much more awake than he was the night before.

  “There’s been some kind of accident. Nikki is in the hospital, and we don’t know what her status is except she is stable.” Charles rushed out as much information as he had.

  “As soon as the plane gets here, we’ll turn it around and come home,” Fergus promised.

  “Thanks, mate. Myra could use Annie right now.”

  “I’ll get things sorted on my end. We’ll see you later today. Keep me posted on Nikki’s progress.”

  Both men clicked off at the same time. In the meantime, Harry wrote a group text to the list of Sisters in his speed dial:

  There’s been an accident. Nikki is in the hospital in Irvington, Virginia. She’s stable but that’s all we know for now. They’re running tests. Jack is at the hospital. I’ll text when I know more. Stand by.

  Before Harry hit send, he asked Charles, “Do you want them to come here?”

  “Not yet. Not until we know more.” Charles took in a deep breath. He dialed Dr. Falcon’s number next and explained what little he knew, including that he feared Myra was going into shock. The good doctor told Charles he would be there within the next half hour.

  As they were about to head back up the stairs, Charles snapped his fingers. “Can you see if you can get Abner on the phone? I suspect something is amiss with our VPN.”

  “You sure do have your hands full.” Harry gave Charles a hefty pat on the shoulder. “Whatever you need, you know you can count on us.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  When they got back to the atrium, Myra was sitting up tall and looked quite lucid. She stared at Charles. “I told you.”

  “Yes, you did.” Charles took her hand. “I didn’t doubt you, my love. I simply didn’t want you to worry until something really happened.”

  “Well, now it has.” Myra wiped a tear with her sleeve. “I want to see her.”

  “Right now, she’s at Rappahannock General. It’s a three-hour drive. Let’s wait a bit. At least until we know something. They may have to transfer her to a different hospital. Please, Myra, try to stay calm. Think good thoughts. Dr. Falcon will be here shortly.”

  Harry stood in the kitchen, trying to answer all the text messages that were bombarding his phone. Isabelle, Yoko, Kathryn, and Alexis, the other members of the Sisterhood, were all frantically responding to Harry’s text:

  “What?”

  “What happened? Where is she?”

  “What about Jack? Is he all right?”

  “Where’s Myra? Charles?”

  “Are Annie and Fergus with them?”

  “Should we come?”

  Harry typed back:

  Rappahannock Hospital. Jack is okay. He’s with her. Waiting for tests. I’m with Myra and Charles now. Cooper is here. Will let you know when we know.

  He walked back to the atrium and gave Charles a look that said, “Uh, boy . . .”

  Several minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was Dr. Falcon.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly.” Charles ushered him into the atrium and explained what had happened, concluding with, “We’re waiting for test results.”

  Dr. Falcon approached Myra. “Hello, Myra. I heard you had some disturbing news this morning. I can assure you, the doctors at Rappahannock are top-notch, even if it’s a rural community. Who wouldn’t want to live on the bay?” He was trying to get her to ease up with some casual banter. As casual as one could be, knowing your patient had just received devastating news. “I’m going to take your blood pressure. Is that all right?”

  Myra nodded. The doctor wrapped her wrist with a new device that no longer required pumping or using a stethoscope. Her blood pressure was 140 over 90.

  “It’s elevated, but that’s not a surprise,” the doctor stated.

  Myra finally spoke. “It’s the not knowing. I can’t stand it.”

  “Yes, it’s normal to feel the way you do,” Dr. Falcon said in his most kindly manner. “How about I give you something to help calm your nerves?”

  “No!” Myra shouted. “I want to be compos mentis when we hear from Jack.”

  “This isn’t going to knock you unconscious. Just calm you a bit.” Dr. Falcon turned to seek help from Charles. He nodded at the glass of scotch Myra was still clutching in her hand.

  Charles took the glass and noticed she hadn’t had any of it. He shook his head, indicating to the doctor that Myra hadn’t consumed any alcohol. “What is it you want to give her?” Charles asked.

  “Half a milligram of Xanax. It’s an anti-anxiety drug,” Dr. Falcon explained. “Most people can function normally with that dose, although I wouldn’t recommend driving a car or one of your souped-up golf carts.” He gave a slight smile and looked at Myra straight on.

  “Myra, I promise you, this will make you feel a bit better. You won’t be trembling. Your mind will be more at ease. You’ll be able to think more clearly, even though it’s an anti-anxiety drug. It’s not a narcotic.”

  Myra took in a long, deep breath. “Well, I don’t have anything else to do.” She rolled up her sleeve.

  “We don’t even have to do that.” The doctor smiled. “Charles, can you get us a glass of water, please?”

  Charles dashed into the kitchen and returned with a pitcher and two glasses. “I didn’t know if you wanted one as well,” he explained.

  Dr. Falcon tapped out a pill from a prescription bottle. “Here,” he said to Myra, “take this now. You should feel a bit less stressed in about twenty minutes.” He handed the bottle to Charles. “There are two more in there if she needs them tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, mate.” Charles put the bottle on the buffet, hoping it wouldn’t be needed again.

  “I have to get going.” Dr. Falcon stood and packed his bag. “I’ll check in with you later. Keep me posted on Nikki’s condition, and if there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to call me.”

  “Right-o.” Charles shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks again.” He walked Dr. Falcon to the door. Cooper went back to his previous position, with his head on Myra’s lap. Lady and her pups were still at her feet.

  Charles motioned for the dogs to move as he helped Myra to the sofa. He propped a few pillows behind her head and wrapped a blanket around her. He kissed her on the forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Try to get some rest.” The dogs repositioned themselves, as if they were guarding a precious gem. And they were.

  Charles went into the kitchen, where Harry was still fielding text messages from the Sisters. “Listen,” Charles said, “I am having some issues with the VPN. I need to get Abner here ASAP.”

  “He’s out of the country right now. What about Izzie? She’s really a good substitute.”

  “Yes, she is, but I don’t know what I’m dealing with yet. I need someone who knows our system inside and out.”

  “Let me check with Izzie and see if she can contact Abner.” Harry sent off a text to Isabelle.

  The kitchen phone rang. Charles jumped to answer it. “Yes?”

  “Charles, it’s Jack.” He was calling from one of the hospital phones. He could barely speak. “She’s suffered a severe brain injury and is in a coma. The good news is that she can still breathe on her own. They said it’s a good sign.” Jack’s voice was quivering.

  “Jackson University Hospital in Philadelphia is one of the best neuroscience facilities in the country. Do you think she would be able to be moved there?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” Jack was on shaky ground. “The doctor is going to meet me in a few minutes, after his rounds. I’ll discuss it with him and get back to you. How is Myra?”

  “Quite upset, but Dr. Falcon gave her something to calm her nerves. Jack? It’s going to be okay. Let’s all think positively.”

  “Right.” Jack sighed. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Charles hung up the phone. He was hesitant to say anything to Myra just yet. If the doctors thought it was feasible to move Nikki, then Charles would arrange everything and then let Myra know. He peeked into the atrium and saw she was dozing. He then turned to Harry. “Any word from Izzie?”

  “There was a colleague of Abner’s in school. She works for the DOD on highly classified projects. He recommended we get in touch with her. Coincidently, she, too, suffered a coma and memory loss. Some kind of accident. But she’s good to go. Her real name is Libby Gannon.”