“The folder,” she said, coughing. “Put me down. We need that file folder. It’s in my bag.” She rushed back toward the car.
Smoke caught her by the arm. “Let it go,” he said. “It’s over. We’re lucky to be alive after that hit.”
Sidney watched the Interceptor go up in flames. Bright orange flames and black smoke rolled out from under the hood and through the windows. She had thought about torching it herself on more than one occasion. It was a good way for a bad car to go. Still, it shouldn’t have caught fire and burned like that.
“Here,” Smoke said, handing her cell phone to her. “I saved this.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking it and sliding it into her pocket. “Say, what were you saying before that truck ran into us?”
“I was saying that the truck, the black semi, was marked Drake Transportation Industries.”
***
After the first fire engine arrived, it took four more hours to clear the scene. Covered in a blanket, Sidney was cold, stiff, and sore. She rubbed her head. Speaking to the officer on scene, she finished off the last of her statement. “Mind if I take a look at what’s left of my car?” The tow driver was loading it up on the trailer. “Sentimental, you know.”
“I don’t think there’s much left to see,” he said, taking the report. “And you probably should go to a hospital.”
“I’m okay.” She limped toward the tow truck, grimacing. A fireman in a yellow coat and hard hat was standing there. “You see many cars after a wreck go up in flames like that?”
“It happens all the time in the movies but not so much in DC—or on a Crown Vic. Those are pretty safe cars. That’s why cops used them. A decade ago.” He tipped his hat at her. “But I’ve seen stranger things happen.”
“Thanks,” she said. She turned to the tow truck driver. He was a burly roughneck in dirty overalls. “What about you? Have you seen many cars go up in flames?”
He spat juice on the sludgy ground. “It happens. But it’s odd how some of the metal just melted. Like there was an accelerant or something. I’ve seen paints and coating that burn like hot welds.” He spat again. “That was back in my military days.” He winked at her. “Hush hush. You didn’t hear it from me.” He hopped into his cab, hung his waving arm out the window, and said, “So long.”
The tow truck pulled away, revealing Smoke standing on the other side. He had his duffle bag strapped over his shoulder. Patting it and saying, “Fireproof,” he walked up and handed her what was left of her satchel. “Not fireproof. I peeled what I could off the carpet.”
The satchel was charred leather, but a few pages from the file folder remained intact. She rubbed her head. “Are they trying to kill us or scare us?”
“I don’t think it makes much of a difference to them.”
Angry, she set her jaw. “Well, it makes a difference to me.”
The police officer from a moment earlier was waving them over to his sedan. He said, “Do you two want a lift or not? I’ve got things to do.”
Sidney sulked in the back seat. At her side, Smoke was oddly quiet and staring out the window. She’d given the policeman directions to the storage yard that housed her Dodge Hellcat. On Smoke’s advice, she’d sent a text to Ted stating that the accident was only a fender bender and she had other means of transportation. Screw ‘em, she thought. They aren’t completely honest with me, so I won’t be completely honest with them.
It was 7:32 pm when the officer dropped them off. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”
“We’re fine,” she said. “Thanks, Officer Parrish.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
Within the next five minutes she had the Hellcat pulled out and was speeding down the highway. She passed the spot where they crashed. Better their car than mine. RIP Interceptor.
Sidney fumed inwardly in silence the entire ride home. Someone was coming after her, her family, and her friends. It was personal now, and all she could think of was Congressman Wilhelm’s last words. “Watch your step.” Perhaps I need to pay him a visit.
“We’ll take it to them, Agent Shaw,” Smoke said, resting his head against the glass and closing his eyes. “You can count on it.”
She eased the car off the highway and onto a gravel road dusted in snow. It winded two miles deep through the woods until they passed by two stone pylons. The gravel road jostled Smoke from his snoring.
He sat up. “Are you a farm girl or something?”
“I think you probably already know the answer to that is no.”
Ahead, some red and white lights were flashing. She wheeled around the curve and came to a stop on the edge of the gravel driveway to her parents’ home. An ambulance was parked in front of the garage.
“Good Lord,” Sidney said, rushing out of the car. “What now?”
CHAPTER 10
Sidney rushed into the house. Her first fear was that her sister had overdosed. Instead, she found her father sprawled out on his recliner, surrounded by two paramedics.
“Will you get away from me!” Keith wore a brick-colored flannel shirt under a pair of jean overalls. The sleeves were rolled up. His grey hair was a frizzled mess. “Sally, why did you do this? I’m fine, I tell you. I’m fine.”
Sally stood nearby wringing her hands. Her frosty blonde hair was up in a bun, and she wore a plum-colored apron. “You hush, Keith. I’m not having you die on me.”
“I’m not dying,” he growled back, rolling his eyes. “It’s heartburn, I tell you.”
“You’re all clammy,” Sally argued.
“You need to clam up. I told you I was fine.” Keith rolled his thick neck around and saw Sidney. “Sid!” His face brightened. “Will you arrest these men?”
“Sidney!” Sally exclaimed, rushing over and grasping her arm. “Talk some sense into him.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“He collapsed on the sofa.”
“I did not,” Keith said. “I just tripped because I felt a little dizzy, and your mother went into a panic.” He glared at one of the blue-clad paramedics. “Let me go.”
“His blood pressure is high,” one of the paramedics said. She was a no-nonsense burly woman. “But the heartbeat is strong. We need to take him in and run some tests on him. Be on the safe side.”
“Of course my blood pressure is high. It’s the holidays, isn’t it. And you, ball breaker, aren’t making life any easier. Now get in your death wagon and get out of here.”
“Keith!” Sally said. “You settle down right now! And apologize to that young lady. They’re trying to help you.”
“No, they’re trying to take my money.” He pulled his arm away from the man who was taking his pulse. “Well, guess what? I don’t have any money. No insurance, either.”
Sidney walked over to the paramedics. “Give me a minute.”
“And you are?” the woman paramedic said, eyeing her.
“A lot more difficult than him if you care to find out.”
“We’re just doing our job,” the woman said, stepping aside.
Sidney kneeled alongside her father and clasped his calloused hand. It was warm but not clammy. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“Nothing,” he said.
Keith was a retired deputy sheriff with over thirty years on the force. Hard as nails. He once cut the tip of his finger off and tried to stitch it back on himself. Now he had a missing finger to show for it, down to the second knuckle.
“How do you feel?” she said, rubbing his palm. “Really?”
Keith looked away. “Crowded.”
He looked tired, too. His grey eyes sagged a little, and deeper creases were in his face. Decades on the force had caught up with him and perhaps something else too. Allison. Sidney’s stomach sank. Allison was wearing them down.
“Dad, do you really think you’re all right?”
He nodded her over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t tell your mother, but I think I forgot my medicine.” He choked. “Don’t let them take me
to that hospital, Sid. I won’t go. Mortimer died the last time he went. I won’t go, I tell ya. I won’t.”
Mortimer was his younger brother, her uncle, who had died the year before from the flu. They’d taken him in for fluids, and he’d never come back out again. It had sapped a good bit of her father’s hardened resolve. Her iron-clad father had become mortal.
“All right. Just sit tight.”
She led the paramedics outside. “Did you pick up anything serious?”
“No,” the woman said, “but you never know.”
“He says he didn’t take his medicine.”
“That’ll do, but I still advise caution,” the lady said. “But I see your mind’s made up, and I’m pretty sure his is too. We’ll get on out of here.”
Sidney handed her a business card. “Thanks. And if you can, send this bill to me.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Back inside, Sidney’s mother was sitting on the couch talking with Smoke.
So much for introductions.
“Sidney, you didn’t tell me you had a handsome new partner?” She patted Smoke’s leg. “And he’s a nice one. Tall, dark—”
“Mom, I think I smell something burning in the kitchen.”
Sally jumped up. “What?” Her bright eyes widened. “My pies!” She shot a look at her husband and rushed into the kitchen. “You burned my pies.”
“I didn’t burn them.” Keith let out a breath and watched the ambulance back out of the driveway. “Ah, I feel better already. Say chief,” he said to Smoke, “toss me that remote. And Sid, think you can grab my pill case from the medicine cabinet?”
She started down the hall. Megan, dressed in pink and purple pajamas, wrapped her arms around Sid’s legs.
“Aunt Sidney! I didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow.” She sniffed and looked up at her. “Why do you smell smoky? Is that blood on your nose?”
Sidney hoisted the little girl up on her hip. “You know, you’re going to make a great detective some day.”
“I want to be an FBI agent like you so I can waste the bad guys.”
“Oh, and where did you hear I did that?”
“Grandpa,” she said cheerfully.
“Well,” said Sid, carrying Megan into her parents’ bathroom with her. “I’m certain that you’re going to grow up to be whatever you want to be.” Inside the medicine cabinet she found a plastic pillbox with each day of the week. Half of the cabinet was filled with prescriptions. Do I have this to look forward to? Insane. She handed the pill case to Megan. “Take this to Grandpa, and don’t let Grandma see. Okay?”
Megan nodded yes. “You can count on me.” She saluted and disappeared into the bedroom.
Wish I could say the same about your mother. She rummaged through the cabinet. There were pain pills, muscle relaxers, high blood pressure pills, cholesterol regulators, and anti-depressants. Geez! She checked some of the dates. They were recent. Allison! She snapped the mirrored cabinet shut and began washing her face off. She scrubbed her hands with vigor.
Allison! Allison! Allison!
Her younger sister had begun the art of parental manipulation at an early age. Her being the youngest, her parents let her get away with it. Allison was every bit as charming as she was conniving. She used her beauty shamelessly to get whatever she wanted. Most mortal men found it impossible to tell her no. Hussy. Where is she anyway? Sid had just finished drying her face off when she heard her sister’s concocted laughter coming from the living room. Sidney threw the hand towel down on the sink and headed out there.
Smoke sat in the middle of the couch smiling. Megan was on one side. Allison was on the other. Long legs crossed and brushing against his, wearing only a flimsy pink top and white cotton yoga pants, she left little to the imagination. She tossed her hair and laughed some more. “You are so funny,” she said, twirling her finger in her hair. “Much more than the last one. What was his name?”
Shut up, you hussy!
CHAPTER 11
“Cyrus,” Sidney’s father answered.
“Frosty,” Smoke said, perking up.
Sidney cut between them. “Time to change the subject.”
“Cyrus Tweel?” Smoke said to Sidney.
“So you’ve met him,” Allison said. “Too bad for you, I’d say.” She checked her nails. “But he was a good match for my sister.”
“Drop it, Allison,” Sidney warned through her teeth.
“Oh, get over it. That was years ago, but it seems like it was yesterday.” Allison giggled as she eyed Smoke. She leaned forward, offering a generous view of her ample boobs. “I was sitting right here, nursing Megan—”
Sidney closed in on her sister. “Stop it, Allison.”
Allison put her hand on Smoke’s thigh and let out a haughty little laugh. “You know what he looks like, right?”
Smoke nodded.
“Well, the little worm got down on one knee and proposed to my sister in front of everybody. Ha. You should have seen the look on Sidney’s little face. She looked like she swallowed a rodent.”
“It made for a frosty summer day,” Keith said, shaking his head. “I’ll never forget it.”
It took all of Sidney’s willpower to keep from strangling Allison. Her eyes were daggers. I hate you.
“So—” Smoke started.
“I said no.” Sidney slunk over to the love seat adjacent to the fireplace and took a seat. It was a day she’d do anything to forget. She liked Cyrus, but the relationship had topped off after several months of dating. She’d been ready to move on but had dragged it on too long, and he had made his move.
“She really did say no,” Allison said, pressing into Smoke’s shoulder and eyeing her sister. “Right then and right in front of everybody. You should have seen his face: like a wounded dog that quickly became dark and angry. And my sister says I’m a tease.”
“No,” Sidney interjected. “I say you’re a hussy.”
“Sidney!” Sally exclaimed, re-entering the room with a tray of cookies. “We will not have that kind of talk in this house, especially over the holidays. Now leave your little sister alone.” She set the tray down on the coffee table and faced Smoke. “What would you like to drink?”
“Milk is always best with cookies, if it’s not a problem.”
“Milk goes great with a lot of things,” Allison said.
“Allison,” Sally said, “go and put something decent on.”
“This is decent, don’t you think—John, is it?”
Smoke turned his head toward Sally. “I always respected my mother’s wisdom, and I think your mother’s is very much the same.”
Sally’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and with an approving nod, she shuffled back to the kitchen.
Allison stood up with a huff, ran her fingers along the waistband of her yoga pants, and slunk out of the room, saying, “I’m sure I can find something much more traditional and boring in Sidney’s room.”
The tightness in Sidney’s chest started to ease, and the room’s atmosphere lightened. She found Smoke’s eyes searching hers with a curious look in them. What must he think of me? And Cyrus? Damn!
“Aunt Sidney,” Megan said, crawling up on the love seat and laying her head on Sid’s shoulder. “What’s a hussy?”
Damn.
***
About an hour later, Sidney sat on the hearth with Megan sleeping on a pillow in her lap. She flipped the business card her mother had let her see through her fingers. Edwin Lee with Drake Real Estate Appraisers. A voicemail picked up when she called the number.
“I can’t say, Sid,” Keith said, yawning. “He seemed all right. Not a twitch about him.”
“So a man shows up out of the blue and you just let him inside?”
“Your mother did that.”
“He was nice, and he looked cold,” Sally said, knitting a bundle of bright green yarn. She glanced at Smoke. “Would you like some more cookies, John?”
“No thank you.” He patted his
belly. “Those were fine though. I love chocolate chips and pecans. And what were those white chocolate things with the peanut butter in them?”
“Oh, those are Ritz crackers, Jiffy dipped in melted chocolate ….”
Sidney let her mom ramble on. Holidays were her thing: cooking, talking, and making merry. She hadn’t always been so jovial. Her parents had been stalwart, once upon a time. They had two girls and two older boys, and her mother had taken a switch to every one of them on more than one occasion. But now her mother wouldn’t swat a fly.
“Sid, I’m sorry. I don’t hear so well. I can’t see, either,” Keith started, clearing his throat. He picked something up off of his end table by the recliner. “And I have to use this magnifying glass to read my comic books. I never believed my father when he told me, ‘Getting old’s not for sissies.’ Well hell, he was right.”
She brushed Megan’s hair aside. Megan was sweet, smart, and adorable. Sid wished she had more time with her. The little girl didn’t deserve the hard life Allison put her through. No one did. She sighed. “Dad, where did he sit?”
“Right there, where John is. Why?”
“Did he go anywhere else?” she asked. “Use the phone or anything?”
“No. Sally,” he said, interrupting her mother’s story. “Sally!”
Her mother jerked up. “What did I tell you about using that tone with me?”
“If you’d answer me the first time I wouldn’t have to.”
“What do you want? I’m talking.”
“I know that. Everybody knows that. You’re always talking.” He rolled his eyes at Sidney. “Always. And it ain’t to me. It’s to the wall, the cat, the dog, the plants.”
“What is your question?” Sally demanded.
“Did that man go anywhere else in the house besides the couch?”
“No,” she said, looking up and tilting her head. “Um… Oh, yes, he asked to go to the bathroom.”
“Speaking of which,” Smoke said, “may I make use of your facility?”
“Certainly, John, second door on the right down the hall.”
As soon as Smoke got up, the house phone started ringing. It was an olive green handset from the eighties. No caller ID to be found. Sally picked it up and in a welcoming voice said, “Hello, Shaw residence.” She made a sour face. “Smoke?” Her brows buckled in concentration. “Oh, John Smoke. Yes, he’s here.” She made an excited face at Smoke, who’d stopped in the hall. “And may I ask who’s calling?”
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition) Page 18
