Stone Cold Foxe

by Haley Walsh

  “No, it’s not all going to be Motown,” he said indignantly, surreptitiously scribbling out part of the list. “I was just wondering the kind of music you like. It occurred to me that I’ve never really heard your playlist.”

  “I’m not much into music per se.”

  “I know, but you must like something. We can throw in all kinds of music you’d like.” He snorted a laugh. “As long as it isn’t country.” He chuckled. Then he looked up. Keith wore a pensive expression. Uh oh. “It…isn’t country, is it?”

  “I like a little of that, yes.”

  “Oh. Well…then, we can…can…”

  “You hate it.”

  “I don’t hate it, I just…”

  Keith folded his arms over his chest, one brow quirked. He seemed annoyed…until he burst out laughing. “Man, I love to watch you squirm. You are so funny when you backpedal.”

  “So wait. You don’t like country western? You’re just saying that to fuck with me.”

  “Yeah, I do actually like some of it, but not that much. Not so much as to ruin your wedding.”

  “It’s your wedding, too. And I want you to have the stuff you want included. Even if it is shitty cowboy music.”

  “And just what’s wrong with cowboys? Hot, sweaty men, with lots of leather and…ropes.”

  “Oh. Well, if you put it that way…”

  Keith scanned the table. “More gifts? This is embarrassing.”

  “It’s the proper response to a wedding invitation.”

  “But we don’t need anything.”

  Skyler drew back, scandalized. “Tablecloths, vases, crystal. I beg to differ.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Keith picked up the envelope. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know. I was going to ask you. When I opened it, the thing fizzled and smoked a little. I thought maybe it was a—”

  Keith suddenly grabbed Skyler and dragged him toward the door.

  “Wait! What’s going on!”

  Out they went and Keith hurtled with him down the steps. “Keith? What the—”

  He planted Skyler behind his truck in the street and crouched down with him. Skyler felt ridiculous as a few cars whizzed past.

  “Keith?”

  But Keith was on the phone with one hand, shoving Skyler hard against the truck with the other. “This is an emergency,” he barked into the phone. “Bring the bomb squad immediately!”

  Chapter Seven

  MEN IN HUGE PADDED SUITS HAD MARCHED INTO their apartment, evacuating the other two apartments in the converted Victorian mansion. Skyler hadn’t said a word, too dumbstruck to believe that someone had tried to send him a bomb. Thankfully, it hadn’t worked, or the first time he’d opened it would have been his last.

  Still shirtless, Keith was talking to another FBI agent from the look of his suit, gesturing toward Skyler as he hung back against Keith’s big Ford F-150. Just as he was wishing for the umpteenth time that Sidney was here, he saw her sedan pull up. Mike was at the wheel, and even before he could park she had jumped out and ran toward Skyler. He was in her arms in seconds and he held on tight.

  “Why is this happening?” he murmured into her hair.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. But I’m scared, Sidney.”

  Mike walked up behind his wife and looked down at Skyler. “You okay there, buddy?”

  He gently pushed Sidney back and straightened. “Hi, Mike. Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Sidney’s face smoothed from its earlier worry and became all business. “What can you tell me about that envelope?”

  “Nothing. It was just a regular manila kind of envelope. Padded. With wires and stuff in it. Explosives I guess. It smelled like almonds.”

  “C-4,” said Mike.

  “Did it have a return address?”

  “No.”

  “Cancellation stamp? Where was it from?”

  “I don’t know. I never looked. The Feds have it.”

  She glanced toward Keith and the agent before ignoring them again. “I’ll take a look later. Have you received any weird phone calls? Hang-ups? Any emails?”

  “No…but. Sidney. My car.”

  “What about your car?”

  “Remember how my brakes gave out? The repair place said it was probably mice or squirrels, but now I’m beginning to think that maybe my brake line was cut.”

  “Whoa,” said Mike. “Skyler, are you sure?”

  “The guy at the repair place saved it to show me. He said mice or squirrels gnawed through it, but it was a clean cut, like someone took a knife to it. Now maybe a mouse could do that, but the more I think about it, the less likely it seems. But I had no reason to believe that back then. I just took the repair guy’s word for it.”

  She whipped out a notebook from her trouser pocket. “Name and address of the repair place?”

  She wrote it down as he told her.

  “I doubt they’d have kept the broken line but I’ll talk to them, see what they say in light of this. Anything else?”

  He gestured toward the stairway built into the side of the house that led up to their apartment. Each space in the big Victorian had its own entrance. The other second floor apartment had theirs in the back, and the front ground floor had wide steps up to the wrap-around porch. “My stairs. One of them broke. But it was strange. A real clean break as if someone had sawn through it.”

  “What? Do you still have the step?”

  “It’s still up there. Keith gave it a temporary fix, but it’s still there. The landlady hasn’t fixed it yet.”

  She gestured to Mike without a word and he trotted away, grabbing a tech. They both walked toward the stairwell.

  “Looks like some incompetent killer has been trying to get at you for a while.”

  He inhaled a shaky breath. “I’m glad he’s incompetent.”

  “Me, too. Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Someone at Trixx you might have dissed? Some parent at school?”

  “I don’t think so. I always try to be nice to people.”

  “Not nice enough, apparently.”

  “Sid, what am I gonna do? I’m pretty scared one of these things might hurt Keith.”

  “It’s all right, hon. I’m on the job.” She patted his arm and moved over the lawn toward the other cops in uniform.

  Deep in his own thoughts he hadn’t even noticed when Keith came up to him. Instantly, he threw himself into his arms. He didn’t care that they were standing out in the street. He hugged him tight. “It’s okay, Skyler,” he rumbled into his ear. “I’ve got you.”

  “No,” he said fiercely. “I’ve got you!”

  Keith looked taken aback when he pulled away. And Skyler clarified. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Oh, babe.” He cupped Skyler’s cheek. “My brave man.”

  Fear receded, replaced by anger. Some asshole was stalking him, trying to off him. Okay. But he was not going to let this lunatic hurt his man. “I’m the target. Maybe I should go away for a while, lure them away.”

  “No.” The word was so firm and final that Skyler blinked.

  “I rather think that’s up to me.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would you still go to school?”

  “I…”

  “What about the wedding?”

  “I…”

  “Look, Skyler. Let’s talk to my fellow agents about this before you decide anything. And by the way, I’m not letting you leave.”

  “But—”

  “You’re not getting out of the wedding that easily.”

  “You think I’m trying to get out of it? Why don’t we just elope, then?”

  “Leave that whole party you planned behind? I don’t think so.”

  “I can’t have the fallout from this put you in danger.”

  “I can take care of myself. Let’s ha
ve a chat with the Bureau, shall we? Agents!” Keith called, beckoning them over. A woman in a dark blue pant suit and a man in a light gray suit, moved across the lawn toward them. Yellow police tape encircled the perimeter to the sidewalk. Even Skyler’s car was now being dusted under Sidney’s supervision.

  “This is agent Slokum,” said Keith, introducing the fortyish woman, “and this is agent Wolf. Skyler Foxe.”

  Slokum reached out first to shake his hand. She had shoulder-length, blonde hair held loosely by a wide barrette in the back of her head. Her face was attractive but stern, and she wore no make-up. She was older, perhaps older than Keith. “Mr. Foxe. Can you tell us about anyone who might hold a grudge against you?”

  “Like I was telling my friend, Detective Feldman”— He gestured toward her talking to a cluster of forensic techs and a few uniforms— “I don’t recall anyone whom I could describe that way.”

  “We understand that you do a little amateur crime-solving,” said Wolf. His dark hair was kept clipped short, which accentuated his long neck and patrician nose. His dark eyes would have attracted Skyler in their intense sexiness…had he been looking.

  “Yeah. Do…do you think this has something to do with that?”

  “You never know. It helps to explore the possibilities. Agent Fletcher here mentioned the step on your staircase, and the brake line on your car. I see Detective Feldman seems to be on it.”

  “I mentioned those things to her, yes. Do you think those were deliberate?”

  “I didn’t like the look of that stair from day one,” said Keith, sounding just like the FBI agents. He guessed it didn’t take Keith long to slip back into the mode. Even shirtless.

  Slokum swept the area with her glance. “It’s a good thing the suspect isn’t very good at it. Cutting a brake line on a car today isn’t the same as in the past. In some modern cars, you have to step on the brake to start it. Maybe our suspect has been watching too many old movies.”

  “I watch a lot of old movies,” offered Skyler, and then felt stupid for saying it.

  Luckily, Slokum ignored him. “They did a lousy job on the letter bomb, too. Probably got some half-baked instructions from the internet.”

  “So you have no idea,” said Skyler.

  “Not yet. We’ll dig a little deeper. I tell you what. I’d like to get a list of the crimes you’ve been involved in, some names.”

  “I wasn’t involved in the crimes. Only in solving them.”

  “Of course. That’s what I meant.”

  “Agent Slokum, Keith and I are getting married in less than a month. Should we…should we put that off?”

  She glanced at her partner. “I don’t see that you need to do that. But, uh…I’d like a guest list with addresses, too, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  She hitched a shoulder. “We’re looking at all possibilities, Mr. Foxe.”

  Skyler commiserated silently with Keith, but he was stone-faced. “Okay.” He took the card she offered with its official FBI seal embossed on it and let his hand fall to his side as they wandered toward Sidney to talk.

  Keith’s hand gripped his shoulder. “Listen,” he said quietly, “if you have any reservations about…about getting married, for God’s sake tell me now.”

  He whipped around. “No! I don’t. I am not looking for an excuse. I promise.”

  Keith nodded, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple rolling on his neck.

  Skyler reached up, pulled Keith’s head down for a kiss. “I’m not,” he said again.

  “Okay,” he answered. But Skyler couldn’t tell if the concern in his eyes was all about Skyler’s safety or about the wedding.

  The SFC all leaned in at their table at Taquito Grill, eyes wide, mouths agape, listening with rapt attention as Skyler told the tale of the various attempts on his life. Keith sat beside him, drinking his Corona from the bottle, and offering no commentary of his own, except for the occasional raised eyebrow.

  Finally, Skyler sat back, grabbed a chip, dipped it in the salsa, and crunched it, punctuating the end of his story.

  “Oh. My. GOD!” squealed Jamie, the first of them to snap out of it. “What are we gonna do? We have got to put our heads together.”

  “We’re going to let the Feds take care of it,” came the expected reply from Keith.

  “Keith,” said Philip, shaking his head. “Surely even you have something else to say about it.”

  Everyone looked at Keith. He was raising the beer to his lips again, when he paused and slammed it down sharply. “Fuck it. You know what? I’m not going to sit around while someone tries to kill my fiancé.”

  Sitting closest to him, Dave slapped him on the back. “I was worried about you for a moment there, dude.”

  Keith turned his scowl toward Skyler. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Skyler was still flung back in the booth, mouth flopped open in surprise. “Uh…”

  Jamie cheered. “The Scooby Gang to the rescue!”

  “All right, all right,” Keith muttered. “We’ve got to look at this thing like a detective.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “The stair step—clearly sawn in two. The brake line—cut. And a letter bomb. No proof yet, but I’m willing to call that one person.”

  “Oh crap,” said Skyler, getting his voice back. “You mean this could have been three people?”

  “Three people you pissed off that much?” said Jamie. He exchanged glances with Philip and Rodolfo. “There’s no way. People love the Skyboy.”

  Keith snorted. “The people he put behind bars don’t. How many is that now?”

  Skyler thought back. “Well…Coach Carson is dead…”

  “Thanks to Keith,” said Philip with chin raised. Skyler supposed he’d never forgotten how Carson had threatened Rodolfo.

  “But then there were his two assistant coaches,” Skyler continued. “Then that friend of Wesley Sherman, Jr. Then the army guy, then that guy that tried to get Dave…”

  Jamie gave his fireman boyfriend a one-armed squeeze.

  “Ramone from the Indian Reservation and those two FBI guys, and Denise Suzuki.”

  “You are so brave, amante,” gushed Rodolfo in his thick accent.

  Skyler felt a weird squirming in his gut. “Boy…that’s a lot, isn’t it?”

  Keith stared at him. “I guess I never thought about it. You did all that in a year. That’s…an impressive record even for a seasoned professional.”

  Skyler puffed a bit. “Really?”

  “It’s certainly nothing to sneeze at,” said Philip. “Not that I’m condoning it.”

  “So that’s nine people who hate me.” He frowned. He didn’t like people not liking him.

  Dave reached into the chip bowl and took a few. “But they’re all in jail. They can’t do any of this.”

  “And it’s not as if they’re mob bosses,” said Philip, sipping his margarita. “They can’t exactly direct their minions to go after you.”

  “So it’s a whole new person after me? Great.”

  Keith’s arm was around him, a warm presence of safety. “We’ll figure this out. We’ve all just got to be extra vigilant. And Sidney and Mike are on it, too. Nothing’s going to get past her…or me.”

  Skyler took in the intent expression of his fiancé, his friends, and felt a little calmer. It was the SFC to the rescue. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.” He raised his margarita glass. “To the Scooby Gang.”

  They all clinked glasses. Another criminal to foil. Number ten. They could do it. They did it before. They could do it this time.

  He drank down his margarita, tasting the sweet lime, tangy tequila, and salt around the glass’s rim. Hopefully, they’d get the guy sooner rather than later. He had a wedding to celebrate!

  Sidney told him that the envelope yielded nothing forensically. Stamps had their own adhesive now, and she bitterly complained about that. And the suspect had used gloves. But the good news was that the car repair guy sti
ll had the piece of broken brake line, and the police techs said that it had been cut, but the bad news was, there was nothing there either. A neighbor’s security camera yielded a shadowy person at Skyler’s stair sawing it in the dead of night, but the video was so crappy and the person so far away, hiding in a hoodie, that nothing came of that either.

  “So someone was definitely sawing your step,” said Jamie over the phone. “I mean we knew that but it’s creepy to actually see it. Did you see the footage?”

  “Yeah, Sidney let me. But I didn’t recognize them.”

  “But nothing’s happened since, right? Maybe they’ve given up. They must have seen the police all over your place. They must know the jig is up.”

  “I guess. Keith put a motion alarm on my car. I had no idea how many squirrels there were in the neighborhood.”

  “But that’s good. That means it’s sensitive.”

  “My neighbors aren’t pleased.”

  “A little inconvenience to keep you safe. So? How are you feeling?”

  “About…?”

  “About the wedding! It’s one week away.”

  Skyler was sitting at his desk at school, waiting for the lunch hour to be over. He pushed the papers he was correcting around absently. “I’m…nervous.”

  “You can’t be nervous. You know everyone who’s coming. Well, maybe not some of Keith’s relatives, but it isn’t as if they’re coming to protest. It’s a day of love.”

  “I know that. I’m just still…nervous.”

  “Skyler, you aren’t going to take a runner, are you?”

  “No…”

  “Because Keith is way better looking than Richard Gere, and you, sir, are no Julia Roberts.”

  “I’m not going to leave him at the altar. I swear.”

  “You’d better not. That would spell the end of Keith and Skyler and we cannot have that.”

  “No, we can’t. It’s just… the commitment thing. The…finality of it.”

  “Oh good grief. Stop clutching your pearls. You’ve already committed to him, haven’t you? And it isn’t the end. It’s the beginning.”