Nick turned to Julie and smiled. “Well, honey, it looks like you’ll be staying.”
It was almost midnight when Ed Tolliver finally rolled into bed. After getting the news about Carl and Katherine Rutherford, he’d had a hard time getting to sleep. Even with a team of agents protecting his home, he still felt uneasy. He’d been briefed about the Russian assassin and knew how dangerous the man could be, but he refused to go to a safe house across town, so they brought the protection to him. His cell phone chirped in the kitchen and he peeked over at his wife to make certain she didn’t wake. He hopped out of bed and scrambled down the hallway to get to the phone before it woke the kids.
FBI agent Rolley Chandler was already standing at the counter with Ed’s phone in his hand. Chandler studied the display for a moment, then frowned and handed it to Tolliver.
“Private caller,” Chandler said, looking disappointed.
Tolliver took the phone and headed into the guest bedroom on the opposite side of the house from his family’s bedrooms. He didn’t mind his fellow agents protecting him, but he didn’t like certain areas of his life intruded upon. Under any circumstance.
“This is Ed,” Tolliver said in a near whisper.
“Hi,” came the female voice.
Tolliver froze. He immediately glanced out into the hallway, then closed the bedroom door and sat on the guest bed.
“What are you doing?” he said in a hushed tone.
Vicki Peters sounded nervous. “I uh … needed to talk.”
“Are you crazy?” he said. “Don’t you know what time it is?”
“Yes, I know.”
Tolliver’s head began to pound. He rubbed his temple. “Listen,” he said, “now’s not the time for this. Don’t ever do this to me again.”
There was a pause, then, “It’s over Ed,” she said. Her voice was shaky and seemed genuinely upset.
“What?” Tolliver’s voice pitched an octave higher than normal. “What do you mean? I thought we agreed,” he said, groping for the right words. “The twins are gone in two months. That’s just sixty days. You mean you can’t wait sixty days?”
“No, Ed, I can’t wait sixty minutes,” she said with a little ugliness to her tone.
Tolliver couldn’t believe this was happening. He moved even farther away from the door and placed a pillow to his cheek covering up his phone and drowning out his voice from eavesdroppers. “C’mon now, Vicki, what’s going on? Why now?”
“Because,” she said, “I’ve met someone else.”
Now Tolliver’s heart began to thump irregularly. “What? Are you kidding? When?”
“A few weeks ago,” she said. “I just can’t wait any longer, Ed. I’ve done it for too long.”
“But … but,” Tolliver didn’t know what to say. He had been completely blindsided. “Let’s talk about this, okay?”
“Sorry,” she said, “when you say let’s talk about it, you mean next week or tomorrow. My tomorrows are going to belong to someone else. Someone who deserves my tomorrows.”
“Oh, come on, you sound like you’ve been reading a Maya Angelo novel.” Tolliver glanced at the door. He was pretty sure agent Chandler would have his back if the wife suddenly woke up. “Let’s get together for lunch and-”
“No,” she said. “No more. I’m going to go now.”
“Wait.” Tolliver stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Wait, baby, please. I’ll meet you …” he noticed the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:47. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“In thirty one minutes you’ll be too late.”
Tolliver put the phone down from his ear and stood there in the dark. His life was falling apart. Someone wanted him dead and his lover wanted to leave him. His foot tapped involuntarily; he was thinking about how to work it out.
Vicki Peters pushed the end button, then handed her phone to the man next to her. She was trembling. The man had already sliced open her beagle, Josie, leaving her on the dining room table with her guts heaped in a pile next to her. The man had forced her to look at Josie during the entire phone conversation. Blood had begun to spread across the table and drip over the side onto the tile floor. Vicki had already vomited twice and was about to purge again. She gripped her stomach in agony.
“Good girl,” the man said. “You did exactly as I asked you.”
“Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “Please let me go now. You promised.”
He looked down with a serious expression, as if considering his options. When his head came up, the knife came with it. She didn’t even have time to scream.
Chapter 15
Nick woke to a jab in his side. He moved and grimaced from the sudden pain in his shoulder. He looked up to a familiar shadow over him.
“Let’s go,” Matt said.
Nick wiped his eyes, then saw the time. 5:19 A.M..
Matt left, leaving the door open and the living room light beaming into the bedroom. Nick forced his weight forward and pushed off with his good arm. When his legs were planted on the floor, he glanced over to check on Julie. She was still in a deep sleep. He threw on a pair of sweatpants and tee shirt before heading into the other room, quietly closing the door behind him.
Matt waited for him in the living room, standing in front of the television.
“Look at this shit,” Matt said with his arms folded and nodding at the television.
A local male news reporter stood in front of the charred remnants of a house. Smoke drifted over the embers while a firefighter’s hose maintained a steady stream of water. The only thing left standing was the rock chimney. It was still an hour before sunrise so tiny flickers of flame stood out in the dark.
The man was scanning his notes on a sheet of paper while reporting the facts of the story.
“At 4:05 this morning there was an explosion here at twelve-fifteen Fallen Rock Road, the home of Maggie and Devon Grabowski.”
Nick felt his throat tighten as a picture of an elderly couple filled the screen. The reporter spoke over the image. “We don’t have any confirmation yet, but all indications are the Grabowski’s were inside their home when the explosion occurred. Firefighters said they were able to maintain the integrity of the tree line around the building and prevent the spread of a forest fire.”
Matt grumbled something.
Nick said, “They were the first couple to welcome us to Payson when we bought this place,” as bile pushed its way up into his esophagus.
“Apparently a neighbor heard the blast,” the reporter said, “and ran outside to see what had happened.” The reporter came into view again as a small woman with a pink sweatshirt came into the picture, still appearing startled.
The reporter stuck the microphone in front of the woman and said, “Can you tell us what you saw?”
“Well,” the woman said, “I heard the explosion and it was so close I thought it was our house that got hit. Then I went outside I saw the Grabowski’s place in flames.” She looked up. “They were up over the tops of those trees,” she said. “It’s a miracle the whole street didn’t catch fire.”
“And did you see anyone or hear anything when you first came outside?”
“No, I didn’t see a thing. Just …” the woman seemed to realize what had just occurred and she appeared to be struggling to gather herself. Of course the reporter went in for the kill.
“Did you know the Grabowski’s very well?”
The woman put her hand over her mouth and looked back at the crumbled ruins behind them. “Yes,” her voice cracked through her fingers.
The reporter must’ve realized the line he’d just crossed and looked genuinely concerned. He gazed back at the camera as a cue to phase out the grieving woman.
“Well, there’s certainly a lot of pain being felt by the community here in Payson.” The reporter’s face now filled the screen. “Authorities are hesitant to say the exact …”
The report went on but Nick’s stomach wasn’t up for it. He reached down to get the remote and Matt grabbed his hand.