Chapter 16 #2
Where are you?
Please call me!
He climbed out of the truck while he scrolled, his taut muscles relaxing.
No one was hurt. His mother was fine. His sister was fine.
His nephews were fine. He had no clue what fire they were talking about, and Mom and Zina would give him an earful for making them worry, but he didn’t mind.
Relief was like that. He was so happy everyone was okay, the idea of getting harassed by his mom and sister suddenly didn’t seem that annoying.
The last unread text he clicked on had been the first one to come in. It was short and to the point.
Call me. Now.
Kemper was never one to waste time on too many words.
He hadn’t spoken to Gary since his mom told him about Gary’s visit to her house.
He’d been too pissed off. Showing up at his mom’s house looking for Phillipe’s notebook was a dick move.
Aleksei had been waiting for his temper to cool before confronting Gary about it.
His blood still ran hot at the thought of Kemper dragging his mom into all of this, but Gary would know what the hell had gotten his mom and Zina all worked up.
Better to get the facts from Kemper before calling his family, in case he needed to do some spinning.
Kemper answered on the first ring. “Where the hell are you?”
“You first,” Aleksei retorted. “You owe me answers. What the hell were you doing at my mother’s house? I told you everything I had was in Philly, and you go to her goddamn house and try to bully her into giving you Phillipe’s notebook?”
Kemper sighed into the phone.
Aleksei had known Gary long enough that he could visualize the irritated head shake that came with that sigh.
Kemper was full of tells. He shook his head when he was exasperated.
He flicked his thumb when he lied. He squeezed his ear when he was desperate for a cigarette.
Aleksei heard footsteps through the phone, followed by the opening and closing of a door and then that all-too-familiar strike of a match—long inhale and exhale.
“No one could ever bully that woman, and you know it.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? There was no reason for you to go there. No reason to drag her into this.”
“But you went there, didn’t you? What reason did you have?”
Aleksei’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need a reason to visit my own mother.”
“Your accent gets heavier when you lie. Not a lot. But enough.”
His teeth pressed together even more tightly. Kemper had been the one who taught him to focus on body language, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Gary had discovered some of his own tells. “What are you getting at?”
Another inhale, exhale, and sigh of contentment.
“When we spoke Friday night, your accent got thicker when you were talking about the notebook, so I knew you were lying. I wasn’t sure if it was about whether you had the damn thing, where you were keeping Phillipe’s things, or something else—but I knew you weren’t telling me the whole truth.
You can’t get out of your own head, Thompson.
Ever since Phillipe died, you’ve made everything about you.
You’re obsessed with your own loss and blind to everything else and everybody else.
I know Phillipe was your best friend. I feel bad for you.
I really do. But I was the leader of that unit.
Phillipe was my responsibility. He was murdered on my watch. ”
Another inhale and exhale, and then Kemper’s voice was calmer, placating. It was the kind of voice you used when you explained something to a kid for the fourth time, trying not to lose your patience.
“I know you think I let brass sweep this under the rug, but I didn’t.
Unlike you, I didn’t go off half-cocked and quit the FBI.
I used my fucking brain and waited. That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time…
waiting until there was some kind of break.
This isn’t just your chance for redemption—it’s mine too.
And I’m not going to let you fuck it up by lying to me.
If you lie to me, I’m going to go around you.
You lied to me about the notebook, so I went around you. It’s that simple.”
Kemper’s words brought a hot blister of shame.
Gary had said the same thing Zina and his mom had been saying to him for the past two years.
The same thing Rosemary had said last Friday night.
He was letting his loss blind him to other people’s pain, blind him from seeing or understanding other perspectives.
What else has this whirlpool of grief kept me from seeing?
He pushed the thought away. This was not the time for psychoanalysis. He’d have to figure his shit out later.
“Fine. We’ll call a truce, but I need you to tell me what the hell is going on. My cell service has been shit since last night, and now I have a ton of frantic messages from my mom and sister. They said something about a fire.”
Kemper took another drag on his cigarette. A really long drag. Aleksei’s spine tensed.
“The shit hit the fan,” Kemper said.
“Not helpful,” Aleksei responded. “What shit? What fan?”
“Pannetone & Associates blew up. And so did your apartment.”
No preface. No warning. Gary had done nothing to soften the blow.
Aleksei leaned against the park office building, giving his body physical support so his mind could fully process the information. “Do you mean actually exploded?”
Kemper’s “yep” sounded like a grunt.
His apartment was gone. He hadn’t lived there in years, but it still felt like his home had been ripped away.
“Could the explosions have been accidental?”
He knew the answer even as he asked the question. The coincidence was too great. The chance of accidental explosions at both the accounting office and his apartment was fingernail-thin.
“The bomb techs confirmed explosive devices were present at both locations,” Kemper answered.
His home was gone. Rose’s workplace had been attacked.
Kemper was right. The shit had definitely hit the fan.
“When?”
“Pannetone’s office blew just before ten this morning. Your apartment went about an hour later.”
The first thing you did after an attack was assess the damage.
“Casualties?”
Kemper sighed. “I played your connection to the bureau, the link between Pannetone and Moresco, and our prior op to get the FBI to take jurisdiction. With two explosions, they were probably going to step in anyway, but I didn’t want to waste time and let the locals fuck it up.
Since I’m based in Chicago now, I’m not assigned to the case, but I was able to get some inside info.
Your apartment building was empty, but the investigators found three bodies at Pannetone’s: two male, one female.
All burned beyond recognition. There are six employees, and the only one the bureau located is the receptionist. She got lucky.
She was in the stairwell when the bomb went off.
She was injured, but it looks like she’s going to be OK.
She’s been in surgery, so no one’s talked to her yet.
They don’t know who the deceased female is. ”
Kemper’s voice trailed off, his last sentence a question. Aleksei knew what Gary was asking.
“It’s not Rosemary. She’s with me. She’s safe.”
“Thank God,” Kemper said. “With what the informant said about Moresco having her followed, I was worried she was the target.”
“Maybe she was. She told me her vacation was a last-minute thing, so maybe whoever planted the bomb expected her to be at work. We need to find out who the other survivor is. Maybe he’s behind this whole fiasco. What’s the initial read?”
Silence from Kemper.
“What’s the initial read?” Aleksei repeated.