Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Kain
Inside my office at the conference table, I discussed Francisco’s body parts with the boys. “Detective McNally confirmed the DNA from the Boston Harbor Hotel belonged to Francisco.”
“If he’s Hawthorne’s man, then why did Hawthorne send the parts to each of us rather than dumping his body along with the senator’s niece?” Godfrey asked. “Makes no sense.”
“They’re trying to confuse us,” Hudson added.
“Did Francisco break a rule that got him killed?” Timber asked.
“Maybe the murderer is sending us a warning with Francisco’s body parts.” I briefed them on the threat I received in Ozarrow Woods.
“Fuck!” Godfrey bolted from his seat, pacing my office. “It has to be Hawthorne.”
“The timing is odd,” Hudson mused, twirling a pen between his fingers. “Why now?”
“Something must have triggered his appearance.” Timber picked up a white porcelain bowl with succulents and flowering plants at the center of the table. Eva had made it the other day.
“How did he survive the explosion?” Hudson asked.
“Maybe he got tipped off?” Godfrey sat back down.
“The only people who knew about my plan were me and Razor. I don’t think he alerted Hawthorne.
Razor wanted to escape too.” He had helped me from the beginning, so why would he inform Hawthorne?
“Maybe one of his men caught me and Razor discussing something. Doesn’t matter. Hawthorne is alive, and he’s after me.”
“No,” Godfrey said firmly, meeting my eyes. “He’s after us.” He looked around at the boys. “Anyone who targets you is targeting all of us.”
“He’s right.” Hudson clenched a fist. “We’re ready for the fucker. We’re not helpless young boys anymore.”
“Maybe Andrew knows about Francisco?” Godfrey asked.
“We’ll ask him when we meet him next week,” I said, remembering his text informing me about his new assignment.
“Time to review our plans,” Timber said.
Even though we all thought Hawthorne had died, each of us had a plan in motion if someone like him emerged one day.
This world was a cruel and dark place. In order to survive, we had to anticipate and prepare for the worst. Being prepared was part of our healing process, but so was vengeance.
The data I’d taken from Hawthorne’s files proved to be useful now.
An hour later, the boys left, and I drove to Watertown, hoping to speak to someone from Bingo Delivery.
I drove down an industrial street with several brick buildings.
I spotted the sign for Bingo Delivery, parked my car in front of a tire warehouse, and walked over to the small building with a white awning and one loading dock on the side.
No cars were parked in the lot. I walked up to the office, but it was locked.
There were no office hours posted on the door, only the phone number, which was the same as the one posted on their crappy website.
I dialed the number, and the voicemail stated the office was closed for three weeks for renovations. I didn’t see any company trucks or vans in the lot. Perhaps they were parked inside the warehouse. Something was up with this business. How did it connect to Hawthorne?
As I drove back to Brookline, I saw Eva’s grandfather walking by a park with a man wearing a jacket over sweatpants.
Grandpa Collins wore a long-sleeved knit T-shirt, a pair of cargo pants, and a paperboy hat.
The other man looked younger and taller than Grandpa Collins.
When they rounded the corner, I noticed the man’s jacket sported the words Bingo Delivery.
I followed them in my SUV and watched as the two men chatted.
Who was this man? At a glance, he appeared to be in his late fifties.
Was he an employee of Bingo Delivery? If he wasn’t, maybe a family member gave him the jacket.
I’d been wanting to confront Eva’s grandfather with questions but hadn’t had time. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. My dinner with Eva wouldn’t be for another couple of hours. I continued spying on the men, waiting to get Eva’s grandfather alone.