Chapter 6
Hez poked his head into his new house’s observatory—and was instantly ten years old again. An enormous old-fashioned tarnished
brass telescope dominated the stuffy little octagonal space. A cracked leather chair sat beside it, and faded astronomical
charts covered the low walls. The floor was dusty plexiglass with some sort of design underneath. The ceiling was peaked and
supposed to be retractable. Light from a single dim bulb showed a large hand crank protruding from a gearbox.
Hez tried the crank, but it only moved a fraction of an inch. Of course. He sighed and opened the toolbox he’d lugged up with
him. He and Savannah had closed on the house yesterday, so it was finally theirs. He had promised to go over it from top to
bottom to get it ready, and he’d decided to start at the very top.
One of his father’s rules of home maintenance was “Ninety percent of all repairs require pliers, duct tape, or WD-40,” so Hez kept all three handy.
The pliers made short work of the rusty gearbox lid, and he applied WD-40 liberally to the interior.
He tried the crank again. The gears squealed in protest and started to move.
Hez got a good workout, but the eight sides of the roof slowly slid down into the walls, letting in the sunshine and very welcome fresh air.
He leaned against the shoulder-height wall and let the late-April breeze cool his sweaty face. Slate shingles sloped down
on each side of the roof, and he had a panoramic view of the horizon. The fake medieval tower stood like a sentinel about
ten yards from the house, watching over the blue waters of Mobile Bay, and he took in the expanse of water, treetops, boat
docks, and the occasional roof.
The bright spring sun showed the floor clearly: The plexiglass protected a giant mechanical star map that took up almost the
entire floor. Little knobs stuck out of the floor beside one wall, allowing the map to be adjusted for date and time. The
floor of the observatory would be a perfectly labeled guide to the sky above. “Simon is going to love this.”
The thought of his nephew brought a pang. Would Simon even see this? The lawyer Hez talked to hadn’t held out much hope. Under
Alabama law, if the father objected to an adoption, the court had no choice but to deny it. Their only hope was to terminate
Erik’s parental rights, and that would not be easy. Their only real chance would be to get him convicted and imprisoned for
a felony—and he hadn’t even been arrested for anything. Hez hoped to change that, and yesterday he’d put in a call to his
old mentee at the DA’s office, Deputy District Attorney Hope Norcross, now one of the office’s go-to prosecutors for major
crimes.
As if on cue, his phone rang and Hope’s name appeared. Hez’s pulse picked up as he took the call. “Hey, Hope. I didn’t expect
to hear from you so soon. Did you arrest Andersen?”
“No, but I’ll let you know if we do. I’m actually calling about something else. We’ve run into a dead end in our investigation of Jess’s murder, and I was hoping you might be able to help.”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“Key evidence seems to be missing. We have what’s left of your car, but that’s about it. No testable explosive residue and
very few bomb fragments. There were a lot more at the crime scene, but they vanished somewhere between there and Pelican Harbor
PD’s evidence locker.”
Hez groaned. “I thought you were using state police because of the problems in the PHPD.”
“We are. But this came in as a 911 call, so it went straight to first responders, including PHPD. Plus, there was no mention
of the smuggling ring, of course. No one connected the dots and alerted my team for almost two hours. And I don’t blame them
under the circumstances.”
Hez winced at her defensive tone. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to blame them—or you either. It’s just . . . frustrating.”
“I’m frustrated too. There are a lot of good Pelican Harbor cops, and I hate having to freeze them out of a big investigation
in their backyard. Hopefully we’ll find the mole soon and be able to go back to business as usual.” She sighed. “Anyway, I
was wondering whether you remembered anything that might be useful from the immediate aftermath of the explosion. Did you
see any forensic techs acting strangely? Do you remember which officers put evidence in their cars? Anything like that?”
Hez gazed out at the hazy horizon but didn’t really see it.
He remembered sitting at his little plywood desk in the Justice Chamber, chewing over his last conversation with Jess.
A distant boom had rattled the windows and shaken the room.
Then he had been running, dodging confused students and professors as he raced from Connor Hall to the faculty parking lot.
He’d seen Savannah kneeling in the grass near the flaming wreck of his Audi. She’d been covered in blood, rocking back and
forth, her wails mingling with those of the approaching sirens. Then he’d been on his knees beside her, holding her as the
scents of acrid smoke and coppery blood assaulted his nose.
Savannah had clutched Jess’s mangled corpse, whose sightless, glassy blue eyes stared at the sky—just like Ella’s had as Hez
held her three and a half years ago.
He made an effort to steady himself. “Sorry, no. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything except Savannah and Jess.”
“That’s what I guessed. I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, though. I’ll give Savannah a call too. And Hez—” Hope hesitated.
“Stay safe.”
His shoulders tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I have a little news on our old friend James Hornbrook.”
“What?”
“He’s staying in countries that don’t have extradition treaties with us, but we’re keeping tabs on him when we can. He’s continuing
to make comments about you that could be construed as threats.”
“Like what?”
“Like that he’d love to dance on your grave.”
Hez grimaced. “I’ll grab his ankle and pull him down to join me if he tries.”
Hope chuckled. “And we’d arrest him before he reached the cemetery dance floor. There’s more: He’s sent significant amounts of money to offshore accounts connected to organized crime, and he’s been communicating with someone in the US. He’s being careful about security, so we don’t know who it is.”
“You think he’s coming up with plan B after the attack on Bruno and me failed?”
“That’s our best guess, but we don’t have any details.”
“Okay. Thanks for the warning.”
He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. Hope’s news wasn’t a surprise, but it did make the skin on the back
of his neck crawl. He had cost Hornbrook and his company, Hornbrook Finance, tens of millions of dollars. Maybe hundreds of
millions. Of course Hornbrook wanted to kill him. Guys like that didn’t just walk away from a big loss. The dead man’s switch
would keep Hez safe—for now. But how long would it be before Hornbrook found a way around it?
Savannah sighed contentedly at the sight of the swath of pale blue paint on their new master bedroom’s accent wall.
It was perfect against the creamy white paint on the other walls.
It blended with the water just outside the window, though she couldn’t hear the waves over the leaf blower Hez’s cousin Blake Lawson was using in the backyard.
“Hez, it’s so tranquil. It makes me think of Jamaica.
Wait until you see the print I found to put above the headboard.
” Her smile faltered. “Is it wrong to feel so happy right now? My sister is still dead, we’re facing a formidable battle with Erik, and Hornbrook wants to do the twist on your grave. ”
He put the roller back in the tray and opened his arms to hold her. He didn’t have to say anything—the steady beat of his
heart was enough reassurance. They were together, and their love was strong. They’d already been through so much, and God
had made sure they were still standing. Together they could weather anything—couldn’t they?
“I’m happy too,” he murmured against her hair. “We’ve faced tough odds in the past, and we’ll get through all of this. And
hey, we found the perfect house. It even has an attached nursery.”
She pulled back to be able to see his expression. His clear blue eyes held no clouds, only love and confidence. Thankfulness
settled in her chest at the wonder of how they’d found each other again. “I want a baby right away.”
“Me too. Though I’ll admit to a bit of terror at the thought of a newborn. Remember how Ella used to be up all night? We would
take turns trying to keep our eyes pried open.”
She could almost smell that unmistakable scent of a new baby’s head. Her arms ached to hold a little one again, and the longing
for Ella grew and spread through her chest with a weight that took the air out of her lungs. “I—I think it will be hard, Hez.
We’ll miss Ella all the more with a new baby in the house.” She touched the best friends bracelet Nora had given her and rolled
the beads between her fingers.
“We’ll never forget our little girl, but maybe a baby will help heal the wounds that are still bleeding.” He palmed her face
and leaned in for a kiss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and the familiar passion sparked between them. It was tempting to forget they weren’t married yet. She sighed and pulled away. “Whose idea was it to put off the marriage anyway?”
“That was all you, babe. I was ready to put that ring back on your finger and start trying for that baby right away.”
Her cheeks heated at his raised eyebrow. “It was the right thing to do. We’ve been able to work through any lingering issues.
We can start our marriage on fresh footing.”
“Maybe so, but I’m regretting that decision about now.” He gave a rueful grin and picked up the paint roller. “I guess I’d
better get back to work. Simon should be along any minute too.”
She turned for the door. “Oh right. I want to meet the school bus so the driver knows we’re here. It’s Simon’s first time
being dropped at the new place.”