a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure) (14 page)

She was right. The layout of the roads and houses was like a maze with no beginning and no end.

 
"Her driveway is right up there," I pointed in the general direction of the dirt road.
 

Pierce turned left, leaving the pavement behind, and we bounced along for several minutes before I spotted the backhoe….and nothing else. "Can’t be the right place, can it?" I leaned forward to peer around Annie.
 

Pierce sucked in a breath so fast it whistled. "Yeah, it can."
 

The backhoe reached into the earth and clawed a shovel full of dirt from my grandmother’s grave.

Twelve

I scrambled out of the
Jeep and ran toward the backhoe. Annie grabbed my t-shirt, lost her grip and I sprawled in the grass, breathing in the rich scent of tropical dirt. The same dirt that had covered Grandma’s coffin.
 

My hands clenched fistfuls of grass, and despair pummeled what was left of my heart. For the first time, I noticed the men in military uniforms who were lifting the coffin from the ground, red dirt clinging to the bare wooden box that held my grandmother’s remains. Tears blurred the scene. I didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to watch them drive away with Grandma.
 

Anger burned, acid sharp, in my gut.
 

How. Dare. They.
 

I stuffed my shriek of rage into the deepest, darkest corner of my psyche, and encased it in grief. These people might work for Pierce, but that didn’t make it right. Far from it. For the first time since I’d met him, hatred warred with the respect I had for his morals and abilities.
 

I shut my eyes, buried my head in the grass, and pounded the earth with my fists. It helped until pollen clogged my nose, tickled my throat, and sent me into a sneezing fit. Messy. Tears and a stupid runny nose. I wiped the bottom of my t-shirt over my face, trying to clean up the worst of it.
 

Pierce pulled me to my feet, and tucked me hard against him. "Sorry. Didn’t know they were going to dismantle the house first."

What? I plowed my fist into his chest, and was rewarded with a satisfying grunt. He tightened his grip on me, hands biting into my arms. A new wave of panic sliced through me, and I darted a quick look at the house. More uniformed men. This group was wielding tools, stacking the boards that used to be Grandma’s house into the back of an olive green truck. I wouldn’t be able to touch the wood again, to refresh the images of her standing on the porch and rocking in her…my heart ached as I watched them load the rocking chair onto the truck.
 

I jerked free from Pierce’s hold, twisting away. Too fast. I Stumbled. Pierce caught me, and tried to keep me from turning toward the grave, but I wrenched free. Bad timing. Grandma’s coffin was being loaded into a van. "They’re t-taking g-grandma. W-where?" Swallowed sobs made my breath choppy, my words rough.

Annie offered me a handful of tissues. "Our crime scene techs are planning to go over every fiber of the house, and they’re moving everything to a secure location, so they’ll have more control over the testing. I’m sorry. I didn’t think they’d do this until tomorrow, after the disinterment."

 
I blew my nose, then stuffed the wad of damp tissue into my pocket. Our? Annie had said our crime scene techs
.
She knew, maybe even helped plan the desecration of Grandma’s life. Dry heaves caught in my throat, burning away the horrible words I wanted to throw at her. Had Annie betrayed our friendship? My legs collapsed and I dropped to my knees, clutching at the tall grass.
 

Get a grip, Everly. You
knew
this was going to happen. They warned you, tried to protect you from it.
 

Pierce stood twenty feet away, talking to one of the soldiers, handing them something. Probably showing ID. Doing his job. A red haze crept in around the edges of my vision. So, "seeing red" really happened. Agonizingly painful. I sucked in air, pulling on what little calm I could collect from the rational part of my mind. "There’s a guard." I scanned the area. "More than one."
 

Annie herded me toward the Jeep. "Yeah, apparently the schedule was altered without keeping Pierce in the loop. Big mistake."
 

"Why? I mean, according to Pierce, the military doesn’t like him, so why would he trust them to move Grandma? If this is his case, surely he had to make the arrangements."
 

Annie wrapped me in a hug. "We work together when we have to. The medical examination will be done by the people Pierce and I work with. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and I am so, so sorry. Come on, I need to get you away from here." She tugged on my sleeve.

I inhaled, consciously stiffening my spine. This situation was bigger than my grief. Definitely bigger than my anger. Anger was born from fear. I knew that, and often taught my clients how to use the knowledge behind their anger to heal. I was afraid for so many reasons. Not knowing what my mother had done, responsibility for any potential wars that could erupt from her actions, not being able to protect my grandmother, and not being able to find my grandfather.
 

My fears commanded a long list, and heading it was doubt that I had the skill to make it right. Knowing all that calmed my anger some, but it didn’t stop my tears. I mopped my face with the sleeve of my t-shirt, soaking it. The fabric clung to my arm, cold in the late morning sunlight. It matched the chill invading my heart.

Flames leapt from the ground where my grandmother’s house used to stand, the scent of burning wood and flashes of heat swirled around me. "Damn it all!" My anger erupted. "They’re burning the foundation."

Pierce bumped against my side, effectively sandwiching me between him and Annie. The skin around his mouth was white-tight, and his eyes flashed blue fire. "Need to get El away from here."

 
"Why did they burn Grandma’s house? Dismantling I can understand…actually, no, I can’t but—"
 

"
They
didn’t." Pierce’s words battered the air.

"If
they
didn’t, then
who
did? If anything in her house had been connected to the toxin or the formula, we would have found it yesterday…" I shut up, not ready to explain that, according to a Nordstrom catalog, my grandmother hadn’t lived there for a year, give or take, so any plant material probably would have long since rotted into harmless bits of nothing.

When we got to the Jeep, I turned, wanting one last look, but Pierce lifted me, dropping me into the back seat with enough force to snap my jaw closed. "Gotta move."
 

Didn’t matter, I twisted around for a final look anyway. "Oh!" My hands flew to my face and I inhaled a deep breath, the lingering smell of burned wood irritating my nose. "It’s gone. Just gone. And there’s a huge hole where Grandma used to be."

Annie had made a call while Pierce hustled me into the Jeep, and was still talking when she climbed in the passenger seat. "Tomorrow you think?" she asked, focusing on the conversation. She glanced at me, and covered the phone "Sean’s flying in tonight."
 

I nodded, then shut both her and Pierce out of my head. It was time to get myself together and pursue a meeting with Kaulele. I needed to take control of this, and stop leaning on Annie and Pierce to solve my problems. It was my mother’s secret, and that made protecting it my responsibility. Not theirs. Not the government’s. Mine.

Annie moved into another phone conversation with barely a break, except that she’d turned away from me and was speaking softly.
 

Pierce glanced at the destruction in front of us, then hit me with a stare. "A.J. wants Sean to do an investigation of the burned-out rubble. You okay with that?"
 

"But this wasn’t arson." The quiver in my voice sounded like I’d passed my eightieth birthday. I tried again. "There might be traces of toxin left." I was almost sure there couldn't be, but I wasn't willing to bet anyone's life on it.
 

I blinked my tears away, pulling his features into focus. Blue granite stared at me. Pierce was one pissed off super spy.
 

"You didn’t order the burning, and since you don’t know what fire does to the toxin—"

His hand slashed through the air, cutting me off.
 

I shut up. The situation had become evil, and stiff spine, shoulders-braced-to-accept-the-responsibility aside, I wasn’t ready.
 

Another question popped up. "Is Sean good? He just finished his training."
 

"Yeah, he’s good. More important, he’s an unknown."
 

"How do you know he’s good? He hasn’t done anything yet. And why is being unknown a positive?" I sounded argumentative. Guess I hadn't completely tamed that last burst of anger yet.

Annie slipped her cell into her chinos. "Sean’s been working behind the scenes on arson cases for more than ten years. He didn’t want the official title because he enjoyed firefighting, but they’ve been pulling him into arson investigations whenever they have a tough case. Seems he has a gift for understanding fire, and the ability to sniff out chemical reactions. He finally went for the required training to make it official."
 

I stopped myself mid-nod. "Your nods are contagious," I said to Pierce, this time shaking my head.
 

He shook his head. Looked like he was tossing off some of his anger, and then he winked.
 

At least it wasn’t a nod. Maybe I’d forgive him.

"Thanks, Annie," I said, squeezing her hand. Maybe I’d forgive her, too. "Is it okay for Sean to work on this? With your boss, I mean?"
 

"Good to go." She shared some kind of silent communication with Pierce. "You know, this isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding. With both Sean and I working for…Pierce."
 

"Oh, damn, Annie. I’m sorry." I glanced at Pierce. "Maybe you can find someone else—"
 

"No," he growled. "Sean is perfect."
 

Annie wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "I want to be involved. So does Sean. Maybe it’s not how I imagined my wedding, but it’s definitely how I
should
have imagined it." She grinned. "My life is always like this. And I love you. Friends stick when things are tough."
 

Some of the pain around my heart eased. Friendship—powerful stuff. Things in my normal, boring existence had started to get dicey when I stopped hiding from life and jumped into the world of fighting crime. Not that I regretted that decision, but no one mentioned exactly how
much
things would change. Then again, I hadn’t asked.
 

 
"A blueprint would be handy right about now," I said.
 

"Huh?" Pierce slid his sunglasses down his nose and checked me out. Probably looking for uncontrollable twitches or a sudden loss of function.

"A blueprint of the house?" Annie asked.
 

"No. For life." I gestured toward the plot of land where the flames were dying. "Wonder if I should touch things after they’ve finished desecrating the property."

Annie shook her head, gave me another hug, and moved her arm back to her side. "Best to let Sean handle it."
 

"Call him back. Ask him…no, I need to talk to him myself."
 

Annie pulled out her phone, punched in a speed dial number, and handed it to me.
 

Sean made me promise not to touch anything until he’d had a chance to go over the site, and in return he promised to back me up when it was time to set my fingers loose on the charred remains.

"He said it’s okay, didn’t he?" Annie asked, taking her cell from me.

"Yep, but only after he’s finished. Why aren't any local law enforcement type people here? Surely someone called the fire department."
 

Annie’s face crinkled, surprised. "This belongs to Pierce. No local unit will come anywhere near his crime scene."

"I don’t get it. Surely the locals know there’s an investigation going on." I turned to look behind me, waving my hands around. I’d learned over the years that hand waving covered a multitude of situations when words just didn’t cut it.
 

Annie nodded. "Hawaiians look after their own. Noninterference might be their way of protecting your grandmother. In which case, we won’t find a single neighbor who’ll talk to us."
 

"But they might talk to me." Hope flared, and died as I took in the condition of my t-shirt. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t see my face.

My keepers did the silent communication thing again, then Annie shrugged. "She could be right."

Pierce nodded. Once.
 

Holy Mamma Mia. I was beginning to understand nod-speak, and that last one definitely meant I was on the right track. "So, you’re going to let me canvas the neighborhood? Alone?"
 

Identical appalled expressions. Amazing how they could do that.