Devil Smoke (23 page)

“And we’re doing our best. TK and Wash are still piecing together her past. When we have something, we’ll send it to you.”

“Send me everything you have.”

He hung up before she could tell him about Charlotte’s extracurricular activities with the shelter. Lucy considered calling him back, but decided to wait until she had something more concrete. After all, according to Burroughs, she was a fumbling amateur and he already had his man.

AS TOMMY DROVE
Route 51 south past suburbs and strip malls, storm clouds glowered from the sky overhead. When he reached the turnoff for two-lane road that corkscrewed its way up the mountain to his in-laws’ house, the first drops of rain began.

He made his final turn and steered Charlotte’s Pathfinder up their driveway. Their house was modern, all glass and timber, perched in the center of a clearing near the top of the mountain. The fields around it were either fenced in for the horses’ grazing or seeded with wildflowers, with a sturdy metal-roofed barn a short walk down from the house.

By the time he ran up the flagstone path to the front door, the rain had drenched his clothing and doused most of his anger. Peter opened the door and stood on the threshold as if considering refusing Tommy entrance.

“We need to talk,” Tommy said, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. As if he actually had any answers to this insanity that had devoured his life. “Where’s Nellie?”

Peter nodded past Tommy’s shoulder. “In the barn with Gloria.”

“Good. She doesn’t need to hear this.”

Peter considered that, then finally stood aside to allow Tommy to enter.

The foyer followed modern angles, sweeping up two stories to the roof, and opened onto the dining room and behind it the kitchen to the right. On the left was a wall that soared up to the ceiling, creating a dramatic archway into the living room. An open staircase led to a loft that ran along the back wall, overlooking the living room to the left and leading to the hall to the bedrooms on the right. Rain slashed at the foyer windows, casting strange shadows against the light oak floors as if beasts swarmed in the storm outside.

Tommy wiped his shoes on the mat and followed Peter into the living room, where a fire was going. When he’d left with Burroughs earlier he’d left his jacket behind, and now with his shirt soaked through he was shivering. He didn’t bother with one of the comfortable leather club chairs or the couch, but instead sank down right on the stone hearth, the fire’s warmth at his back.

Beside him stood a large armoire—no, Gloria insisted on calling it a “chifferobe” because it could hold hanging clothes inside its vast expanse. She collected big heavy pieces like that, loved to paint them with folksy designs then partially strip the paint to make them look battered and older than they actually were. Given how expensive the damn things were, he’d never understood that, but Charlotte said it was because all he cared about in furniture was how comfortable it was for napping.

Peter regarded him with a stony stare. “I know you’re angry…”

Tommy shook himself from his distracted musing about Gloria’s decor. It took an effort to focus—he was just so damn tired of everything. And everyone. Burroughs. His in-laws. Everyone. “I was. I am. That was a lousy thing to do.” Peter opened his mouth but Tommy raised his hand. “But I know why you did it. You’re worried about Nellie. So am I. This is going to get bad, Peter. We need to protect her.”

“Then why are you here?” Peter poured himself a drink at the bar that separated the den from the kitchen, then raised a glass in question to Tommy, who shook his head. “We just calmed her down. She’s only going to get upset again if she sees you.”

Tommy was silent for a long moment. The heat of the fire crackled at his back while Peter’s chilly countenance measured him from across the room. He finally looked up and said, “I’m here because she’s my daughter and I made her a promise.”

“This is bigger than a promise,” Peter said, lowering his body into one of the chairs facing the fire. His face sank and he stared into his whiskey, the glow from the fire etching new lines Tommy hadn’t noticed before. “Even if you’re innocent,” Tommy didn’t waste energy on protesting, “we still need to prepare for the worst.”

“Which means Nellie needs to stay with you and Gloria.” Because on the list of worst-case scenarios, Nellie watching the cops haul him away in handcuffs was near the top.

“So I’ll ask again: Why are you here, Tommy?”

“To say goodbye.” A sigh heaved Tommy’s shoulders. “I don’t know what the cops think they have, but it isn’t enough for them to arrest me. Yet.” The words left the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. “All I’m asking for is one night. Time to give Nellie a memory, something she can hold on to.”

Before Peter could answer, the back door opened, releasing a blast of rain and cold air along with the whirlwind of energy that was Nellie. She raced through the kitchen and tumbled into Tommy’s arms, almost knocking him into the fire. “Daddy’s here!”

Gloria followed in Nellie’s wake, a towel in her hand. “Nellie, leave your father be. We need to get you dried off and clean up the mud you tracked in.”

Nellie bounced on Tommy’s lap before facing forward. “Daddy’s here. Now we can go to Pizza Joe’s.”

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” Gloria said, her face uncertain as she glanced from Tommy to Peter.

“But you promised. You said if I was a good girl we could go to Pizza Joe’s, and I was a good girl, wasn’t I, Papa?”

“Yes, but that was before the rain,” Peter said. “We’ll do Pizza Joe’s tomorrow night. Tonight we’ll eat here. All of us. As a family.”

Nellie shook her head. “No. That’s not fair.” She twisted in Tommy’s lap to clap her palms on either side of his face, shutting out the rest of the world. “You’ll take me, won’t you, Daddy? I was a good girl, and you shouldn’t ever break a promise, right?”

Her face was so close that their foreheads almost touched. Those eyes. Exactly like her mother’s. Same with the determined, never-surrender twist of her lips.

He stood, taking her with him, sliding her weight to sit on one hip, despite the fact that she was getting too big to carry for long. “I can’t argue with that. A promise is a promise.”

“But Tommy—” Gloria gestured to the rain, although Tommy knew that wasn’t really what she was protesting.

“Special father-daughter dinner at Pizza Joe’s,” he said. “Then it’s back here, where you will be a good girl and listen to your Papa and Gramma. Deal?”

Nellie squinched her face in consideration. “Are you coming back here, too?”

“No. Daddy’s going to be busy. So I’ll need you to be a big girl and help your grandparents out here.”

“Like with the horses?” From the spark in her eye, it was clear that idea held some appeal.

“Exactly. And I’ll come when I can. Deal?”

She scrutinized him. “Deal. After you take me to Pizza Joe’s.” Her negotiations finalized, she hopped down and squeezed his hand in hers. “Let’s go.”

TOMMY NAVIGATED THE
Pathfinder down the mountain switchbacks, fighting to steer through the rain and fog and wishing he’d never agreed to take Nellie to dinner. But if things went wrong and the police decided to arrest him, then this might be his last chance to have a father-daughter outing with her for a long, long time. Even if he wasn’t arrested, the press would still be hounding him, and he needed Nellie safe from that.

“Shit,” he muttered, ratcheting the SUV’s headlights to high beams, trying to see through the rain and mist.

“Daddy, you said a bad word,” Nellie sang out from the back seat.

It wasn’t yet five o’clock, but the entire sky was a wash of black and gray, and even the high beams dimmed to a wavering silver. His stomach knotted as he made the next hairpin turn, water splashing up both sides of the SUV, high enough to spray against the windows.

“Daddy, I don’t like this. I’m scared.” Nellie’s voice sounded close to breaking.

“It’s okay,” Tommy told her, using the falsely bright tone he’d adopted all day. As if he were fooling anyone—least of all Nellie. “Pretend we’re at the car wash. You like riding through the car wash.”

She said nothing, and when he glanced in the rearview mirror her face was scrunched up into its “there’s no such things as monsters under the bed” grimace. Before he could think of anything more consoling to say, a blinding light stabbed his eyes, reflected by the rearview mirror. He hit the mirror, deflecting the glare, but the light was still bright enough to flood the interior of the car.

Another SUV, right on their rear bumper. And it didn’t seem to be slowing. Tommy gingerly sped up, but even the all-wheel drive lost control in the standing water. When the road opened up to allow a passing lane for a short distance, he steered to the right-hand lane and put on his four-ways, hoping the car would pass, but it stayed glued to the Pathfinder’s back end.

Why’d Gloria and Peter have to live so far out of town anyway? He clamped down on the steering wheel and hunched forward to peer through the darkness. Anger surged through him as the car continued to tailgate. He debated pulling over, but the shoulder was too narrow and it was just as likely that if he braked suddenly the car behind him would hit them.

“Daddy?” Nellie’s voice was tentative, as if she wasn’t sure she really wanted to say anything.

“Hush, sweetie. Daddy needs to concentrate.”

“That car behind us is really close.”

“I know. Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” Could he come up with words more absent of comfort? Reminded him of all the empty handshakes and hugs and advice he’d gotten after Charlotte. Don’t worry, be happy. You’ll get over this. As if losing the love of his life was something he wanted to “get over.”

The Pathfinder skidded, hydroplaning as he braked for a curve. He steered furiously, trying to keep the car on the road and avoid the sheer drop to the right. The erratic movement must have surprised the driver behind him into braking. For a moment, as the headlights faded back to a safe distance, Tommy dared to wonder if maybe the driver was simply lost and following his taillights in the dark and fog.

They entered a short straightaway, and his hopes were instantly dashed. The car behind them didn’t just speed back into position, it moved aggressively, giving their bumper a tap. Not enough to send Tommy out of control, but enough to knock his teeth together and force him to speed up. Rain slashed at them in a continuous drumbeat that drowned out the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears.

Another love tap. Tommy cursed, was half tempted to hit the brakes and let the driver behind him see what a real impact felt like. But not with Nellie in the car. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice barely quavered.

“Good girl.” He gingerly pressed the accelerator as they came out of another curve. “We’re almost there.”

“Okay.”

The driver behind them must have known the road as well as Tommy did, must have realized this was his last chance before they reached civilization. The car surged forward, its lights filling Tommy’s vision from every mirror, and pulled alongside, crossing the center line, forcing Tommy to steer onto the narrow shoulder.

“Hang on!”

“Daddy!”

The Pathfinder somehow found traction on the mud-slicked gravel berm. Tommy braked hard, expecting the other car to whiz past, but instead the driver steered toward them once more. Tommy reflexively pulled the wheel to steer them farther off the road, even though there was nowhere left to go. Sparks flew and there was the sound of metal screeching as the guardrail and car met on Nellie’s side.

The other SUV finally sped past, sending a wave of water crashing against Tommy’s windshield. There was no hope of spotting a license plate—Tommy was too focused on steering the car away from the guardrail without skidding out of control. His breath caught and everything slowed to a crawl as he wrenched the steering wheel, and finally, blessedly, they came to a stop, half on the road and half on the shoulder.

“Nellie,” he called out, yanking off his seat belt and twisting around in his seat. “Are you okay?”

He reached over the middle console, straining to get back to her. Her face was pale, ghostly. Even her lips had lost their color, and her breath was coming fast. Tears streaked her cheeks. But she met his eyes and nodded.

He grabbed her foot, the only part of her he could reach, and squeezed. “Good girl. You were great. It’s okay. Everything is going to be all right. That car’s gone. It’s all right.”

Was he talking to comfort himself, or her? He couldn’t tell. But the color slowly returned to her face. The tears didn’t stop though. Best thing was to get her out of here as soon as possible, get her back to the farm.

It was too dangerous to make a three-point turn on the mountain road, but the highway was just a half a mile ahead and he could turn around in the shopping center at the foot of the mountain. He climbed back into his seat and refastened his seat belt. “Okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He pulled the car forward, testing the steering to make sure nothing had been damaged by going off the road. It handled okay, although the front end was definitely out of alignment. There was no sign of anyone else on the road, and soon he could just make out the traffic light up ahead, signaling Route 51, a busy four-lane highway.

“We’ll do Pizza Joe’s another night. Let’s go back to the farm for dinner.” Despite the sudden change of plans, Nellie didn’t argue, merely nodded in the rearview—a sure sign of exactly how scared she was. He didn’t blame her; his own hands were trembling and sweat had plastered his shirt against his skin.

The rain was slowing, thank goodness. As he approached the traffic light it turned red. He got into the left-hand turn lane and waited. There was a large mall across the street, with a cinema, and a crowd of people was gathered under the main entrance, watching the storm. Tommy began to relax. There were people all around; they were safe now.