“You haven’t. You won’t.” She smiled. “I’m an Ashburn.”
Her brother’s stare returned to her and he nodded gravely. “That you are. Through and through.”
As they hugged again, Anne was aware of an uncoiling deep inside of her, that anger that had defined her for so long shattering like a mirror and dissipating. Growing up, all she had ever wanted was her father’s respect.
It turned out that destiny gave her something even better, more worthwhile.
She had earned her big brother’s.
In the periphery, Anne was aware of Danny sitting back and watching the pair of them, the smile on his face wide and approving.
When Tom reached out a palm toward him, Danny shook what was offered, a vow given and accepted on both sides: In the midst of chaos and death, a new family had been forged. One that was chosen as opposed to an accident of biology—and for that reason, more abiding and enduring.
Chapter 54
One week later, Anne left her office on a long lunch break. Don was going to watch Soot, who had become the investigation team’s mascot, and she had a feeling “watch” meant her boss was going to take the dog down the street to the deli and the two of them were going to share a turkey, cheese, and mayo foot-long and two bags of potato chips.
No wonder Soot also thought that man was the World’s Greatest Boss.
The strip mall that was her destination was nothing she had been to before, although she had driven by it plenty of times, and she found a parking space easy enough. She was early and the noontime sun was still fairly warm, so she took a leisurely stroll past the stores.
The fallout around Moose’s death was sad. His body was being buried, but not with departmental honors. How could it be? He had endangered the lives of his fellow firefighters. Committed arson. Tried to kill her.
The investigation into his crimes had expanded to include the FBI, given the interstate nature of Ollie Popper’s black-market activity. An LG burner phone had been found inside Moose’s house, and the calls to her cell had been in its outgoing log. An anonymous texting app, TextPort, was the only thing loaded onto it.
The money trail was cold. There had been just over five thousand dollars in cash in Moose’s bedroom, but no clues so far on where it had come from. And as for Ripkin? That tie had not been exposed, but she still believed it was there. Moose’s spending had far exceeded a random thousand here or there.
And that was why she truly believed it hadn’t just been office equipment in those fires. Ripkin was hiding secrets, although what kind, she didn’t know. She had filed her report on the most recent warehouse fire, and her amendments to the other five, but unless she was called into the Moose investigation, her official role was done.
Which was frustrating.
On top of that, she was worried about Danny. It was obvious that he was sad deep inside and keeping things to himself, and that worried her. It might have been the way things always had been, but that had to change. It just wasn’t healthy.
Everything else was great between them, though. He had moved into her house by attrition, every night bringing over another bunch of clothes, not that he had much. He also brought his TV with him, and she had to admit it was a helluva of an improvement over her piece of crap.
He was letting the apartment go. An era over. The four men who had started out as fraternity brothers graduating on to adulthood.
Or the grave, in Moose’s case.
Stopping in front of a dress shop, she tilted her head at what was in the window. Deandra had left town, quitting her job, packing up her stuff, and going off to God only knew where. She wasn’t free, though. Not by a long shot. The authorities had questioned her and she was still on their list as a person of interest. It was pretty clear she might have had the motive, but there was no concrete evidence that she hadn’t done anything criminal herself.
But the investigation was ongoing.
“Anne!”
She turned and started to smile. “Hi, Mom. Thanks for coming.”
As she met her mother halfway down the strip mall, she decided her brother was right. Their mom seemed much happier, and glowing, in the last week.
Healing was good for people, wasn’t it.
“You are not going to believe it,” Nancy Janice announced, “but I sold two of my oil paintings to a gallery this morning! I can’t stand it! Who would ever have thought anybody would want something I did?”
Anne hugged her mother and was surprised by how easy it was. “I’m proud of you.”
“Me, too.” Nancy Janice took Anne’s hand. “Now, let’s focus on you.”
“Oh, God, this is a dumb idea.”
“No, it is not. And I’ll be with you the whole time. Come on, let’s do this.”
As they walked toward the hair salon together, Anne glanced over her shoulder. “And after we’re done, I want to go this other shop for a second. There’s something I want your opinion on.”
* * *
Danny could not frickin’ sit down. On that note, he wished the waiting room was twelve times the size it was.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and—
The door opened and Dr. McAuliffe smiled at him. “Well, hello.”
“Hi, Doc.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “How’re ya?”
“Good, very good. Come on back.”
As she held the way for him, he hesitated. But then he forced his feet to get moving.
“Thanks, Doc,” he muttered as went inside.
“Sit wherever you like. You remember the rules. There really aren’t any.”
He smiled because he felt like he had to, and chose the sofa. “Yeah.”
The doctor sat down, and he noted she was in another variation on what she’d had one the previous meeting, although this time, there was some purple thrown in with the brown.
“So I was surprised to hear from you.” She smiled gently. “But glad you called.”
“Thanks for fitting me in.”
“Of course.”
He looked around, seeing all the Purposely Calming details. Or maybe that was really her; maybe it wasn’t all a calculation, but rather an expression of a compassionate soul at peace in the world.
“I guess I should explain why I’m here,” he said.
“You can start, there. Sure.”
Clearing his throat, he rubbed his thighs. “I, ah, I’m in love.”
“Really! That’s wonderful.”
As he smiled, he ducked his eyes and blushed. Like an idiot. Like a schoolboy. Like someone confessing to his mother he was going out with a girl.
“She’s amazing.”
“I’ll bet.”
“She’s a firefighter, too. Or was. Until she . . . well, it’s Anne. You know, Anne Ashburn.”
“Really.” Dr. McAuliffe smiled. “That sounds like a beautiful relationship.”
“I want it to be. She means so much to me, and I would do anything to protect her and make her happy.” Abruptly, he focused directly on the doctor. “And that’s why I’m here. I don’t want me to be what fucks it up. ’Scuse my French.”
“No offense taken.”
“I thought maybe we could talk about things that are up here.” He tapped himself on the head. “Things that I can’t unsee, things I can’t undo, things I wish were different.”
Like Moose.
Like Emilio, who was back at work and looking like road kill.
Like Sol, who they shouldn’t have lost.
“I think that’s a really good idea, Danny. Where do you want to start?”
He thought about the old lady on that bed in that burning apartment. The axe going into the back of Moose’s head. Anne and her hand. Emilio in the hospital bed. Sol screaming, “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” right before he was crushed by debris.
He thought of himself regaining consciousness at the bottom of the collapsed warehouse wall, his mask cracked, his body crushed, his breathing bad.
And then he thought of John Thomas.
“I want to talk about my twin brother.”
“Okay. Tell me about him. Tell me all about him.”
Danny had to blink his eyes as they started to burn. But then he smiled. “Oh, Jesus, he was an annoying little shit when we were growing up. He used to wait for me to fall asleep at night and then . . .”