“That’s okay. I was telling Gus I’m going to have a lawyer friend of mine look into the reasons behind such an oversight. I’m wondering if I have an enemy in the DA’s office.”
“In your position I’d be doing the same thing. Whatever asshole ordered their release without warning you could have gotten your family plus many in the surrounding houses killed. It can’t get swept away under the rug. Homeland Security agents have been notified. They will be here tomorrow morning. Speaking of families, you can rejoin yours now.”
“Thanks, Neil. I’ll be on my routine tomorrow: walk Jean and Deke, write, and have coffee at the beach. My iPhone will be on if you need to talk with me.”
“I’ll have to say, Nick, you don’t seem very upset about all this. These two terrorists… because that’s what they are, attached bombs to your house, and I haven’t even heard your voice raise in tenor.”
“I’m screaming on the inside.”
Dickerson chuckled, and shook his head. “Okay Nick, I’ll be in touch.”
“One other thing before you go. Did you find that Formsby guy who offered me the ghostwriting gig?”
“Nope. It turned out the CIA and FBI were doing a massive raid on Formsby’s holdings. He was dealing with terrorists, and I guess the raid was very successful. They believe he’s in hiding. It’s a good thing you didn’t get mixed into his business.”
“That’s why I don’t do anything but fiction. Real life is a drag.”
“If that Formsby ever does contact you though, string him along, and call the feds.”
“Will do. Goodnight, Neil.”
Nick did an in depth perimeter search just to be safe before going in the house and testing his alarm system. Only the motion detector lights outside weren’t working. After giving Deke water and food, Nick went to the upstairs safe-room and let himself in. Rachel and Jean were both sound asleep. He backed out quietly, thinking they must have the utmost trust in him to drop off to sleep with bombs attached to the house. Nick opened a beer on the deck, sat down with his laptop, and immersed himself in his assassin Diego’s new adventure. Deke joined him at his feet as his laptop warned him of the approaching third hour of the morning.
“C’mon Deke. Let’s go to bed. It’s going to be the pits getting up for the school walk. You know how it is though when they attach bombs to your house, it takes a little time to relax. I wrote another thousand words though. I had my man Diego get into a beef with a mobster who reneged on a contract. Then the jerk threatened to blow Diego to hell. Guess what I did then, Deke?”
Deke looked at Nick questioningly, his head tilted to be ready for a command. Nick gathered his laptop and walked toward the bedroom.
“Diego went away laughing, Deke, and then he put a bomb in the mobster’s house first. I don’t know if I’ll leave the scene in the story, but I sure enjoyed writing it. All in all, my canine friend, that was one hell of a day.”
*
Nick patted Deke’s backside which was parked near his head on the bed. “The least you could do when taking Rachel’s place is put your head next to my face instead of your butt. I don’t mind if Rachel sleeps with her butt in my face, but you… no thanks.”
Deke snorted.
“Yes, I know it’s only six-thirty in the morning, but I have to shave and take a shower while riding herd on Jean to keep moving. You can stay here a while longer. I’ll be back to get you.”
Deke glanced at Nick, and then flopped into place again. After quickly showering and dressing, Nick went to the safe-room. Jean didn’t budge when Nick jiggled her shoulder gently the first couple times. She groaned on the third shake, turning with squinting eyes toward Nick’s smiling face.
“I don’t want to get up, Dad.”
“Assassins do not sleep. They abide until morning.”
“Really?” Jean rolled quickly out of bed. “That’s why we can’t ever beat you out of bed in the morning. It’s a Jedi mind trick, right?”
“Yep. Assassins have inner clocks, which cannot be fooled. Fifteen minutes can be like a full night’s sleep to an assassin.”
“Wow… okay… I’m awake, and ready,” Jean stalked around the room in her pajamas as if waiting for a ninja attack.
“That’s the spirit. Get your shower, and I’ll have your breakfast ready. What would you like?”
“I’ll pick out a cereal when I get down to the kitchen. You can make me some tea though. It’s okay if assassin’s get a caffeine jolt, right?”
“Oh yeah, no rule prohibiting that.”
“I’m hearing all of this ridiculous assassin talk,” Rachel mumbled. “You two do know that, right?”
“You’re dreaming, Mom. We’re a figment of your imagination,” Jean whispered over the closed eyed Rachel. “It was just a dream… a dream.”
“Get away from me, Daughter of Darkness.” Jean giggled, and ran out, headed for the shower. “How many dead, Muerto?”
“None. I let the police and bomb squad have them. It was an instance where a case could be made for God looking out for fools and assassins.”