“Detective Marker,” I replied and looked back at my gallery.
My heart sunk at the same time my body sagged despondently into Hector’s side. In response, his arm curled around my neck and tightened.
“Donny Balducci’s a firebug,” Detective Marker remarked, his gaze never leaving the building.
“Yeah,” Hector agreed, his eyes also locked on what was left of Art.
My head tilted back to look at Hector.
His face was stony.
My gaze drifted to Detective Marker.
He looked a weird mixture of angry and resigned. In other words, he had what could only be called a Cop Look.
Then Hector started talking again.
“Jack’s sending the tapes by courier to the Station. We got them on the cameras, Jack saw ‘em break in and called it in. Said he saw Donny with the gasoline either Marty or Ricky with him, he didn’t get a good look at the second guy but he knew it was a Balducci. They made fast work of it. The place was ablaze and they were gone before anyone got here.”
“I hope its Ricky,” Detective Marker replied, fishing his phone out of his suit jacket.
“Yeah,” Hector said. “I’m thinkin’ arson is probably a violation of his bond.”
I was no longer listening. A thin film of red had descended over my eyes and there was a buzzing in my ears.
My sagging body went tight and I put my hand on Hector’s stomach, pulled slightly away and looked up at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Hector’s chin dipped and his eyes came to mine.
“Parceling out the bad news, mamita,” he said softly. “You can only take so much at once.”
I blinked at him and then took in both Hector and Detective Marker.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling, something strange happening to me.
It was not my weird, warm, happy glow (not even fucking close).
It was not that hot, hard, painful knot in my chest.
It was something else altogether.
When I had both their attention, I kept talking. “First, for weeks, all the fucking Balduccis call me, stop by the gallery only when I’m alone, show up at my apartment day and night, doing crazy shit, saying crazy things and freaking me out. Then Ricky fucking Balducci breaks in, beats me up and rapes me. Then Harvey fucking Balducci assaults me and tries to kidnap me. Then Marty fucking Balducci threatens me over the phone and calls me the c-word, twice. Now, Donny fucking Balducci has burned down my gallery?”
I was shouting, people were looking at me and I didn’t care.
“You have got to be shitting me!” I yelled.
Hector got in my line of sight.
“Mamita, calm down,” he muttered.
I looked up at him and grabbed onto his tee, fisting it in my fingers and giving him a shake (well, trying to, but he didn’t move, just his tee did).
“You be calm! I’m pissed right, the fuck, off!” I screamed.
“This is gonna end, soon, Sadie, trust me.”
“Yeah, it’s going to end soon. I’m gonna hunt those motherfuckers down and –”
Hector’s hand came over my mouth and I finished my shouted threat so it sounded like, “Kff thff.”
Hector shuffled me back, arm still tight around my neck, hand over my mouth until we were away from Detective Marker and everyone.
Then his head came close. “Mamita, he knows you’re emotional and don’t mean it. Still, not good to threaten homicide in front of a cop.”
I just glared at him over his hand on my mouth.
“You in control?” he asked.
“No!” I said under his hand but it came out, “Nff!”
His body started to shake and I knew he was laughing.
My head prepared to explode.
Now, really, seriously, there was nothing fucking funny about this.
“This is not fucking funny,” I said under his hand but, again, it came out, “Thff if nf ffing ffny.”
I knew he was about to burst out laughing which would mean I’d have to kill him right in front of Detective Marker (or not kill him because I liked him but at least do him some bodily harm) when we heard, “We’re with them.”
Hector and my heads turned to the side and we saw Ralphie and Buddy with YoYo on a leash trying to get by a uniformed officer.
Hector dropped his arms, letting me go and called, “Joe, it’s all right.”
“Joe” looked at Hector, nodded and stepped aside. Ralphie and Buddy forged through, both of them walking slowly, their heads turned to the side staring at Art. YoYo strained at her lead, tongue lolling, bugged out eyes on me and Ralphie let her go. She scampered across the space; I leaned down and picked her up. She decided she needed to bathe my neck and jaw with her tongue so this was what she did, squiggling in my arms, all happy puppy.
“Stop,” Hector suddenly clipped at the pug, YoYo went still immediately and stared at him.
At his tone, so did I.
“She’s just happy to see me,” I explained to Hector.
“Only tongue on your neck is mine,” he returned.
My eyes bugged out as far as YoYo’s.