“Er… what?” Her name still eluded him, but if Quinn remembered correctly, Max’d needed to get booster shot, and he wondered if he should ask her about it. “I’m sorry. What’s a federal offense?”
“Tossing out someone’s mail. Is it really a federal offense? I mean, do you really want to read—” She studied a catalogue cover. “—the Fantasy Swords of Ireland and Beyond?”
“Um, yes. Please.” He took the booklet out of her fingers, then tucked it under his arm. “And I think it is—a federal offense. They’ve found over 2500 pounds of mail—well, a postman didn’t deliver. I believe the paper said it was a federal offense.”
“So’s dumping everyone’s mail into my lock box and walking away, but what can you do, you know? Want to help me sort through this stuff?” She rattled a packet of fabric softener samples. “I can make it worth your while. Nice smelly clothes! Free with every ten pieces of crap sorted.”
“I’m good on the clothes.” Quinn edged back when she flapped them again. “But I’ll help. Thing is, what do we do with them afterwards?”
It took them a good ten minutes of crouching over a plastic bin to get everything squared away. For some reason, the piles kept intermingling, and no matter what Quinn did to keep them straight, his mail migrated over to the unsorted pile. After a rousing argument on why sword magazines were not junk mail, Quinn dusted himself off, then stood up.
“Thanks for helping.” She beamed up at him, her eyes bright from their laughing. “Although I feel kind of dirty knowing Mr. Kwan subscribes to women’s underwear magazines.”
“No judging. For all we know, he finds them very comfortable.” Quinn nodded solemnly.
“Oh, trust me, coming from a woman, anything you find inside of that kind of magazine goes from zero to itch a minute after you put it on.” Cocking her head, she glanced behind her toward the street. “Want to go door to door with—”
Quinn never got to answer. A second later, the sky was lit on fire, and the heat of it rushed over them. An echoing boom sent them both to their knees, a shock wave of sound and force strong enough to scatter the envelopes she had in her hand. Smoke and flames shot up into the air, its source hidden by a copse of trees on the corner.
Splinters flew into them, stinging his face and arms. Quinn grabbed at the woman—Raia, his brain’d finally kicked in—and pulled her under him, sheltering her from the debris being ripped up by the explosion, then rained down upon their heads.
He buried his face between her shoulder blades, protecting his eyes from the shrill storm of wood and metal flying into him. Quinn felt Raia’s screams reverberate through her slender body as he covered her back and head, the sound of her terror lost in the booming echoes around them. Quinn’s hearing shut down, overwhelmed by the deep, rolling bass. Then the world shifted, sharper edged and piercing through the numbness, until he was drowning in the woman’s terrified screams.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Quinn reassured her, stroking at her short hair as he dared to look up. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”
“Max!”
Raia struggled to get out from under him, but Quinn held her down.
“I have to get Max!”
“Hold on. Wait and see if it’s over,” he murmured, fishing out his phone. All Quinn could hear was the crackling of flames, and he eased off of Raia to help her to her feet. “Call 911 and tell them there was an explosion. I need you to stay calm. You’re not going to help Max if you’re panicking. Let me go see what happened, and if Max is in danger, we’ll get him out, okay?”
He didn’t wait for Raia to answer him. Instead Quinn took the corner at a hard run, only to skid to a stop a hundred feet later. From what he could see, the houses were still standing firm, although many, including his own, now sported broken windows and torn-off siding. The landscaping beside his driveway was in flames, so brightly engulfed he wondered if he’d hear the voice of God speaking from it.
Car alarms screamed violently, and Quinn saw more than a few people stumble out of their damaged houses to find out what had torn apart their neighborhood. He couldn’t remember which house was Raia’s, but he knew one thing for certain. He was going to have a hard time explaining to the Audi dealership about how their sedan ended up as a smoldering crater in the middle of his driveway.
“Well, shite.” He stared at the flaming chunk of metal he’d driven just half an hour ago, exhausted just looking at the mess he’d somehow brought to the neighborhood. “I fucking hate it when Da’s right.”
Chapter 5
Warehouse Garage.
Kane, joining Miki in the garage: Hey, the GTO is here. It’s all ready to go then?
Miki: Yeah, that’s what the auto guys said. They just unloaded the flatbed and left it here. Made me sign a few papers, tossed me the keys, and headed out.
K: So, you want to take it for a short road trip? Maybe across the Bay?
M: Nope.
K: Why not?
M: Haven’t checked the trunk. Could be a dead body in there.