Peter had rung the doorbell only once, but Mingus’s barking would wake the dead. Dinah wore thick flannel pajama bottoms and a UWM sweatshirt. Not what Peter had imagined when he pictured her sleeping.
Dinah glared at him with those glacier-blue eyes. “Peter, do you have any idea what time it is?”
Mingus poked his nose past her hip, tail wagging happily. Dinah shoved the dog back with her foot. Peter was glad to see the chrome .32 in her hand. She looked more comfortable with the weapon than he expected.
“I know it’s late, and I’m sorry,” said Peter. “Get your boys out of bed and pack a bag. One night, maybe two. Bring that gun. Five minutes. You’re getting out of this house.”
“I will not,” she said. With that regal bearing, her spine straight as an iron rod. “I have a double shift tomorrow. It’s a school night. Charlie has a math test.”
Of course Dinah would require an explanation.
Peter figured Mingus had woken the boys. He lowered his voice so they wouldn’t hear. “You remember that suitcase I found under your porch?”
Dinah nodded.
“Well, there was more in that bag than money. There was also a decent amount of explosives.” Her eyebrows shot up. “And Lewis and I just found a stash of bomb-making supplies. Enough to make a very big boom.”
“You and Lewis?” She looked confused.
“He’s helping me. Dinah. Something ugly is going to happen soon and I need to get you and the boys out of here now.”
That finally got her attention. But she still didn’t want to believe him. “Why on earth would they come here?”
Peter didn’t want to tell her, but he saw no other way to get her moving in a hurry. So he said it.
“Someone threatened me. And mentioned you and the boys specifically. He was pretty convincing.”
Dinah closed her eyes. He saw her bend then, just for a moment. She looked smaller, softer. Her voice was quieter, too. “The man with the scars?”
Peter nodded. “He’s one of them. It’s their money, and their explosives. They were watching the house, they know where it is. They might be out there right now.”
She opened her eyes and forced her spine straight, the iron rod in place again. He knew she was strong. He saw then that her perfect posture was part of her strength, the armor she wore to survive the challenges of her life. Though that was nothing compared to what they faced now.
She stepped back to let him inside. Mingus wagged his tail so hard it gave him a whole-body wiggle as Peter closed and locked the new door he’d installed just the other day. He was glad he’d bought the reinforced steel.
She asked, “Was James involved in this?”
Peter let Mingus jump up on him, then rubbed behind his ears. The dog still smelled like strawberries.
“I think Jimmy took it from them,” said Peter. “He must have figured out what they were planning. They still need those explosives. They’re pretty sure either you or I still have them. I imagine they’d like their money back, too. So they have more than one reason to come here.”
“They can have the money. I don’t care about that.”
“Where did you put it?”
“It’s in the attic. Over behind the boxes, still in that paper bag.”
He figured it was as good a place as any. He didn’t have any better ideas. There wasn’t room for it in the hidden stash spot under his truck.
Dinah didn’t waste any more time. She walked to the bedrooms and got the boys up and moving with a few whispered words. Then shoved clothes and toiletries into a bag. Peter walked from window to window, looking out at the night. Just because he hadn’t seen anyone didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Charlie came out and filled a backpack with a half-gallon of milk, a box of cereal, and a few plastic containers of what Peter assumed were leftovers. Threw in a few granola bars and paper cups and some silverware. Smart kid. The Army traveling on its stomach.
Peter didn’t think they would need much food. He had a feeling things were going to happen pretty fast after this.
He stood at the open door, scanning the street, when Dinah came out with a duffel slung over her shoulder, holding a sleepy-eyed Miles by the hand. Her face was set. Charlie shrugged into the backpack with the food and picked up his baseball bat.
“Leave that behind,” said Dinah.
“I’m the man of the house,” said Charlie. “I’m taking the bat.”
Dinah opened her mouth to respond, but Peter said, “Charlie’s right. Bring the bat.” He already had the Sig Sauer in his hand.
They went down the walk to Peter’s truck. He said, “Charlie, we don’t have much room in the front. I need you to get in the back with Mingus, just for a few minutes. It’s going to be pretty dark. You okay with that?”
Charlie paused for only a moment. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Mingus won’t be so scared with me there.”
Twelve years old. Jesus Christ.
Peter saw Dinah wipe her eyes as she climbed into the passenger seat after little Miles.
This whole thing was fucked.
—
The first minutes, they drove in silence. But when Dinah realized where they were going, she said, “No.”
Peter said, “It’s not my first choice, either. But where else do you suggest? Your grandmother’s house?”