“Ninety percent of Earth’s population lives in the Northern Hemisphere!”
“Oh, God. Oh, God.” Fran?ois looked at me, tears streaming from his eyes. “Tell Phillip I’m sorry.”
“Done!” Colin threw the wire cutter on the floor and got up. “Vin! Grab Caelan. I’ve got Jenny.”
Blackness rushed towards me, but I kept fighting it. Caelan wasn’t safe yet. Colin, Vinnie and Manny weren’t safe yet.
Vinnie ran to Caelan and picked him up like a baby. Caelan was jerking and keening, but he didn’t fight Vinnie as they ran to the exit, followed by Manny.
“Let’s go!” Daniel was waiting for us. Colin looked at me once, then lifted me over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could, Daniel by our side. I was looking back towards Fran?ois still tied to the chair. He was sobbing, his one hand reached out towards us, his broken fingers stretched out.
That was the last image in my mind as we left the aisle and a few seconds later ran into the frigid night air. Manny, Daniel, Colin and Vinnie continued running towards the GIPN vehicles, their red and blue lights still flashing.
The bomb exploded.
The warehouse lit up, followed by intense heat and a rush of air so strong that it pushed Colin off his feet. His legs buckled under him and we fell. I watched the snow-covered ground rushing up towards me and surrendered to the safe warmth of a shutdown.
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
“Complain one more time and I’m... I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what, little punk?” Vinnie grinned at Nikki when she threw her napkin at him. “Cook again?”
“Not if you keep on criticising everything I made.” Nikki turned to me. “Tell him, Doc G. A good friend supports you and doesn’t rip apart your labour of love.”
I valued Nikki’s cheerful and buoyant personality. Now more than ever. It had been a very difficult few days. But I couldn’t lie. “Vinnie is right. You forgot to add salt to the pasta. It doesn’t taste good.”
“Argh!” Nikki threw her hands in the air before she took the salt shaker and added more salt to her food.
It had been three days since the explosion and we hadn’t found Shahab. Francine had scoured through every camera in the vicinity of the warehouse. She’d found nothing. She hadn’t even been offended when I’d found it hard to believe and had looked through the footage myself. I also had found nothing.
We had come to the conclusion that Shahab must have worn a very good disguise to have avoided detection when he’d left the president’s residence and then the warehouse. It had been a very intense three days.
It was improving, but the first day after the explosion I’d seen the unadulterated fear on Fran?ois’ face every time I closed my eyes. I hadn’t expected such strong emotional repercussions from leaving behind a man who’d played a role in those brutal deaths. I had trouble sleeping.
Colin had insisted we visit the hospital after the explosion. I had been in a shutdown for three hours before we could go. The doctor had examined the numerous small lacerations on my hands where the debris from the explosions had cut my hands when I’d lifted them to protect my face.
Fortunately for all of us, our winter coats had protected us from any deeper cuts. Had I worn my gloves, my hands would most likely not have been injured at all.
The destruction to the warehouse had been extensive. One of the GIPN trucks that had been parked close to the door had also been damaged quite severely by the flying debris. All the officers that had taken cover behind the vehicles were unharmed. As were Daniel, Manny and Vinnie.
It had been an immense challenge to get Caelan into a hospital room. Not even Francine or Phillip had been able to calm him when they’d arrived at the hospital. His hoarse keening had become too much for me and I’d left my room to admonish him.
But his tear-streaked cheeks had caused a heavy weight to rest on my chest. So I’d sat with him and given him incorrect geographical facts until he’d calmed down enough to admonish me. Francine had laughed and cried at the same time.
She’d been affected by Fran?ois’ death as strongly as if she’d been there. The horror on her face had been severe when she’d recalled seeing the video footage blink out when the bomb had exploded. Vinnie had suggested she go to the therapist at GIPN. Daniel’s whole team were going for sessions to deal with leaving someone behind, the bomb squad as well.
I took another bite of Nikki’s unsalted pasta and allowed the bickering to wash over me. I needed this. I needed the normality of having dinner with the people who had become my family.
Knowing that the man who had killed Caelan’s friends was free caused me great distress. Even without any resources, he would not have any financial problems if he managed to sell the heroin in the wine bottles he’d taken from Adèle.
“Okay, wait.” Nikki wiped Eric’s chin and turned to Francine. “What happened with Fran?ois’ lawyer?”
“He’s gone. His legal firm hasn’t seen him since the meeting at Rousseau & Rousseau. And he’s cleaned out his personal accounts.” Pink took the cloth from Nikki, frowned at her, then cleaned Eric’s cheek and neck as well. I found it most repulsive to watch the little one eat. He’d recently insisted on feeding himself with his plastic spoon. A large percentage of his food didn’t make it to his mouth, but had to be wiped off his tray and his body.
“Huh.” Roxy pulled the serving dish with grilled vegetables closer and added two heaped spoons to her plate. “Do you think he’s with Shahab now?”
“We don’t know.” The dark shadows under Francine’s eyes were mostly gone. But they’d been replaced by a new tension—the kind observed in victims of violence. I decided to encourage her to see that therapist. After I vetted him. She sighed. “I’m looking for him. And for Shahab.”
Roxy put her knife and fork down. “He’s a... a... monster.”
“And that’s putting it lightly,” Francine said.
“What about Claire?” Roxy asked. “Will there be any legal fallout for her?”
“No.” Pink helped Eric scoop food onto his plastic spoon. “Dan and Fabien worked with the prosecutors on this. Claire and her husband will tell the prosecutor everything they know and also give them access to all Adèle’s accounts. Claire no longer needs or wants the drug money.”
“Wow.” Roxy shook her head. “What a crazy case. I’m just glad you’re all safe. Car chases. Bombs. Scary stuff.”
Both had been terrifying. The bomb squad had confirmed there had been explosives in the SUV that had exploded and had told us we’d been lucky.
Francine sighed loudly, then frowned. She shook her head as if to stop an internal process and straightened in her chair. Then put one fist on her hip and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Okay, that’s it. If no one’s going to say it, I will.” She looked around the table, then rolled her eyes and looked back at Roxy. “I don’t like your hair like that.”
Roxy’s eyes widened. My groan came out louder than I’d intended. I’d become quite familiar with the fake shock. She put her one hand over her chest. With the other, she played with her long straight hair. “You don’t like it all neat and tidy? I look just like you.” She moved her chair back and waved both hands over her body. “Look. Designer jeans, a gorgeous blouse just like the one you bought last month. And my new boots are standing there by the door.”
Francine’s lips thinned. “That blouse looks nothing like mine.”
“But look.” Roxy’s eyes widened even more. “It has the same cute little buttons like yours does.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny muttered a few more rude words under his breath and pushed his plate away.
“See?” Roxy looked at Manny as if he’d given her a beautiful gift. “Even Manny loves my new look.”
“Well, it doesn’t work.” Francine crossed her arms.