Liquid Smoke

SIXTY-ONE

“I need to get going,” Carter said. “Let me know what you decide.”

“Do my best not to disappoint you,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He walked toward the front door and turned around. “You won’t disappoint me, Noah. Whatever you end up thinking is right. You have to do what’s right for you. You do that, I won’t be disappointed.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He nodded and opened the door.

The alleyway roared and the concussive force of an explosion sent both of us to the floor. I slammed my head against the leg of the dining room table.

I rolled over, gathered my bearings, and sat up. “You alright?”

Carter used the sofa to pull himself up. “What the fuck was that?”

Smoke filled the air and the doorway, but I didn’t see any flames. Something was on fire, though. We went out through the slider and around the boardwalk to the alley.

Sirens were already whining in the distance. We turned the corner to the alley.

Carter’s truck was a bonfire. Flames shot high into the air, black smoke billowing from beneath what was left. The skull and crossbones on the hood were unrecognizable.

“Was I supposed to be in that?” Carter asked.

Things are gonna start blowing up in your face.

That’s what Keene had said.

The first fire engine arrived and filled the alley with red and white lights. The firefighters got to work hooking up a hose, soaking the charred remains of Carter’s truck.

Cars didn’t just blow up in alleys. I knew it was Keene.

Maybe he thought he’d scare me off. He’d already figured out that going after the people in my life was more effective than coming directly at me. I hated that he somehow knew that. He was clearly threatened by the idea of Simington giving up information to me and he was striking out quickly and violently.

But he wasn’t scaring me off. He was forcing me to deal with him.

Staring at the smoke and fire and destruction that Landon Keene had brought to my life and feeling the ache that had taken up permanent residence in my gut, I knew my decision was made.