Page 61 of No Safe Place

The entire side wall of the banquet room and half of its back wall were gone now and the roof was missing. Half of the tables were in splinters and the parking lot was covered in debris.

Among the shattered boards of what was formerly known as the banquet room lay four figures in tactical gear. The blast had sent them back between a dozen to about twenty feet. All seemed to be missing limbs. Few still had shoes on. None of them were moving.

What was that term? I thought, staring at them.

Something around and find out?

They seemed to have found out. That was for sure. They wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I’d been waiting for them all right. I’d set my beautiful little eye in the sky onto the BearCat so the second it had moved in the post office parking lot, it had sent me a notification.

Watching on my phone as the men split up by the church, I knew where they were most likely headed, so I hurried to get ready.

Hearing them scurrying around on the other side of the building wall in the banquet room like bad little mice trying to play a trick, I’d decided to place a block of RDX from my bag of tricks on my side of the wall.

I placed it down low and then covered it with three of the heavy flipped-over tables to direct the charge only outward. And just before they could blow the wall in at us, I decided to conduct a little demonstration on the two-way nature of nasty surprises.

By blowing the wall out onto them.

I’d beat them to the punch all right, I thought, looking out at the dead. Fair was fair, right? And all was fair in love and war.

“What in the hell?” Mathias said, suddenly next to me with the others. “What happened?”

I pointed outside the blasted down wall at the dead mercenaries.

“Looks like they tried to blow a hole in the wall to get in and had an accident or something. Must have crossed a wire or something too soon,” I said.

“My restaurant!” Scotty said, suddenly next to Mathias. “There’s no roof! The whole building is wrecked. They blew up my joint!”

“Is the BearCat truck still out there?” I said to Daisy.

“No, it took off a second after the explosion. What now?”

“We need to retreat,” I said.

I pointed out past the dead men and the debris toward the old brick antique place behind the restaurant.

“We need a new hideout now,” I said, patting Scotty on the back as I passed him. “This one here is done.”

54

Around eleven o’clock Cushing stood in his upstairs bedroom, looking out at the dark waters of the Farmington River that ran behind the house.

The Forge where Jodi was now was north up the river and he looked to his left in that direction.

Then he looked back at the empty bed.

Like all the other rooms in his historic home, his bedroom had all the ingredients of a designer’s touch. Neutral tones, soft lighting, statement furniture in the sitting room. The king-size bed was draped in luxe Italian linens and behind it was a creamy, velvet, cushioned custom headboard.

Truly, the whole estate was a masterpiece. A rolling lawn went down to the scenic river and in the southwest corner of the property was a sunken garden, a greenhouse, a fountain.

And the artwork. They had several of the more important impressionist paintings—a Degas, a Monet—as well as several Whistlers, all from the college’s vast art collection.

How happy Jodi had been when they first were shown the stunning place, Cushing thought. It was like the Virginia manor house that she had grown up in, only better. He would never forget her happy tears.

But what did all that matter now? Cushing thought.

He looked back at the empty bed again.

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