Page 66 of Redemption's Inferno

“August 17, 2010,” Franny grunted. “I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.”

Emilie froze, trying not to react as she slowly looked up. “Is, uh, is that the day he died?”

“Yup. He was flying a helicopter that went down in Iraq.” Her face hardened, her features twisting painfully. “They said one of the other guys on the helo took the only parachute and jumped after they were hit, leaving the rest of the guys to go down.”

Emilie’s heart was beating so fast she hoped Franny couldn’t see it, so she looked down, wanting to seem sad for her. “That’s dreadful,” she managed to whisper.

“That guy survived,” Franny snarled. “He better hope he never runs into me in a dark alley.”

“War is hard on everyone,” was all Emilie could think to say.

“A lot harder on the families of the ones that died than the ones that lived!” Franny had a look of such hatred on her face, Emilie nearly recoiled. Franny seemed to catch herself, though, shaking her head. “Well, that was a long time ago, anyway. So, did you order toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

Emilie pressed her hands into her lap so Franny wouldn’t see them shaking. “I did. Also have juices coming—orange, grapefruit, cranberry and pineapple.”

“You’ll need to restock tequila, vodka and rum before you go on maternity leave,” Franny continued as if nothing had happened.

Emilie wasn’t sure how she survived the next half hour, going through the inventory list and vendor order dates with the woman who most likely had either killed or was trying to kill the man she loved, but she wasn’t stupid. Nearly nine months pregnant and all alone with her here at the club, she was in no condition to get into a physical altercation with her. However, that didn’t mean Joe and Dante couldn’t go after her.

* * *

Getting home as quickly as she could, Emilie hurried through the house, calling out to Misty.

“Hey.” Misty looked up from the book she was studying; she was taking her first-ever college class. “What’s up?”

“Simone napping?”

“Yup.” Misty frowned. “You okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Emilie turned. “Listen, you’ve been working a lot of hours lately. I think I’ll take Simone to the park for a bit, and you can focus on your studies. I can’t stay in the house—I’m going a little stir-crazy.”

“Okay, then I might go up to the library. I have a paper to write.” Misty nodded, packing up her books and going into the other room.

Emilie hurried to get Simone. She’d left a message for Erin but she hadn’t called her back yet and even though she didn’t think Franny suspected anything, she wouldn’t take a chance with her daughter. She packed a bag for her and then lifted the sleeping toddler out of her bed. “Come on, lovey, we’re going to go play, okay?”

Simone nodded sleepily, nestling into her mother’s chest.

Emilie bundled her into her SUV and headed towards Dante and Becca’s house. If there was anywhere Simone would be safe, it was there. Their house was jokingly called the Compound; it was a veritable fortress and everyone complained they would never go visit because of the amount of security they had to pass to get inside. She was almost there when her phone rang and she answered with the hands-free unit.

“Hey!” Erin said breathlessly. “I was at yoga. What’s up?”

“Can you ask your friend Louie to look up a Marine killed in Iraq on August 17, 2010 named Gary Pomeranz.”

Erin paused. “How did you find out this guy’s name?”

“He was Franny’s husband.”

“Franny…as in Franny that works for you?”

“Yes.”

“Sweet Jesus… Fuck me loud!” Erin hissed. “Okay, I’m calling Louie now. I’ll get back to you.”

* * *

Emilie got to Dante’s house and explained what she’d discovered. She nearly laughed as Dante launched into a tirade of expletives in English, Spanish and French—all languages he spoke fluently. Then he pulled out his phone and called someone, speaking in such rapid Spanish she couldn’t even pick out the words she knew. When he hung up she stared at him questioningly.

“Well? Who was that?”

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