Embers & Ash by T.M. Goeglein

Author:T.M. Goeglein
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2014-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

Staring at myself in the mirror Thursday morning, trying to subdue my hair like a lion tamer with a whip, I sighed, gave up, and clipped it back. Rain oozed down the glass block window—it seemed biblical, like it would never stop. The way my life was going, plagues and locusts would be next. As I reached for my toothbrush, Doug said, “You already did that.”

He was leaning in the doorway, flicking the lighter, an old Cubs cap jammed on his head. At his feet, Harry lifted his soft, gray skull and blinked at me.

“I did?”

“Nervous, huh?” he said.

“Did you make the call?”

He dropped his voice an octave and said, “Good morning, this is Anthony Rispoli. My daughter, Sara Jane, is under the weather today with her monthly . . . well, ha-ha, you get the picture. She’ll be back at school tomorrow.”

“Did you really need to add that detail?”

“All great actors improvise,” he said. “No one will question that excuse.”

“Time?” I said, walking past him to my room.

He glanced at his watch, following me. Harry’s claws tick-tacked behind him. “It’s seven forty-five. Thing with Lucky is at nine?”

“Sharp,” I said, taking my standard sit-down outfit from the closet—black skirt, starched white blouse, black heels.

“Okay, well, I’m going to walk Harry before school. Seen his muzzle?”

“In the front closet,” I said. “Why?”

“He’s been going for the pigeons lately, haven’t you, naughty boy?”

“I hate that thing. He can’t bark when he’s wearing it, can barely even whine.”

“That’s okay,” Doug said. “He could use a little quiet time.”

“You have to take his collar off for the muzzle to fit,” I said. “Don’t lose it. Lou made that collar for Harry.”

Doug slipped it off Harry, inspected it, and handed it to me. “It’s cool.”

I looked at the small rectangle of copper into which Lou had etched Harry in curlicue script; it was attached to a band that fit snugly around the dog’s little neck. “He’s getting aggressive with pigeons, huh?” I said.

“You know what they say—dogs feels the stress of their owners.”

“In that case, he should be going for something a lot bigger than a pigeon.”

“It’s going to be fine. Just be careful,” Doug said, turning away. “Break a leg!”

“If that’s all that gets broken, I’ll be a happy girl,” I muttered.

I heard the closet door shut, the elevator clank and whirr, and I was alone. If I were someone who prayed regularly, now would’ve been the time. I started to dress, thinking of a helping hand, how welcome it would be, and recalled what Tyler had said about watching each other’s backs. Lucky had made it clear in his text that our sit-down was a secret, but—screw it. Tyler had been correct; he and I were outliers in the organization. If the results of my interrogation of the Russian were as dire as I thought they might be, it would affect him, too. Short of any information I learned about my family, I resolved to tell him what I learned.

I finished dressing, and as I went for the elevator, noticed the rain had eased back.

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