Chapter XCV

The first explosion saved my life. Eliza Michaud jerked the barrel at the sound of the blast, sending the shot over my head to shatter the darkened window behind me. She pivoted to her left and fired the second round at Louis. It missed him and hit a tree, but I heard him swear as a shower of splinters erupted from the trunk. By then Eliza was retreating into the safety of the forest, beyond the reach of the light. She'd need time to reload, which would be our chance to take her.

Before I could move, another shotgun blast came from the ruined window over my head, nearly bursting my eardrums, but this time the firing was directed at the woods. Flattened as I was against the side of the house, I couldn't be seen by whoever was inside, but they were trying to prevent Louis from going after Eliza before she could reload. There came the distinctive sound of a shell being racked and the shotgun roared again. I couldn't see Louis, which meant he was lying low—always a good policy when someone turns a shotgun on you—but I couldn't stay where I was. It wouldn't be long before Eliza rejoined the fight, and my crouching against the white wall of a house while bathed in a halogen glow would not be conducive to a long and happy life.

A second explosion came from the north, this one bigger and louder than the first, and a ball of flame rose over the trees. Hoping that it might further distract the shooter, I duckwalked to the back door, found it unlocked, and eased it open. I was in a kitchen, which extended into a living area, the TV visible beside one of the front windows. There was no apparent connecting door from the kitchen to the room with the shooter, so I'd have to get to the living room and come in behind them.

A chunk of plaster erupted from the wall opposite, reducing a vase to fragments. Someone else inside the house had drawn the shooter's fire. It had to be Angel, coming in from the front. Despite the ringing in my ears, I picked up the sound of footsteps crunching over broken glass. The shooter was moving to tackle the new threat, and I moved with them. I reached the archway leading to the living room as a woman inched her way forward, the barrel of the pump-action roaming for a target. I let her take five more steps so she presented a clear target. Only then did I speak.

"Don't move," I said. "If you do, I'll kill you."

Even with her back to me and her face concealed, I could tell she was weighing her options. They were only two: she could do as I said or she could die. I hoped she'd take the first. I never wanted to shoot another woman—or a man either, if it could be avoided.

Slowly, she lowered the shotgun.

"Set it down," I said.

She did as she was told. Only when it was on the ground did I move in. I pushed her flat on the floor and searched her, but she had no other weapon. Angel arrived while I still had my knee in her back.

"You okay?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Check upstairs."

I turned the woman onto her back. She possessed the hard features of a Dorothea Lange subject from the Great Depression. This was Aline Michaud.

"Mattia Reggio," I said. "Where is he?"

Her mouth moved, but only to form enough spittle to shoot into my face. I wiped it off. From where I knelt, I could see the underside of the kitchen table. A pink mound was lodged there. I thought I knew what it was: Mattia Reggio leaving his calling card, consciously or unconsciously. Perhaps he had known he might be about to die.

I returned my attention to Aline Michaud.

"I'll ask you again," I said. "Where is he?"

But "My brother and sister will kill you for this" was all I got out of her.

Angel came back. "Nobody else in the house, just her."

"Reggio was here. I think he wadded his gum under the table."

Angel went over and touched a finger to it.

"Soft."

I leaned closer to Aline Michaud.

"If he's dead, his DNA will be all over that gum," I told her. "You've just been marked for a life sentence."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Find something to tie her up with," I said to Angel.

"Where's Louis?" he asked as he yanked the phone cable from the wall.

"Going after Eliza, I hope. Last I saw, he'd taken some splinters, but hopefully nothing worse."

In retaliation, Angel pulled the phone cable tight enough around Aline's wrists to make her yelp.

"By the way," he said, "it sounds like someone's starting a war."

"I think they came from the Hickman place," I said, as I left the woman to his care. "If it's war, it's been declared on Antoine Pinette and his crew."