“Do you want to wait here and I’ll bring the car over?” asked Lucy, but Bill shook his head and headed straight for her SUV, albeit walking rather more slowly than usual.
Zoe headed in the opposite direction, toward her little Civic.
Watching her go, Lucy had a sudden inspiration and called after her, “Zoe! Pick up a pizza for dinner!”
“Again?” asked Bill with a groan.
Zoe turned back and gave her a nod. “Will do!”
Bill grunted a bit as he settled himself in the passenger seat, and he winced as Lucy helped him with his seat belt, arranging it so it didn’t press against his broken arm. Then she started the car and they were on the way home.
“So what really happened?” she asked, braking at the exit.
“It’s like I told the lieutenant,” said Bill. “I opened the door and the place blew up.”
“Do you think it was a gas leak?” she asked, making the turn onto Main Street. “Or did somebody set a bomb, like maybe one or more of those anti-immigration demonstrators?”
“Could be either of those,” said Bill. “Or it could have been Rey.”
Lucy couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Rey?”
“Yeah. Why not? He’s running into a lot of problems here. His son is facing criminal charges, he’s got to pay a lot of money for a lawyer to defend the kid, and he’s already soaked a lot of money into a project that he probably figures is never going to be profitable.”
“You think he did it himself for the insurance money?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time somebody tried that,” said Bill, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Or the last.”
When they got home Lucy helped him into the house and got him settled on the sectional in the family room where he could rest and watch the evening news on TV while she threw together a salad. When the segment about the explosion came on, he called her and she hurried to watch.
Looking at the images of the damage, which was extensive, she thought it was a miracle that Bill had survived. As Zoe had told her, the entire front of the pub was gone, and the inside was a charred mess. Tables and chairs had been tossed this way and that, the remaining walls were streaked with soot, and the swinging door that led to the kitchen was hanging askew. A lace curtain that remained where a window had once been blew in the breeze.
“What happened here?” a reporter asked fire chief Buzz Bresnahan. “Was it arson?”
“We don’t know yet. The fire marshal will conduct a complete investigation. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. One man was injured, but there were no fatalities.”
Overcome by the thought of what might have been, Lucy plunked herself down on the coffee table and took Bill’s good hand. When she started to talk he shushed her.
“All’s well that ends well,” he said with a wry grin. “And I think Zoe’s here with the pizza—and the pills.”
Lucy met Zoe in the kitchen and they put together trays so they all could eat in the family room. Lucy read the instructions on the bottle of painkillers and counted out two tablets, which she placed in a custard cup on Bill’s tray. He swallowed them immediately when she gave him his dinner tray, washing them down with a big swallow of cola. He had switched off the news and found a college football game, and the roar of the huge crowd, punctuated by blasts from the college band, provided a welcome distraction as they ate their pizza and salad.
When there was a break in the action and the chains were brought out to determine if Iowa had made a first down, Zoe spoke up. “I don’t think I should go to Montreal,” she said, referring to her planned departure after class on the coming Tuesday, two days before Thanksgiving. “Dad’s gonna need help while Mom’s at work and I’m sure Renée will understand.”
“But you’ve been looking forward to seeing Renée,” said Lucy, referring to their young neighbor from the housing development on nearby Priscilla Path who was attending Concordia University.
“And I’ll be fine,” said Bill, who had polished off his first piece of pizza and was well into his second.
“I’m really nervous about leaving and I know I’d be terrible company. I’d just be worried about Dad and Matt and, well, it’s just a lot coming on top of Alison’s death.”
“I think you should go, the sooner the better, for your own safety,” said Lucy. “I’ve got a bad feeling that Tinker’s Cove isn’t safe right now.”
Bill was about to take a bite of pizza but, hearing this, set it back down on his plate.
“Don’t be silly, Lucy. That explosion was probably due to a loose gas connection, something like that.”
“I don’t think so, Bill. I think it was purposely set off by somebody, some evil person who didn’t care if someone got hurt. Maybe it was for insurance, maybe it was to send a message. I don’t know. But I do know that the whole town feels different. It’s like people are afraid to meet each other’s eyes. Admit it. You’ve felt it, too. There are people who don’t like the fact that you’ve been working for Rey Rodriguez.”
“Some idiot did throw some rotten garbage into my truck,” he said with a shrug.
“When was this?” demanded Lucy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“A couple days ago. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he replied.
“It is a big deal!” exclaimed Lucy. “It’s escalating and I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse.”
“Mom, you’re being paranoid,” said Zoe.
“Well, maybe so, but better safe than sorry. I think you should give Renée a call and say you can come earlier than you planned, okay?”
Zoe didn’t answer but looked at her father, waiting for his thoughts.
“I’m not sure your mom is right, but I do think you could use a change of scene,” said Bill. “It would be good for you to spend some time with Renée .
