Free Convicted: A Mafia Romance by Jacee Macguire Page B

saying something about the police as she crawled to her feet and disappeared inside. Closing my eyes to the flames, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and called Hackett.
    “Hackett? Hello!” I shouted.
    “Haven? Why are you screaming?”
    “Sorry. Hard to hear you. He bombed the car. Davis is dead.”
    “What the fuck! Where are you?”
    “Shiner. At the orphanage.”
    “Stay put. Don’t leave the orphanage. Eamon and I are on our way.”
    “But the police. Stay put, damn it.”
    Hackett sighed over the phone. “Okay.” The line when dead after that. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, upset, or just being his usual non-chatty self.
    I didn’t move. No matter how much I tried to keep myself from looking at the car, I found my eyes falling on the twisted wreckage. I could have been in that car. I could have died. Every horrible thing I had thought about Davis swept through my mind in an instant and guilt followed, licking at its heels.
    The police and fire department showed up within minutes, putting out the raging inferno. Plain-clothes officers wearing wranglers and dusty boots asked tons of questions. I had expected that, as I explained countless times to several different officers why we had paid a visit to the orphanage. Almost an hour after the bomb blasted through the silence of the calm country town, Hackett and Eamon pulled into the driveway. Hackett hopped out of the car and ran to me, slamming the door so hard the SUV shook.
    “Are you hurt? Please tell me you’re okay. The boss will have our asses if you’re hurt.”
    “I’m fine.” My voice cracked as the words slid over my tongue. “Davis didn’t make it.” I tilted my head to the black body bag on the ground, some twenty feet away.
    “I’m sorry. Were you able to find out anything?”
    “Yes. Fuck!” I yelled, suddenly realizing something. “Davis had the file on Theron from his years here at the orphanage in his briefcase.”
    “What’s that?” He asked, pointing at the dusty old box I was holding.
    “It’s his belongings.” I lifted the lid, taking a quick look inside. Photographs? Tons of them. Photographs of his family, including his mother and father.
    Hackett spoke with the officer that was in charge of the scene to make sure it was okay to take me home. It was. And I had never been so grateful to get the hell away from anywhere in my life. On our way out the short driveway, I caught sight of a camera at the intersection, aimed damn near straight at the old house.
    “Stop!” I screamed.
    Eamon laid on the brakes, giving me one hell of a scary look. “What? We need to get the hell out of here.”
    “There’s a camera over there.”
    “So what.”
    “It’s facing the house. What if it caught him placing the bomb on the car? What if it caught a shot of his face?”
    Eamon slammed the car in reverse, sending gravel flying everywhere. We skidded to a stop only feet away from a half dozen cops. Hackett jumped out, rushing to the cops, his hand pointing at the street camera across the way. Heads nodded and everyone seemed to jump into action.
    Twenty minutes later, we were piled in the police department, watching a video of a tall man with short dark hair placing a bomb under the hood of the SUV Davis and I had been traveling in. Then it happened. The man turned, giving us a clear look at his face and my heart stopped. “Oh my god!” I squealed, jumping out of my chair. “He looks just like Sebastian. Exactly like him. They’re identical fucking twins.”
    “This is huge, Haven,” Hackett said, placing a large hand on my trembling shoulder. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. He put the phone to his ear and waited for an answer.
    “Agent Dooley. This is Hackett. Remember that favor you owe Sebastian Christakos? Well, it’s due. We need your help. Meet us at the police department in Shiner. Now.”
     

Chapter Twelve - Sebastian
     
    “Plans are nothing; planning is everything.”
    - Dwight