Against a Brightening Sky (6 page)

Libby patted Stella's back and set her down. “Sit with your papa, sweetheart. Be very careful not to bump him. I need to help Sam.”

Gabe managed to sit next to Delia without jarring his ribs too much. Connor sat on her lap, fully awake and watching everything. There was something fiercely protective about the way Dee held Connor, something that went beyond offering comfort to a scared little boy. Given how badly the day had gone, he couldn't blame her for holding on extra tight.

But Gabe knew his wife too well to let it pass as a simple case of nerves. Delia had reason to worry about Connor, a reason that went beyond events in the square. She wanted to hide how deep that worry ran from Sadie. What he didn't know was why.

Delia's lip trembled and tears filled her eyes, but she managed a smile before leaning her head against his shoulder. “I knew you were all right, but I'm still awfully glad to see you. The same goes for Jack and Sam. It's been a difficult afternoon.”

He laughed, regretting it instantly. No matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, his ribs were almost definitely cracked or broken, and that meant getting a doctor to tape them before he went back to work. “‘Difficult' is the perfect word, Mrs. Ryan. I can't think of a better way to describe it. Unfortunately, the day's not over yet. I have to go back to work once Jack's on his way to the hospital.”

Libby looked up from fussing over Alina and frowned. “I'll never understand why men can't be sensible about these things. You need a doctor as much as Jack does, and I wouldn't be surprised if Sam doesn't need to be seen as well. The only place any of you should go is home to bed. I'm positive Delia agrees with me.”

Gabe agreed with her too. All he wanted was to go home, to lie propped up in the corner of the sofa with an arm around Delia and the smell of her hair surrounding him. But he couldn't dismiss the cold itch on the back of his neck nor silence the half-heard whispers in his ear about how the men on the roof had died. He needed to discover who the strange cop with the army revolver had been.

Above all, Gabe had to find a safe place for Alina to stay before he went home and collapsed. A place no one would think to look for her.

Delia twisted in her seat to peer at him, her arms still wrapped tight around Connor. “Libby's right, you should go home. But I know you, Gabe Ryan, and you'll do nothing of the sort. What haven't you told me?”

He briefly outlined the story of the strange cop setting off the dynamite on the roof, killing the two men sowing death amongst the crowd of parade spectators. A glance at Sadie made him leave out details of the building's partial collapse, a collapse that had almost buried Jack alive. He was mindful of Stella listening as well.

“Five officers died when the dynamite on that roof exploded.” Gabe shut his eyes briefly, but that was a mistake. All he saw were his men's broken bodies and their startled expressions. He eased himself up straighter in the seat. “Two of them were rookies from my station. I'll likely have nightmares about that. And the way the explosion happened—something's not right. I can't walk away, Dee. I need to at least try to find some answers before the trail goes cold.”

Delia rested her chin on the top of Connor's head, chewing her bottom lip. “Nothing about this afternoon feels right, and I don't understand it any more than you do. That bothers me a great deal. But the thought of you going back out there without Jack gives me the willies. You've already been hurt.”

“Pardon me.” Sam cleared his throat and traded looks with Gabe. “I understand why Gabe doesn't feel he can leave this mess for someone else to clean up. Since I might be the only one who doesn't need a doctor, I'll stay here to watch his back. Gabe can supervise and I'll do the hard parts.”

Gabe saw more questions and doubts in Delia's eyes, but she kept them to herself. Instead, she sat back and nodded. “I'm holding you responsible for him, Sam Butler. Don't let him stay longer than absolutely necessary. And don't let him do more than he should.”

Sam put a hand over his heart and bowed his head. “You have my solemn word. I'll get him home as soon as possible.”

“You've got my promise too.” Gabe took her hand. “I'll be careful.”

Alina cried quietly, arms wrapped across her chest and rocking. Gabe would never forget the days just after his father was killed and how for a time, grief was his whole world. He imagined the initial shock of watching people die and being shot at herself was beginning to wear off. He pitied her that. Pain would rush to fill the emptiness, razor edged and unrelenting.

Libby gathered Alina into her arms, letting the brokenhearted young woman sob against her shoulder. “There, there, it will be all right. Cry it all out if you need to, but the worst is over. You're safe. I promise, no one's going to hurt you.”

“She just watched her parents die, Libby. Then they tried to shoot her too.” Sam wiped a hand over his face, suddenly looking much older than twenty-five. “I don't think things will be all right for a very long time.”

Tears filled Libby's eyes and she hugged Alina tighter. “Then it's best she cry it out. Keeping the hurt inside will only make it last longer.”

“Excuse me, Captain Ryan. Can I have a word with you?”

He looked up to see Dominic Mullaney standing at the entrance to the alcove. Mullaney was nervous, sweating and fidgeting, and toying with the brim of the hat in his hands. Dominic's face showed just how much punishment he'd taken in the fight outside. Gabe was oddly relieved to see he hadn't been hurt worse. Business owners might not like Mullaney, but he didn't see much wrong with Dominic's goal of making sure his men were paid a decent wage. As long as the union stayed on the right side of the law and off private property, Gabe saw no reason to stop them from recruiting new members.

That Mullaney came looking for him confirmed his opinion of the union leader's character. And he'd wager Jack coffee and cookies for a week that his growing hunch was right; Dominic Mullaney had nothing to do with the violence and destruction surrounding Lotta's fountain.

Not that Gabe could say that to anyone but his partner, not without proof. He couldn't cross Dominic Mullaney off his list of suspects just yet.

Movement in the lobby caught his eye. An older man, nattily dressed in an expensive serge suit and with a neatly trimmed beard, stood a few yards back. The scowl on the stranger's face made it clear what he thought of Dominic speaking to the police. As soon as the stranger noticed Gabe watching, he spun on his heel and quickly walked to the other end of the lobby. He loitered there, apparently waiting for Mullaney.

Not everyone was fond of police officers, and even honest people went out of their way to avoid cops. All his years of experience said that wasn't the case here—the stranger had something to hide. Gabe put finding out exactly who this man was and his connection to Mullaney on the list of things he needed to know.

Gabe glanced at Jack, but his partner's eyes were closed tight. Sadie leaned over him, whispering in his ear and brushing the curls back from Jack's face. Stella sat still and quiet at her father's side, holding his hand. His stomach lurched, the specter of losing his best friend looming large again.

He prayed Taylor and Maxwell would bring the car soon. Gabe cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the young labor leader. “What can I do for you, Mullaney?”

“I needed you to know that my men and I, we didn't have anything to do with what happened.” Dominic waved his hat toward the square. “The fighting, the guns and the explosions—the union didn't have a part in starting any of that. Our families were here watching the parade. No matter what the ship owners claim, the union's not cold blooded enough to set off bombs around our kids.”

Gabe studied Mullaney's face. Even if that wasn't true for all the union men, Dominic believed what he'd said. “All right, fair enough for now. I don't know you very well, but Father Colm speaks highly of you, and I respect his opinion. But that doesn't mean I won't keep asking questions. Any idea who might have set this up?”

“I swear on my mother's grave, Captain Ryan, I don't have any notion of who was on that roof. I'd like to find out.” Mullaney crushed the brim of his hat in a fist and scowled. “And I want to know what trick they used to get friends fighting each other and seeing things that weren't there.”

Delia had stayed silent and listened to everything said, but now she leaned forward, suddenly more attentive. “Seeing things, Mr. Mullaney? What did your men see?”

Dominic glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “All the men I talked to said there were monsters and angels reaching for them. That's who they thought they were fighting or trying to drive away from their families. If twenty men weren't all telling the same story, I'd think the whole lot of them were lying.”

“I agree, Mr. Mullaney. The odds of twenty men concocting the same story are very slim.” Dee chewed her bottom lip, thinking. “Did you see these angels and monsters?”

Mullaney slapped his hat against his leg, a nervous rhythm that said he was as confused about what had happened as any of them. “No, missus. I didn't see anything myself, but I heard the wind keening like a banshee. All my men heard the wailing and made a point of saying so. I can testify to that part being true.”

The urge to move, to walk away while he thought things out swept over him, but Gabe forced himself to be still. He'd been too young before his grandmother died to hear her stories about banshees, but his mother had repeated the tales for him once he was almost grown. Gram's stories said banshees could appear as ugly old hags or as beautiful women, and that anyone who heard them wail knew death stalked the household. If several banshees appeared together, it foretold the death of someone important or holy, a nobleman or a priest. Another of his grandmother's tales said a banshee was the ghost of a murdered woman.

“Monsters and angels … Mother of God.” Gabe wiped a hand over his mouth. Those stories belonged to the Irish countryside where his grandmother was born, not San Francisco. “I saw something in the smoke, but I thought it was my mind playing tricks.”

“Then my mind was playing tricks on me too. I've never heard anything like the voices riding on that wind.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and stretched out his long legs. “But I didn't feel the need to take a swing at anyone after hearing them, other than in self-defense. Neither did Gabe or any of the uniformed officers. From what you say, Mr. Mullaney, the same holds true for you. I wonder why that is?”

“You're right to wonder, Sam. None of it makes sense.” Delia met Gabe's eyes. She didn't need to tell him that the faces in the smoke were phantoms of some sort. That much was clear. Over the years, he'd learned enough from Delia and Isadora to understand that spirits were limited in what they could do, and who they could influence. Not even the strongest ghost could incite an entire crowd to riot.

From where he sat right now, that looked to be exactly what happened. That was a terrifying thought, but so was the possibility that something else, something entirely outside his experience, had happened.

Maxwell and Taylor came into view, hurrying through the lobby, looking for Jack and Gabe. The two patrolmen were followed closely by four other men carrying canvas stretchers. Taylor saw Gabe and pointed the alcove out to the stretcher-bearers before trotting over himself.

“Captain, the hospital sent an ambulance for the lieutenant.” Taylor spoke quickly. “Dr. Jodes insisted and said for us to hurry. He's worried the lieutenant might have a concussion.”

“I'm going with him. Sit with your aunt Delia, Stella.” Sadie kissed Stella's cheek and moved her to the other sofa near Gabe, giving the ambulance attendants room to work. She stood out of the way, clutching her handbag tight as the four burly men eased Jack down onto the stretcher. “Dee … would you mind getting Stella and Connor home to Annie? I'll call from the hospital as soon as I have news.”

“Of course I don't mind! Don't worry about either of them for an instant.” Delia stood, putting Connor on her hip so she could hug Sadie. “You tend to Jack and I'll look after the children. Everyone will be fine, I promise.”

Gabe managed to get to his feet without too much trouble and stood with Delia. All Jack's friends watched the ambulance attendants carry him away. Sadie walked right next to the stretcher, never taking her eyes off Jack's face. Stella sat on the edge of the sofa as her parents left, swinging her legs and singing quietly. She was too young to understand.

Too young to worry.

Taylor cleared his throat. “Captain, the car's waiting at the side of the hotel. Now that Lieutenant Fitzgerald's seen to, I can drive Mrs. Ryan and the children to the lieutenant's house.”

“Yes, that would help a great deal. Is that all right with you, Dee?” He tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, fighting back the pang of loss and longing that always surfaced when he saw her holding Connor. She'd made her peace with not having children, but there were times he still struggled. “I'll feel better knowing you're all with Annie.”

“That's more than all right. I think I've had enough adventures for one day.” Dee leaned against him for an instant, eyes closed. She sighed and stepped back. “We weren't able to telephone the house. Annie's likely worrying herself into a fine state by now. If we leave her to her own devices for too long, she's likely to come down here and take command. She's put them to work in her kitchen often enough, I don't think there's a man on the squad who wouldn't obey her orders. We should likely avoid making the men choose between her cooking and you.”

He smiled. “You're right. It wouldn't be a fair contest.”

“Gabe, I've got an idea.” Sam gestured at the sofa, his expression pleasant and carefully bland. A public face, designed to hide secrets from Mullaney and anyone who might be watching. “Send Libby and Alina with Dee. That would solve the immediate problem of making them wait until I could escort them home. We can work out the rest later.”