Coaster (15 page)

The fundraiser she and Elena
were planning was coming together very well. Diana had managed to secure several members of her family to not only give generously financially, but to also attend the event. The chance to see the aristocracy up close would be a huge draw for the event.

Working together
had deepened the friendship between Elena and herself. They would talk for hours, not just about the plans for the party, but on subjects like how to survive after losing your children, their love of London weather, and even their favorite childhood books. It was a simple and warm connection that Diana valued immensely.

After a long day of meetings and planning,
Diana was pulling into her driveway. She thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. As the gate opened she pulled forward and was distracted by an incoming phone call. She pressed ignore and went through the gate towards the house. She parked the car under the awning and gathered her things. The phone began ringing again and she answered, "Hello, Elena. I'm sorry I just got home."

Again Diana saw something out of the corner of her eye a
nd paused. She thought,
what's that?
Then returned to her call. "No, I'm sorry Elena, I thought I saw something."

Diana stopped walking and listened to
Elena while looking back at her car.
Bloody hell, I forgot the agenda and guest list for the fundraiser.
"Okay, Elena, just send me those notes in an email. Yes, you too. Cheers."

She put her phone in her bag and
moved back to the car, clicked the key fob, and retrieved the file. When she turned around James was standing in front of her.

"James." Diana's voice caught. "Holy shit, you frightened me. What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

James didn't speak just lifted up his hand.

Diana's breath stopped for a moment.
She was staring at a gun. "James, what are you doing with that?"

"I'm going to kill you, Diana."

"You're going to what...don't be mad. Put that away and get out of here or I'm going to call the police. And my father." Diana knew the last phrase was salt in the wound, but she was irritated by James' ridiculous behavior.

"No you won't. You're not going to call anyone because you're going to be dead."

"Dead? Are you daft?" Diana scoffed. "Do you know what would happen to you if you hurt me?"

"It won't matter what happens to me. Because it can't be worse than what's happening to me now. I've lost everything, Di. Everything I worked so hard for has slipped away. People treat me like a pariah. No one will take my calls. They revoked my membership at the club. I live in a flat that is barely big enough for rodents
, let alone for me. So, what could happen to me that would be worse than that?" He moved a step closer.

In that moment Diana saw his eyes and the incredulity turned slowly to fear.
Oh my God, he's going to shoot me.

James laughed. "I see the severity of the situation has finally sunk in, hasn't it dear?"

"James, I'm sorry. I can make it better. We can talk about money. Or my father, he can help."

"No, it's too late. No way to come back from the fall I've taken. All because I liked to get some ars
e on the side. Really, your like has been doing that for ages. I don't have anywhere to go from here. Since I've fallen, you're coming with me." He pointed the gun at Diana's chest.

"No, James!" Diana screamed
and stepped back.

The gun fired
. Diana waited for the impact, the pain, or death. But it didn't happen. Her eyes opened and she looked at James as he crumpled to the ground. The gun had exploded and his hand was gone. He had pieces of blood and tissue all over him and there was blood running down his temple as well.

"James? Oh no." Diana ran towards the house screaming.

The maid came out, "My lady, what's...."  She saw James lying in the driveway and ran to Diana. "Madam, are you hurt? I heard a shot. Did he shoot you?"

"No, the gun misfired. His hand is gone and I thi
nk something went into his head. He's bleeding. Call someone for help. Now!"

Diana ran back to James, taking off her coat and putting it over him. He was barely conscious and calling her name. "James, t
he gun didn't fire right. You're hurt. I've called an ambulance. Just sit still."

"Diana...Di...I'm...sorry..
.." James voice was quiet.

"I know. I'm sorry this has happened. But why would you want to kill me?"

"I didn't know what else to do. I was ruined. You ruined me."

Diana heard the sirens and ran down to the gate to let them in. It took a few minutes and when they reached James he was barely able to speak. The paramedics worked on him. "Ma'am these are serious injuries. The gun seemed to have sent
shrapnel into his body. There are internal injuries. We've got to get him to the hospital."

Diana stood up looking at James
's pale face as they strapped him onto the gurney. "I'll come to the hospital?"

"Of course, m
a'am." They loaded James and backed down the drive siren blaring.

Diana
had followed them in her car. Now seven hours later, she was driving home. James was badly hurt. The gun was old and had not been maintained well so it had not only misfired, but had exploded sending small pieces of the gun into James's head, chest, and leg. The metal that went into his brain had essentially scrambled some of the grey matter leaving the doctors concerned he would ever be the same again. He'd spent three hours in surgery as they removed the other pieces of metal from his body. They had tried to save his hand, but it was too badly destroyed so they amputated it. He was in a coma and the doctors said only time would tell if he would wake up.

Diana walked into the quiet house. There was a plate with a sandwich sitting on the table
, but she wasn't the least bit hungry. Making her way to her bedroom she dropped her purse and fell down on her bed. She was asleep in seconds.

                                                                      ****

La Rosa was sitting in the investigation room going through more files that had arrived from the corporation. She was narrowing things down and instead of hundreds of files there were only twenty suspects who looked like they may be worth investigating. She spent the rest of the hour finishing the last of the task and then she picked up the phone. The call to the FBI was brief and satisfactory. La Rosa knew that she needed their facilities to get the information quicker. Happily, Agent Gordon was impressed by her work and was going to meet her at his office this afternoon. Perhaps she'd have some answers then.

                                                                      ****

Roger was washing his car in the driveway when the pizza guy walked up. "Hey, I didn't order a pizza."

"Are you Roger Merit?"

"Yeah."

The guy held out a paper and Roger took it.

"You've been served."

"Wait, what? Served what?"

But the guy was down the driveway and in his car before Roger could catch him. Roger opened the folder and saw legal papers. "Damn it." He headed inside dialing his cell phone. "Fernando, it's Roger. Yes, I was just served. What does this mean?"

"It means
they are going to bring you in for a felony arraignment. The subpoena is to have you testify in court." Fernando lowered his voice. "Roger, don't talk to anyone, okay? You may start getting phone calls and people coming by. Just go in the house and lock the doors and I'll be there in an hour."

Roger did what he was told and headed inside after wiping down his car and pulling it into the garage. He closed the blinds and poured himself a drink. Closing his eyes he felt his heart beating faster. He hoped Fernando was as good as he seemed to be. He really didn't want to go to prison.

             
                                                        ****

Joseph woke up on the floor again. His head was foggy and he heard the phone ringing. It always seemed to be ringing. He had been dreaming about Rachel. She was a little girl playing in the sand and he'd been helping her build a sand castle. Then the castle blew up and Rachel was blown up with it. Joseph felt his face and the tears that he'd been dreaming about were on his cheek. He pushed himself up to sitting and felt the empty feeling in his heart that had become constant since losing Rachel, and now Clara. He wished he could see Rachel or that Clara would come back home. He was wishing for something that couldn't happen because Rachel was dead. What he wished with Clara probably wouldn't happen because Joseph was sure that Clara had gone crazy. She was gone and he was going to have to make it on his own now. That fact he wasn't sure he could do. He was so used to life with Clara, he wasn't at all sure he could survive by himself. He got up and made it to the phone.

"Hello."

"Joseph?"

"Hello, Clara."

"Are you doing okay?"

"No, I'm not. Are you?"

Clara took a deep breath. "I'm better. I'm planning on coming home tomorrow. Would that be okay?"

Joseph didn't answer.

"Joseph, is it okay if I come home?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Whatever you want, Clara."

Clara cleared her throat. "Joseph, I need to ask you something."

"What?"

"Have you been drinking since I've been gone? Be honest."

"No."

"Well what have you been doing?"

Now Joseph's anger flared. "You know what
Clara; if you wanted to know what I was doing then you should have been here. I have been holding it together and you've been off traipsing around the country living in a fantasy world. How fair is that? I dealt with Rachel's service and the kids' stuff. And you know what, I would've liked to not have done that alone. I didn't expect I'd have to bury my daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren without my wife, and her mother, being there. But I did it. So now you want to talk to me and want everything to be all right because you're ready to come home and face things now? Well, excuse me if I'm not thrilled and excited to see you." His breath and his words died off.

Clara didn't say anything.

There was a long silence.

Then Joseph said, "Clara, you can come home. I understand. I mean, I think I do. But all this is too hard alone. Please, come home."

"I will, Joseph. I'll be home tomorrow night. I'll call with my flight number."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

                                                                      ****

The man slept all day. He'd only woken up once when he heard sirens coming down his street. When the loud shrieking stopped he bolted out of bed to the window to see if they were there for him. Once he saw it was a fire truck at a house down the block he laid back down on the bed. His heart pounded for a good fifteen minutes. After it slowed he fell back to sleep.

                                                                      ****

Chapter Twenty

La Rosa had spent most of the afternoon downtown at the FB
I office. She'd met with Agent Gordon and explained her theory to him. They had both been thinking along the same lines, but the FBI had just begun their list so her footwork was a big help. La Rosa spent an hour with Agent Gordon playing through her idea that whoever set the bomb must have worked there. For some reason Agent Gordon was inclined to work with her. They started running through the database of the twenty names of the park employees she had narrowed down. It was gonna take a day or so to get back the results so they agreed to meet then.

When La Rosa came out of the building she had a message from Roger. She listened as she walked to her car.
She stopped walking when she heard that he'd been served a subpoena. It seemed that the corporation was going to move forward to prosecute Roger for not preventing the deaths at the park.

La Rosa dialed his number
, but it went straight to voicemail. "Roger, its Detective La Rosa. I got your message. Listen, I'm sorry to hear that things are going this direction. Call me when you get this message."

La R
osa called Kincaid. "Hey, I just got done with the FBI. Listen we have to get out to the corporation and find out what's going on. Roger Merit just got served a subpoena. We were right, they're gonna make him take the fall."

Kincaid paused and
then said, "I hate it when we're right."

                                                                      ****

Clara felt the plane's telltale drop as it began its descent. She finished the wine she had splurged on and sighed. It would be good to be home even though the smell of Rachel's house was still lingering on her clothes. She missed Joseph and something had told her she needed to come home. Clara was pretty sure that Joseph was drinking again. How could he not be?