Page 100 of At Midnight Comes the Cry

“And it couldn’t be constructed, you know, narrower? To fit into a tube?”

“Not the ones I saw them working on. They were all a boxy shape.”

She had been looking around while he spoke, scanning for something that might catch her attention. And she found it. “A boxy shape.”

“Yeah.”

Ahead of them were a trio of stairs, one down to the museum andcultural center between two more heading up to the street. At the side of each stairwell, three boxes wrapped in sparkling paper and tied with elaborate bows were artfully stacked. Hadley pointed. “Like those Christmas gifts?”

8.

Flynn stared. “Jeeesus…” Then he shook his head. “It can’t be. It’s too obvious.”

“It’s not obvious at all. This time of year there are decorations everywhere. We clock them and forget them.” He lurched forward as if to sprint to the nearest pile. She caught his sleeve. “Be cool. We don’t want to scare anyone.”

Together, they strolled toward the faux presents. Hadley stood, back toward the party, while Flynn squatted in front of the trio. He gently picked one up. “There’s something in it.” He set it down and lifted another. “Crap! This has got something, too!” He looked up at her. “They couldn’t be, like, real, could they?”

She bent over and picked up the third. It had weight—not as much as she would have thought, but it definitely wasn’t filled with crumpled tissue, which would have been her guess. She slid her fingernail along a seam where the wrapping paper folded over itself, then tore a handful off.

Flynn bolted upright. “What are you doing? What if it’s engineered to go off when it’s unwrapped?”

“Why would it be?” She tugged at the ribbon. “Do you have a Swiss Army knife, Boy Scout?”

“Eagle Scout.” He jammed his hand in his front pocket and pulled out a knife. “This is stupid.” He pried the blade open and sliced through the ribbon. “Give it to me.”

He held it while she peeled the rest of the paper off. It was a plain white box, flapped on the top. She carefully opened the flaps to find wadded newspaper. She lifted the pieces out. “False alarm.”

The weight was just that, four of the same washer-shaped things she had seen available at the dollar store balloon counter, meant tokeep your birthday greeting from floating away. Clear postage tape fastened them to the inside bottom of the box. “It makes sense. The florist or whoever put these together doesn’t want them to go flying off in every direction if a pedestrian bumps into them.” She set it back down. “Did the other two weigh about the same?”

“Yeah.” Flynn squatted and helped her restack the boxes, sort-of-maybe hiding the now plain one from sight. “But it was a good idea. We should check the others just in case.”

The food was being served in earnest now, and people were abandoning the exhibit cases to line up at the carts and serving tables. The smell of brisket wafted through the air, and Hadley’s stomach growled again.

“Really?” Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Now?”

“Shut up.” She strode toward the other small pile of boxes. “Block me from view, okay?” She hunkered down and picked up the topmost “present.” Same as those on the other side. She set it on the floor and reached for the next one. She froze. “Flynn.”

His back was toward her. “What?” He turned around.

“This one is heavier. A lot heavier.” She stood up, legs suddenly shaky.

Flynn held out his hands. “Give it to me.”

She passed the box to him with the same care she would have used handing over a newborn. He lifted and lowered it an inch or two, feeling the heft. “Oh God.” He looked into her eyes. “We’ve got to open it. We’ve got to make sure.”

“I know.” Three minutes ago, she’d blithely assured him unwrapping the box wouldn’t trigger an explosion; now her hands trembled as she tore the paper.

“Knife in my right front pocket.”

As she slid her hand into his jeans, she had a flash of how the same gesture might have been so different, a playful touch, a whispered suggestion. “If this goes off—”

“It won’t go off,” he assured her.

“Because we’re just so lucky?”

He smiled at her. “I think we’re pretty damn lucky, yeah.”

She blew out a laugh, then opened the knife. “Ready?”