Page 91 of Wild Oblivion

Sirens drew near. Red and blue lights flickered as patrol units screeched to the scene. An ambulance and a fire truck weren’t far behind. Soon the place crawled with first responders.

I asked Jack, “What time do you have?”

“A quarter past midnight.”

I looked at my watch. It was running a few minutes slow. That seemed odd. Maybe it stopped for a few minutes during the blast. But it seemed to be working now.

Sheriff Daniels arrived, and I filled him in on the situation. He thought this was related to the other bombings at first. Understandable.

Paris Delaney and her news crew showed up. She had plenty of questions. I made a brief statement, playing it off as an industrial explosion, but assuring there was no cause for alarm.

We wrapped up at the scene and headed back to the station. We filled out after-action reports in the conference room, then I took Giselle to her apartment. I parked in the visitor lot, then escorted her into the lobby and up to her fourth-floor apartment. At her door, I said, "Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded, her eyes misting up again. "I'm just glad I got as much time with him as I did. He was the only family I had left.”

A sympathetic frown tugged my lips. "You’ve got us. You know how to get in touch with me if you need anything. I didn’t know him long, but he was a good man. We’ll miss him.”

Giselle nodded again. "Thank you for everything." She gave me a hug. When we broke apart, she said, "What are you going to do with the crystal?”

"I don't think that's something anybody needs to fool with, wouldn't you agree?"

She nodded. "You think it really could have worked?”

I shrugged. "I guess we'll never know.”

We said our goodbyes, then I made my way back down to the parking lot and hopped into the Porsche. On the way home, I stopped by James’s house to check on the status of the repairs.

48

The tile had been set, and the coffee table put back in place. Juan and Jesus cleaned up the place. The workmanship was flawless. The tiles were smooth and level. Once in place, the mismatch wasn’t as obvious. Covered by the coffee table, it wasn’t noticeable at first glance.

I locked up and left, then jogged around the corner to the Porsche. The neighborhood was quiet, not a soul stirring. I drove back to theAvventura. Jack had gotten a ride home from the station with one of the deputies.

It was late, and I was ready for bed. I checked my voicemail. Theunknowncaller from earlier hadn’t left a message. It could have been anybody, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

I put the Vrilkristall in a nightstand drawer and crawled into my rack. I’d figure out what to do with it later. It had been safe all these years in a box at the bank. Maybe that’s whereit belonged. I didn’t know if that was von Markov or his grandson. I guess it really didn’t matter. The skeptic in me didn’t want to believe. The dreamer in me wondered about possibilities.

I dozed off, dreaming of mad scientists and time travel.

The morning came way too soon. Amber rays pierced the blinds.

I had just peeled open my eyes and wiped away the sleep when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached a sleepy hand for it and glanced at the screen.

Unknown.

With dread, I took the call.

“Good morning, Deputy,” that terrible, familiar voice said. “That was some night you had. I saw you on TV. Another explosion. Do I have competition?” With excitement, he said, “Do I have a copycat?”

“Not exactly.”

"I really don't know how to feel about that. You know what they say. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

"You're not Mozart. You're not creating a masterpiece."

"Oh, but I am. This one is going to be my biggest one yet. Call it a symphony of destruction."

I wasn't amused. "Look, I think we've all had enough destruction lately. How about you think of a more positive way to impact the world? You might find it more satisfying."