The women remained silent again for several minutes. Traffic was terrible, and Ruth may have been concentrating on driving rather than talking. He wished they would speak again. And he wished this traffic was moving faster. Circling above their car made him feel like a vulture.
When they picked up their conversation, he wanted to get close again. Landing on the roof gently, he was able to hear every word perfectly. He wanted to hear more about this danger.
“I hope this threat doesn’t last forever. I want to be able to relax in my own home.”
That was Kizzy talking. He wondered where her real home was. Dante had picked her up for the basketball game at a house in Brookline, someplace he described as a big brick house. Perhaps she had an apartment in someone else’s home. It struck him as odd that he didn’t know, but he’d have to let it go—for now. He wanted answers about this threat first.
“And I hope I don’t have to stay more than a day or two. My dear fiancé can’t boil water. He’ll miss my cooking.”
Kizzy chuckled. “I’m sure Gordon would miss you for more than that.”
“Oh yeah. I’ll miss him for that too.”
They laughed.
The traffic finally moved again. They made their way through Kenmore Square, heading toward Brookline. He imagined that being the daughter of a doctor, she may have grown up in one of the pricey mansions on the elite side of town. A big brick mansion.
Finally, just over the Boston-Brookline town line, they headed down a tree-lined side street with beautiful old homes. Some brick, some stone, all traditional. None were palatial or on acres of property. Pulling into the driveway of a modest brick colonial with pristine landscaping, they shut off the engine and got out. It was a home—probably three or four bedrooms, in contrast with some of the huge mansions he’d seen farther from the city.
Instead of going to the front door, they walked down the driveway and entered a side door. There was some kind of panel beside the door, and Kizzy poked a few buttons. Probably an alarm or keyless entry—or both.
After checking the perimeter, Noah perched in a tree overlooking the back porch. He hoped they’d take advantage of the beautiful weather and sit outside so he could eavesdrop some more. He wanted more information about this threat.
Almost as helpful, the kitchen window was open about halfway, and they gathered there. A man joined them with a hearty greeting.
“How are my girls?”
Unless he was Charlie and they were Charlie’s Angels, he guessed the guy must be their father.
“Hi, Daddy,” Ruth said.
“Kizzy? Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Just a little preoccupied.”
“I hope you’re not still mooning over that firefighter. Did you break up with him like I told you to?”
A moment later, the sound of a car stopping out front drew his attention, but he wasn’t moving from his spot until he heard what she had to say.
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I told him I had a family situation and that I wouldn’t be available for a while.”
Sounding frustrated, Kizzy’s father said, “I told you a firefighter is not a good choice.” Then after blowing out a deep breath, he added, “At least you put him off. That way, you can let him down easy.”
“What if I don’t want to let him down?”
Silence followed, and Noah tried to picture what his old man’s face would look like when one of his brothers defied “orders.”Ugh. Not good.
“Speaking ofthe real threathere,” Ruth interjected, “they’re still in the area, but our wards and shields are holding them off.”
“Can you detect their presence when you’re inside the wards, Ruth?” their father asked.
“No, I can’t. The wards are strong enough to shield us from them, but they could be at the front door this minute and I wouldn’t know it.”
Noah flitted to the roof where he could still hear the people inside and peeked over the top of the house to see what was going on out front.
