Thirteen
Smoke still drifted in fragments against the deep blue of the morning sky when the bomb squad’s investigative team moved into the wreckage. It was both easier and harder to navigate than the safe house had been. This one lacked the unstable overhead beams, since the roof had been completely destroyed in the explosion, but there were more pieces of wreckage to sift through this time, with hidden hot pockets that threatened to flare anew when uncovered.
The Trip boys, Bad and Bum, had been blown from the doorstep across the street, making a messy landing on the hood of one car and the roof of another car. Screens now shielded curious onlookers from their remains.
Not too surprisingly, their initial inspection failed to turn up any fatalities beyond Bates’ two boys. The door had t
