“Yes. Did Ralphie –?”

“He told me. He’s upset, thinks he hurt your feelings,” Buddy interrupted.

“He didn’t hurt my feelings. I was worried I hurt his.”

“No, he gets what you were trying to do. He overreacted, as usual.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

Buddy changed the subject. “Are you really movin’ to Greece?”

“Not anymore,” I answered.

Silence for a second then, teasing, “Damn, there went my vacation plans.”

I smiled into the phone, relief rolling over me for a brief shining moment then my smile faded and I said, “I’ve got bad news.”

More silence then I told him about the gallery.

Then he shouted, “What?”

I winced.

I heard him cover the mouthpiece and even though it was covered, I heard Ralphie’s shrill scream.

Buddy came back to me. “Ralphie, YoYo and me’ll meet you there.”

“See you soon,” I said and we disconnected.

I dressed in my Lucky jeans, a slimfit, long-sleeved, white t-shirt, the black belt with the rose buckle and motorcycle boots that Daisy, Roxie, Tod and Stevie gave me. I left my hair long to dry in crazy, natural waves and ringlets and did a half-assed pass with blusher, shadow and mascara (though, I spent more time on my lip gloss, you had to be careful with lip gloss, even when you were about to view your burned out building, if you didn’t you’d look like a clown).

Hector and I climbed into the Bronco and headed into town.

We hit LoDo and I saw Hector avoid the Nightingale garage which would be the perfect parking opportunity.

“You can park in the garage,” I told him as he navigated early morning downtown traffic.

His eyes came to me briefly then went back to the road.

“I’m thinkin’ you’ve scaled enough mountains for now, mamita,” he muttered and his casual kindness made that happy glow grow a smidgen wider.

He drove until he found a spot on the street three blocks from the gallery and he parallel parked.

Then Hector and I walked hand-in-hand toward the gallery.

As we approached, I saw the crowd forming a U in front of what was left of Art. Traffic had been diverted, there were barricades up in a wide arc in front of the gallery, the fire trucks and police cars were still there and people were standing around the barricades in the street.

Without apology, Hector shoved his way through the crowd to the barricades and walked right through.

A uniformed officer looked at him and gave him a chin lift. Hector and I walked into the opened area where firemen and police were milling about.

I stared at my building. The brick on the outside was blackened, the windows had shattered, the inside was blackened too and water was everywhere.

Hector walked us to Detective Marker who was standing watching us approach. We got close and stopped.

“Jimmy,” Hector said, dropping my hand but his arm slid around my shoulders and he pulled me into his side.

“Hector,” Detective Marker greeted then his eyes came to me. “Sadie.”

“Detective Marker,” I replied and looked back at my gallery.

My heart sunk at the same time my body sagged despondently into Hector’s side. In response, his arm curled around my neck and tightened.

“Donny Balducci’s a firebug,” Detective Marker remarked, his gaze never leaving the building.

“Yeah,” Hector agreed, his eyes also locked on what was left of Art.

My head tilted back to look at Hector.

His face was stony.

My gaze drifted to Detective Marker.

He looked a weird mixture of angry and resigned. In other words, he had what could only be called a Cop Look.

Then Hector started talking again.

“Jack’s sending the tapes by courier to the Station. We got them on the cameras, Jack saw ‘em break in and called it in. Said he saw Donny with the gasoline either Marty or Ricky with him, he didn’t get a good look at the second guy but he knew it was a Balducci. They made fast work of it. The place was ablaze and they were gone before anyone got here.”

“I hope its Ricky,” Detective Marker replied, fishing his phone out of his suit jacket.

“Yeah,” Hector said. “I’m thinkin’ arson is probably a violation of his bond.”

I was no longer listening. A thin film of red had descended over my eyes and there was a buzzing in my ears.

My sagging body went tight and I put my hand on Hector’s stomach, pulled slightly away and looked up at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Hector’s chin dipped and his eyes came to mine.

“Parceling out the bad news, mamita,” he said softly. “You can only take so much at once.”

I blinked at him and then took in both Hector and Detective Marker.

“Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling, something strange happening to me.

It was not my weird, warm, happy glow (not even f**king close).

It was not that hot, hard, painful knot in my chest.

It was something else altogether.

When I had both their attention, I kept talking. “First, for weeks, all the f**king Balduccis call me, stop by the gallery only when I’m alone, show up at my apartment day and night, doing crazy shit, saying crazy things and freaking me out. Then Ricky f**king Balducci breaks in, beats me up and rapes me. Then Harvey f**king Balducci assaults me and tries to kidnap me. Then Marty f**king Balducci threatens me over the phone and calls me the c-word, twice. Now, Donny f**king Balducci has burned down my gallery?”

I was shouting, people were looking at me and I didn’t care.

“You have got to be shitting me!” I yelled.

Hector got in my line of sight.

“Mamita, calm down,” he muttered.

I looked up at him and grabbed onto his tee, fisting it in my fingers and giving him a shake (well, trying to, but he didn’t move, just his tee did).

“You be calm! I’m pissed right, the f**k, off!” I screamed.

“This is gonna end, soon, Sadie, trust me.”

“Yeah, it’s going to end soon. I’m gonna hunt those motherfuckers down and –”

Hector’s hand came over my mouth and I finished my shouted threat so it sounded like, “Kff thff.”

Hector shuffled me back, arm still tight around my neck, hand over my mouth until we were away from Detective Marker and everyone.