“No, of course not. Everyone handles grief differently. But what’s got you all worked up?”

“Well, I was in our closet pulling out the shoes he never wore. He’d buy shoes, wear them once, and then just throw them back in the corner. Anyway, I pulled out a pair from the corner and noticed a bump in the carpet. I tried to smooth it out, because we’ve had trouble with this carpet ever since we put it in last year, remember?”

“Right, right. So what was it?” Riley asked, trying to move her along. He remembered Sal telling him once that Meg tended to ramble when she was upset.

“So, I try to smooth it out, but it won’t smooth. I feel the bump and realize there’s something under the carpet. It was a key, Riley. A key to a safe-deposit box. And along with the key were three small pieces of paper with what looks like Arabic writing on them.”

Riley felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He rushed to the table. “Meg, I’m here with some friends. I think they need to hear what you might have to say. Do you mind if I put you on speakerphone?”

Meg hesitated for a moment. “Do you have to? I mean, this is personal stuff and…”

“Please, Meg. This could be very, very important.”

“Okay, okay. But first I need to know. Was Sal caught up in anything bad… you know, before he was… before he passed away?”

“I’ll tell you what. When I get back to Denver, I’ll come over and tell you everything I know. Right now, I need to hear what you’ve discovered. So, speakerphone?”

“Okay.”

Riley pressed the button that changed the mode of the cell phone. “Meg, I’m here with Jim Hicks, Scott Ross, and Khadi Faroughi.”

Scott said, “Hey, Meg.”

Khadi said, “Hi, Meg. I’m so sorry about your loss.”

Hicks said nothing.

“So, Meg, you were telling me about a key to a safe-deposit box that you found and some Arabic notes.”

The others turned to Riley, shock on their faces. He nodded to them and gestured with his hand for them to keep it cool.

“Hi, everyone. So… well, I took this key to our bank yesterday. I’ve been up all night with this, Riley. I was trying to decide whether I should call you or not.”

“You did the right thing. So you went to the bank…”

“Right, I went to the bank-I figured Sal wouldn’t have minded and all-and they took me back to the safe-deposit boxes. The key fit one of them, and they pulled it out and put me in a private room. I’m so glad they did, because… I mean, I couldn’t believe what I found.”

“What was it?” Riley asked.

“Money. More than $250,000 in cash. There was also some Mexican money-you know, pesos and stuff-and euros. There was also a… a…”

“Go on,” Khadi encouraged.

“There was a gun-a loaded gun. Why would he have a loaded gun and thousands of dollars in a safe-deposit box, Riley?” The pace of her words was steadily increasing.

“Keep calm, Meg. Was there anything else?” Riley asked.

“A couple of papers. They look like sketches or something. One of them was of Platte River Stadium.”

“Do you have the papers with you?” Scott called out. “Did they have any writing on them?”

“Riley, what’s going on?” Meg asked, her fear growing even greater.

“Please, Meg, I promise I’ll explain everything later. Do you have the papers with you?”

“They’re right here.”

“Are there any markings on the Platte River Stadium drawing?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, there are some Xs… Let me see… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven Xs. Wait a second! There were seven bombers-that’s what they said on the news about Platte River Stadium the night Sal was killed. I know because he was killed by the seventh bomber!” Franticness had returned and replaced the fear in Meg’s voice. “Riley, was Sal somehow involved in the bombings?”

“Calm down, Meg,” Riley said.

“Calm down? Don’t you tell me to calm down! How can I calm down? Was Sal some sort of suicide bomber who killed himself at Platte River Stadium? Is that what you’re saying?” Meg was shouting now.

“Meg! Stop!” Riley yelled. Meg stopped talking, but her shallow, rapid breathing could be heard clearly through the phone’s speaker. “First of all, promise me that when you hang up this phone you will gently pick up Alessandra and the two of you will go next door to Jill’s house. Do you promise me?”

Hicks was motioning for Riley to get on with it.

Riley waved him off. “Meg, promise me!”

“Okay, Riley,” Meg said softly. She was crying now, and her words came between sobs.

“Now, I’m sorry, but I need to know if there were any other papers in there.”

“Yes, I’m looking at one now. It’s got a circle in the middle, then lines going off the circle. They look like… I don’t know… like spokes or something.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Rose Bowl,” Scott said to Riley.

“Rose Bowl? Are you at the PFL Cup, Riley? Is someone planning to-?”

“Never mind that. Is there anything else on the paper?”

Riley heard a new note of icy resolve in Meg’s voice. She spoke rapidly and matter-of-factly. “There are four small Xs on the paper. One near the end of each of the lines. Each X has two letters next to it-the first has CC, the second AL, the third MT, and the fourth TL. Then there’s a pointy arrow-like a pyramid with no bottom. And then right in the middle is a square with some pointy-ended rectangles jutting out the top. The only other thing is a big X down below the square, about halfway between the square and the bottom of the last line.”

“Is there anything else? Anything at all?” Riley asked.

“No, that’s it. Please, Riley, please tell me what’s going on.” Her resolve quickly disappeared again into fear and sorrow.

“I have to go now. You’re going to have to trust me that I’ll give you all the answers soon. Now go get Aly, and go to your neighbors’.”

“Please, Riley…”

“Meg, I’m sorry. Now do what I asked you!” Riley hung up the phone feeling like a total jerk for speaking to her that way. He turned to Scott.

But Scott was already zoned out.

Scott’s eyes were closed as he brought up a mental image of the paper Meg Ricci had just described.

A square with pointy rectangles… missiles?… He could be planning to hit a missile silo, but what good would that do?… Overtaking a missile silo and launching-impossible; that stuff only happens in old Frank Zagarino movies.

Xs with initials: CC, AL, MT, and TL. AL and MT could be state abbreviations, but what about the others? “Khadi, start googling combinations of those letter pairs,” Scott called out of his haze, and Khadi quickly went to work on the Toughbook.

So, scratch missiles… Pointy rectangles… Washington Monument… skyscrapers… turrets… turrets coming out of a square… or towers… Yeah, towers out of a square… a castle… Yeah, okay, good call; he’s probably going to hit one of the many southern California castles.

Scott took a deep pull on his Yoo-hoo without opening his eyes. Focus, focus! A church? Unlikely… and it doesn’t have the layout for a broadcasting zone… What if it is a castle… maybe a replica of some kind?… A castle next to a pyramid… Las Vegas? No, that dead border coyote points to Hakeem being in L.A., not Nevada… Is it a movie studio?

“Somebody call Tara and tell her to have her minions check for a studio lot that might have a castle and a pyramid on it,” Scott said as he blindly tossed his phone toward anyone who would catch it. “Speed dial 6!”

But a studio isn’t big enough… Not a pyramid… maybe a tent… A castle next to a tent? Sounds like a So-Cal used car lot… Not a tent… Maybe the pyramid’s a mountain… A castle next to a mountain?

Abruptly Scott’s eyes opened. “Oh no,” he said out loud. “Khadi, give me the computer!”

Scott typed a couple of words, tap-tap-tapped the backspace, corrected his typing. Everyone gathered around the screen, then gasped as they saw what he had brought up.