Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,51

her arms over her chest and glared as though the family members should be able to alter how the Hope City Marathon was organized. Torin watched the other members of the family hide their smiles and assumed the two moms were used to getting their way. He slid his arm around Erin’s waist and pulled her close. Leaning down, he whispered, “Fingers crossed, we’ll be together.”

She nodded, then whispered in return, “If I go first, you’ll easily be able to catch up to me. If you go first, you could just jog slowly until I can catch up to you.”

“Babe, I’d do anything for you, but I’m not sure I could find you in over thirty thousand runners.” He kissed her forehead before adding, “But then I’d sure as hell try.”

As the conversations turned to more pleasant topics, Torin could not help but think of the Celtic Cock, only a block away from the race. He knew the day would be filled with spectators coming into the pub and couldn’t help but be glad for the extra business. He just hoped that Maeve and his grandparents along with their other employees working would all stay safe.

Tucker Family Home

“Hell, Pop, they’ve got everything on here.”

Timothy leaned forward to look at the laptop that Marty had placed in his lap as he sat in his recliner. Marty bent from the side, explaining what he was looking at.

“Here’s the map of Hope City, and the red line you see that starts at War Memorial Park is where the racecourse is. It weaves all over the downtown streets for twenty-six miles, including the Inner Harbor and the HC Harbor by the docks.”

Timothy squinted, his eyes not being what they used to in his younger days. “Get me my reading glasses.”

Bob, sitting nearby, picked up the glasses from the end table and handed them to his dad. Timothy settled them on his face and followed Marty’s finger as he traced the red line on the screen. His lips curved and he nodded. “Well, fuckin’ hell, boys. This red line goes right by the Stepanov Warehouse.”

Bob’s forehead scrunched as he shook his head slowly. “Pop, I just don’t get it. I thought we were going to blow up the warehouse. What good does it do to shoot off something outside that won’t actually be big enough to hurt the building? Seems like a waste to me.”

“The waste is you, boy!” Timothy growled. “We can’t make nothing big enough to take down the building. And hell, if we did, the city would probably thank us since I figure they’ll want to tear it down to build some fancy high-rise. What we’re gonna do is make a statement.” Bob’s face was still scrunched in confusion. If Bob hadn’t looked so much like himself, Timothy would’ve sworn his ex-wife had hooked up with someone else because he could swear no son of his could be that dense. “We’ll set it off right in front of the Stepanov sign. It’ll be a big enough scare to stop the race. Anything bad that happens right there will make that property less valuable. It’ll always be talked about as the place where the big race was interrupted. The city will have to sit on that property and not do anything with it because it’ll be… it’ll be…”

“Tainted,” Marty said.

“Yeah, that’s right, tainted.” Timothy nodded, then leaned back in his chair again. “Now, we just gotta figure out the how and the where.”

Bob had moved to the other side of Marty and was staring at the map. “Look at that. It says they’ve got nu-tri-ent stations.”

“They have certain places set up where the runners can be handed a cup of water or some food,” Marty explained.

Bob’s brows leapt upward. “Food? They get to run and eat at the same time?”

“Just stuff they can carry. Probably things like protein bars and shit like that.”

“Why don’t we put it near the warehouse close to somewhere like that? When it goes off, there will be a bunch of people who’ll hear it and that’ll stop the race. They’ll all run over to see what happened,” Bob suggested. “We just gotta be careful to put ‘em far enough away that it draws attention to the warehouses and stops the race but no one gets hurt.”

Timothy flipped his feet down in his recliner and slowly turned his head toward both sons before looking back at the map on the computer screen. An idea began to solidify in his