by Sarah Holman
“Everyone, I would like you to meet Toby Jordan. Some of you may have met him briefly during our last case. He is here to brief us on our next case.”
Toby looked around and cleared his throat. He stepped into the middle of the room and cleared his throat again. “Thank you…umm…Thomas. We have a…umm…interesting case that the bureau is investigating, but they want you to help us.” He paused and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “As you may have seen on the news, there is a umm…situation that has developed in Franklin, Tennessee.”
“That’s where they’ve had the random bombings for the last two weeks,” Kate supplied. She had watched the news and had been coming up with theories about what kind of bomb materials were being used based on the little information being shared. Homemade with low-powered explosives was about as much as she knew. It probably utilized nails or something like that to cause damage. She guessed they had been made out of easily accessible materials since they hadn’t been able to trace the bomber yet.
“That’s right,” Toby said, wagging a finger at Kate. “Two bombs have been delivered to houses disguised as postal packages; one went off with a tripwire stretched across the road. Just an hour ago, another went off at a…umm…post office.”
“It’s causing terror in the city.” Logan pressed her ball between her hands.
“The police say that it’s random,” Patrick said, his chin resting on his fisted hand.
Again, Toby pushed the glasses up on his nose. “Not as random as they’re telling the public. We think we’ve found the connection.”
Kate leaned forward.
“McGregor College of Trades. It is a Christian trade school. All the victims were connected to the school in some way or another.” Toby fumbled with the control for the TV and a cartoon show started playing. “That wasn’t my…ummm…” He looked around. Kim glided forward and pressed a button, and a face appeared.
Kate glanced over at Patrick. He had a hand over his mouth but his eyes were dancing. She quickly had to do the same. Toby was comical, but she wouldn’t laugh, which meant she couldn’t look at Patrick.
“This is Jasmine Kline. She’s a forty-five-year-old mother and wife of one of the professors who teaches some of the advanced courses for the…ummm…power plant technology.”
“She survived,” Kim interjected. “The bombs have all been of crude homemade construction with nails used to increase the damage done. She’s still in the hospital but she will make a full recovery.”
“Minus an arm,” Toby said, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. “And extensive scarring.”
Kate wanted to remain serious, but it was hard. Toby’s presentation made it difficult. She tried to focus on the fact that she had been right about the bombs.
“The second victim was riding his bike near the campus. He was a twenty-three-year-old senior from the school, Edward Dennison,” Thomas picked up, glancing at Toby.
Toby fumbled for a moment and then an image appeared on the screen. “This bomb was of the same type but better built and more powerful, which is why…umm…it turned out to be lethal. Two days ago, there was an explosion at another house, killing the family dog and leaving Professor Julian in critical condition. It’s unsure if he will recover.”
A picture of a dog appeared onscreen. Kate nearly burst out laughing but valiantly cut herself off, producing a weird snort. She wasn’t sure why it was so hard. After all, the thought of people dying was not humorous in the least. She had to focus on that and not the mistakes that Toby was making.
“That wasn’t supposed to be in there,” Toby said, pushing his glasses up again.
She glanced at Patrick and instantly realized her mistake. She faked a cough to cover her laughter, and Patrick followed suit.
“Do you two have a cold?” Thomas asked, glaring.
“No, sir,” Kate said, trying to get a grip on herself. How could she be laughing at a time like this? Sure, Toby was funny, but she needed to control herself. She couldn’t look at Patrick.
“Sorry, Thomas.” Patrick folded his hands behind his back. “It was my fault.”
Thomas nodded and returned his attention to Toby.
Toby glanced between Kate and Patrick and then he cleared his throat. “This morning, a package at a post office exploded, killing…ummm…a postal worker.”
“A partial address was found and we think it was headed for one of the chaplains,” Thomas added.
“Do we have a lead on a suspect?” Brian asked.
Toby looked around the room and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Thomas stepped forward. “That’s why Toby is here. He has created a profile. He has a special gift for being able to put together profiles of criminals. He’ll be working with us on this case. Understandably, everyone wants this case solved as quickly as possible and with an airtight case against the perpetrator. We can’t make any mistakes, and we can’t tip our hand. We don’t know how much material he has and we don’t want him to go out in a blaze of glory.”
“It seems to me he could have an unlimited supply of material,” Kate said.
“She’s right.” Toby’s head bobbed and his glasses wiggled down his nose. “The kind of bomb he makes takes some knowledge, skill, and patience, but the ingredients can be found at hardware and grocery stores. The perpetrator probably could have found instructions for building it online.”
“Now there’s a cheerful thought,” Brian said. “Remind me never to let my son on the internet. It isn’t bad enough all the inappropriate junk he might come across, now he has to deal with avoiding bomb-making sites.”
Thomas cleared his throat. “Toby, tell us who we’re looking for.”
“We are looking for a male, most likely Caucasian or Middle-Eastern, well educated, probably from a broken home. He will have some connection to the school. It could be that he was kicked out or he had a parent he felt spent too much time there. He could also have been abused by a student or professor there. He will also be someone who likes to keep to himself. It’s also highly likely he comes from a religious background of one or another.”
Thomas again cleared his throat. “As I said, Toby has a gift for this thing. He’s ninety-nine percent accurate in his guesses. The department trusts him and so do I. Patrick and Brian, you are going to go in as potential students for McGregor.”
“Do I get to wear a hat?” Brian asked.
Thomas rolled his eyes but didn’t even look Brian’s direction. “Kim will be returning in her role as Patrick’s girlfriend to keep communication lines open.”
Kate glanced at Patrick, but his focus was on Thomas. She thought back to the first time she had seen Patrick and Kim. They had been walking hand in hand in the snow of her old campus. They had been undercover. However, for some reason, it bugged her that they would be playing a romantic role.
“Toby will be at the headquarters with Kim and me and help process the information that we bring in. Kate and Logan, both of you are going undercover to a church where several faculty members and students of the college attend.”
Kate nodded, but her insides twisted. Going undercover at a church? It seemed so wrong.
Thomas crossed his arms and looked around the room. “We know the connections between the bombings, but the public doesn’t. As far as they’re concerned, all the bombings are random and they don’t know if they might be next. It’s up to us to put an end to this, hopefully before anyone else is hurt.”
While she still felt sick about the thought of going undercover at a church, she pushed those feelings aside. They needed to help Franklin feel safe again and give closure to families by putting this creep behind bars. Mentally, she pictured a forty-year-old, overweight man who was bitter about life and the way things had turned out for him. Of course, that didn’t fit the profile.
“Everyone, come get your mission identity files and then we need to head out,” Thomas said. “We want to get there and get this over with. Remember, Christmas is coming. We don�
��t want people to be freaking out over the holidays; it’s bad for the economy.”
Kate swallowed a chuckle. It wouldn’t be right to let it out, but it seemed funny that Thomas would be thinking about the economy when there were lives at stake. She ventured a glance at Patrick and his sparkling eyes told her that he was thinking the same thing.
Eighteen Again
Tuesday, December 1 2:00PM
Patrick pulled his earbuds out and stretched. “Are you sure it’s best that the public doesn’t know that there is a connection between the victims?” His eyes once again glanced around the shabby apartment that would be his and Brian’s home for the duration of this case.
Thomas shrugged. “It isn’t my decision. I’m overseeing the undercover side of this investigation. As far as all the law enforcement agencies are concerned, keeping that fact to ourselves gives us an advantage.” He scrolled through something on his phone.
“I’ve been watching the local newscasts and reading up on social media. People are scared about this and I understand why. They have no idea where this creep is going to strike next.”
Thomas lifted his gaze to meet Patrick’s. “Then we had better do our job and do it well.”
“Speaking of which, what do you think?” Brian said, entering the room strutting like a model.
“I don’t think Jamie will like it,” Patrick said, stroking his chin as if seriously thinking about the spiked hair, superhero T-shirt, and tattered jeans.
“Isn’t it a little too…early 2000s?” Thomas asked.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be just about to graduate from high school and from a poor family. Of course I’m going to have a style that doesn’t fit the times.”
Patrick listened to the two of them go back and forth while he made his own change. It had been a while since he had played a character quite so young. It was fun. At least this time didn’t involve braces. That had been horrible. He stood and the hair from his brown-blond wig flopped into his eyes, just as it was supposed to. He rejoined his co-workers.
“And you thought my hair was bad,” Brian said, jabbing his elbow into Thomas’s side.
Thomas tapped a finger to his lips. “If my mother were here, she would probably get out her scissors and talk about how evil it was for men to have long hair. That woman is a stickler for tradition and her stuffy religion, no offense to the two of you.”
Brian turned to Thomas. “How in the world would calling our religion stuffy not be considered offensive?”
Patrick blinked rapidly. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing? It sounded as if Brian was angry with Thomas.
“Your religion may not be, but my mother’s clothes and beliefs come right from a Victorian wardrobe.”
“We share the same faith, Thomas. By saying that about her faith, you are saying the same thing about mine.”
Thomas held up his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was making a joke.”
“It didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded like a jab at our faith.”
Patrick shifted and glanced at his watch, hoping it was time to leave. True, he didn’t like some of the things that Thomas said about their faith, but he would have let the subject go by now.
“Look, I said I was sorry,” Thomas said. “Can we let this matter drop?”
Brian stood still for a moment. Patrick held his breath, hoping the answer would be yes. “I’m sorry, Thomas. This is partially my fault. I’ve let some things you’ve said slide by because I didn’t want to cause trouble. I should have spoken up every time.”
“Fine, fine.” Thomas stood and headed toward the door. “I’ll try not to say anything that would upset you fanatics, okay?”
“I don’t mind you upsetting me. I just don’t wish you to poke fun at my faith.”
Thomas threw up his hands. “I get it! Okay? You two get going. We don’t want you to miss your appointment with the professor.”
Patrick stared anywhere but at the two of them, grateful they would be getting out of here soon. What was with Brian?
Brian stood for a moment as if trying to decide whether he was going to speak again. Thankfully, he moved toward the door.
They strode quickly through the hall and went to the car that was waiting in the parking lot.
“What was that about?” Patrick finally asked when he had closed the car door.
Brian glanced over at him before turning the key in the ignition. “There are times to stand up.”
“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time telling me to be quiet and respect Thomas as my boss.”
“And you know I was right every time I said something.” Brian’s easy smile lit his face.
“Seriously, Brian, don’t you think you may have crossed a line back there?”
Brian slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. He was disrespecting not only my faith but his mother. Saying ‘no offense’ does not mean that no offense was given. While I’ll be the first to say that we need to let a lot of things go, when our faith is mocked it is time to stand.”
Patrick stared at the road ahead. He let the matter drop but he still felt that Brian had overreacted. Time for a subject change. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“It’s about Kate.”
Brian smiled. “Oh?”
“Yeah, she wants to go visit her family for Christmas and Thomas said no.”
“Oh.” The smile disappeared.
“She’s already talked to you?”
“No, it isn’t that. I thought maybe the two of you had talked about something different.”
Patrick glanced at Brian. When his friend failed to elaborate, he moved on. Brian was in an odd mood today. “She needs this, Brian. She needs to get home and make some things right with her family. Our team has talked about forgiving our parents and not blaming them for our choices. I need to help her get back.”
“Are we back to Patrick trying to rescue everyone?”
They turned onto Main Street. The trees wrapped in lights were pretty, even if they weren’t turned on. Window displays depicted various Christmas wares as well as scenes with Santa Claus and nativities.
Kate wasn’t everyone, but Patrick didn’t say that. “She’s finally accepted me as a friend. She came to me for help and I want to help her. I want to prove to her that we aren’t here just to convict her and help her to change, but that we’re willing to help her act.”
“What has Thomas said?”
“He told her he thought it was too dangerous for both her and her family. Apparently, they’ve been getting some reports about Ingrid.”
Brian turned onto Franklin Road. “Yeah. I heard that she has a reward out to find Kate.”
Patrick jerked into a full upright position. “She wants her that bad?”
His friend nodded. “I’m sure the fact that Ingrid is still free keeps some FBI agents up at night.”
Patrick stared out at the road.
“Let me be more specific. I’m sure it keeps you up some nights.”
“Not often.”
“So, it does?”
Patrick sighed and turned in his seat toward his friend. “Why do you sound happy about that? She’s a dangerous criminal who got away. She’s out there plotting other attacks and trying to get rid of Kate.”
“I’m not happy about her being on the loose.”
“Then what made you smile?”
“The fact that you are staying up nights worried about it.”
Patrick turned back toward the window. Sometimes, Brian was frustrating and he didn’t understand him. Today was one of those days.
“Don’t you want to ask why?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Not really. I’m not sure I’d like the answer.”
“Probably not, as it has to do with your love life.”
Frustration rose within Patrick. Was Brian determined to irritate him today? “I don’t have one. We’ve been over this before. If you want an interesting stor
y, talk to Logan about her relationship with Kevin. If that isn’t enough, find someone for Toby.”
“Why are you so stubborn about this? He who finds a wife finds a good thing. And a wife of noble character is worth more than rubies.”
“Brian, are you trying to make me mad?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re doing a good job of it for not trying. First you make a big deal out of a small comment. Now, for some unknown reason, we’re on the subject of my love life.”
“I’m sorry.” Brian’s tone softened. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I want to be a good friend to the women in my life, but I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“So you’ve said.”
“So why do we keep coming back to it? The New Testament talks about the benefits of singleness.”
Brian sat silently as they turned onto Mallory Station Road.
Patrick wished he could force his friend to talk.
“I see so much good in you, Patrick, but I think there are times that you forget to think long-term. You won’t be able to be a field agent forever.”
He blinked. What was Brian saying? He could work in the field for a long time. Sure, when he was older, he’d have to either leave or move up the ladder, but that would be okay. He would still be with the FBI.
“Someday, you’ll be moved from the field to a desk job and you won’t like that, and then you’ll have to retire. Unless I get you to thinking about things now, I’m afraid that you’ll look back and have a lot of regrets.”
“Like what? I love my job.”
“But a job doesn’t last. There will be bad guys in this world until the final judgment. Go to a nursing home and listen to old people talk about what they regret. They don’t talk about time they should have spent at work, they don’t regret the missed business opportunities, they don’t regret telling their boss they needed time off to do something. What they regret is not telling a girl they loved her until it was too late. They’re sorry they failed to pour their life into their family. They regret what they didn’t do with people.”
