Blonde Bomb Tech

by Lara Santiago

  Sabrina thought she would have a better shot of getting back on the investigation if she had some juicy information to add to the case today. She familiarized herself with all the tidbits of the case up to when she’d gotten dismissed. She did up her own little cork board with note cards to see if any juicy information would leap to her attention and make her a hero.

  She worked on her little personal project to stay on the case for the better part of each day she spent away from the Sheriff’s station. At least all the extra time that she didn’t spend wrapped around Jake getting to know him better in a biblical sense. That also occupied a significant amount of her time. Jake watched her carefully, but never said anything.

  Sabrina forced herself to focus on her new secret investigation goal. Instead of getting sidetracked with difficult upcoming conversations with Jake regarding why she wasn’t pregnant, she vowed to remain silent until the bitter end, which was hopefully a long way off.

  She’d counted on the lead from Murphy regarding the man mentioned in her mother’s diary to be her ticket back on the case. Unfortunately, after only a little minor search, the scary guy her mother had been hiding from looked completely innocent of the bombing.

  Murphy called with similar information after the conference meeting with the lawyers and John Everett Hollingsworth III. Unfortunately for Sabrina and her quest for juicy leads, John Everett Hollingsworth could not have done it.

  Sabrina followed several newspaper accounts of the Fireside Inn bombing and then separately the story of John Everett Hollingsworth. Twenty-three years ago he’d fought other problems. At the exact time of the bombing, he had been under arrest and sitting in custody at the Heathton police station accused of sexually assaulting a sixteen-year-old girl.

  The girl in question told her father she was ‘in love’ with a mystery man. On the day of the bombing, some pictures of her and her mystery lover had found their way into the hands of her father. He recognized the lover as the rich John Everett Hollingsworth III, who was in his mid-twenties at the time. He went to speak to his daughter to tell her to stay away from Hollingsworth and had discovered them together in the heat of the moment on her bed amongst her stuffed animals. Needless to say, he immediately pressed charges and had Hollingsworth hauled off to jail. Sabrina was surprised the father hadn’t killed the guy.

  The timing had been almost exact. The bomb went off a half an hour after Hollingsworth had been put into custody. While he could have set up a remote detonator, Sabrina thought the police were smart enough to note that on the section where he turned in his effects, i.e., one wallet, one gold plated watch, one remote detonator set to blow up something up once he was out on bail. He was ruled out as a suspect in her studious research…unfortunately. He had been allowed to make two phone calls from the police station, as was standard operating procedure at the time. One of the calls produced his lawyer. The other had probably been to his aunt, for bail money Sabrina thought, pouting now.

  He’d been accused and then convicted of statutory rape against the sixteen-year-old girl. A plea had been reached eventually for his misconduct. He’d ended up doing a year in a minimum-security prison for the crime. The girl’s father had been angry at the lax sentence, but the father should have been grateful Hollingsworth had to do any time at all, given his wealth and connections.

  Upon his release, Hollingsworth was eventually allowed back into local polite society. Money has advantages. Hollingsworth spent some time overseas hiding in the first few years after his release. He’d married some European girl from a royal family about a dozen years ago. More recently, Hollingsworth had come back to the states to take over his father’s business upon his death last year. He’d quickly run that company into the ground and then apparently started living off his wife’s money. He was rich and worthless, but not seemingly connected with the crime Sabrina wanted him for. He had an alibi, and that didn’t help her. It was a big fat dead end for her cause.

  So now, three wasted days later, Sabrina sat at her desk with no juicy information on the case to impart and make herself therefore indispensable to the bomb squad. The only juicy part of her life was the one with Jake, and that was also about to change. Jake had to go back to work at midnight tomorrow night for another three days.

  Sabrina hinted that she might move back into her house during his absence. He didn’t want her to go, so they were most likely going to discuss it tonight. If the word discuss could be substituted for argue. Sabrina needed to figure out how to tell Jake the truth about her other big secret. Time was running out. She was getting too attached. She wasn’t going to want to have that ‘discussion’…ever, let alone tonight. She chickened out each time an opportunity came up. She looked into his sexy green gaze, became mesmerized, and promptly stuffed the information away for yet another later date.

  Today was just going to suck from beginning to end, she decided, as her thoughts moved to the pumpkin/mad bomber case haunting her. She wanted back on the case and didn’t have any way back in. So far there had been no additional contact with the bomber since she’d been off the case. No pumpkin anything had been found at the most recent bombsite where her parents had been killed so many years ago. Sabrina’s mind wandered back to lust-filled emerald green eyes and she sighed forlornly.

  A moment later, Captain Hennessey came striding into the office. Sabrina jumped up to intercept him before he entered his office.

  “Captain Hennessey?” she asked in a calm friendly voice.

  “The answer is no.”

  “I only said your name.”

  “You want back on the case and the answer is no.”

  “Just let me just spend time in the same room with the evidence.” Sabrina followed Hennessey into his office, closing the door behind her to beg in private. Murphy and Brian hadn’t arrived yet, but were due any minute. “I’ll study it quietly. Maybe something will jump out at me.”

  “No. If Councilman Peters comes in, and he will, and catches you anywhere near the investigation, the only jumping out will be his foot jumping out of my ass after he’s kicked it.”

  “If Councilman Peters will allow it, can I come back?” she asked.

  That stopped him. He gave her a quizzical look. “Are you going to apologize to him?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

  “Yes.” She managed to grate out. “The next time he comes in, I’ll apologize for my remarks. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Hennessey’s eyebrows scrunched up. His look clearly indicated he thought she had some trick afoot. “but in the mean time, until he comes in, couldn’t I just…”

  “No.” He rolled his eyes. He stepped around his desk, grabbed her by the shoulders and forcefully escorted her towards his office door.

  Hennessey opened the door with one hand as his other hand found the middle of her back to propel her out of his office. He almost pushed her right into Councilman Peters who had been poised to knock. Sabrina stepped back into Hennessey so fast she almost knocked him on his butt. He grabbed her arms to steady himself. To onlookers they probably looked like they’d been practicing a Hardy comedy routine.

  Sabrina found herself focused on the glaringly familiar face of Councilman Peters as he gave her a once-over. He practically licked his lips. Disgusting. Apologize, my ass, she thought and then had to calm herself. Just breathe in and out. You don’t have to mean it. “Captain Hennessey, a word with you,” Councilman Peters said, as if he’d just remembered why he was here.

  “Councilman Peters?” Sabrina heard herself say in a voice so sweet she wondered who was speaking for her.

  “Ms. Morgan,” he said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.

  “I would like to take this opportunity to sincerely apologize for my remarks the last time I spoke to you.” His eyes flew wide open at the words ‘sincerely apologize.’ He was apparently as shocked as she was at her words. Sabrina plowed on with a little prayer that it was working.

  “I was distraught over my losses at home, but
I shouldn’t have taken my upset at that event out on you, sir. I hope you will forgive my harsh words.” Sabrina thought that although the surprising words had come from her mouth, they at least sounded sincere.

  Either the girly emotional side emerged or some other new softer personality had taken residence in her body. Whatever. She just wanted to get back on the investigation, whatever it took. You don’t have to mean it, said the bitch stuffed way deep inside. Sabrina tried to put a smile on her face, but feared it would come off like a grimace, so she settled for passive and serene.

  Councilman Peters was quiet for a few long moments and then his face softened. “I’ll forgive your harsh words, Ms. Morgan, but it won’t put you back on the bomb squad.”

  Sabrina didn’t know where she found the serenity, but refrained from calling him a perverted fucking asshole like he deserved. Instead, she found the soft smile she’d sought earlier, nodded once to him, and added, “As you wish, Councilman. I was merely seeking forgiveness for my bad behavior.” Sabrina stepped past him out of the office doorway and walked quietly to her desk.

  When she got there and sat down, Councilman Peters still stood in the doorway to Hennessey’s office watching her. The lustful look was back in his eyes. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to consider getting to know him in the biblical sense. Her serenity wouldn’t hold out on that one. She grew uncomfortable at his gaze and looked down at her desk pretending to study a paper on it.

  God, she’d gone totally soft. In the past, she would have stared him down for that totally inappropriate lustful gaze. She might have taken a swing at him if she’d been premenstrual. Alas, that wouldn’t help her, so she sent up a prayer of thankfulness at her quiet acceptance of all things not fair and hoped for the best.

  Sabrina hoped her face wasn’t flushed red with the lie she’d just told. A wave of nausea had swept over her at the image of an intimate encounter with Councilman Peters. She hoped to be able to hold it together until he was out of sight. Vomiting on her desk right now might challenge her earlier sincerity to a degree.

  Hennessey invited Peters into his office. She looked up in time to connect with Hennessy’s gaze. She smiled when he winked at her before shutting the door to his office. The ensuing conversation was a calm one, and the first quiet meeting between the two men in a long time.

  “Hey. Long-lost blonde bomber partner, are you finally back for good?” Murphy asked, shuffling into the room.

  “Yeah,” she responded, trying to shake off her roiling stomach and ill feeling.

  “Boy, for three weeks off, you sure don’t look rested.”

  “Oh yeah? What do I look like?”

  “Like you want to puke on your desk.”

  Sabrina told him what had just taken place outside of Hennessey’s office and Councilman Peters responding warm stare.

  “Okay, so I guess I’d want to puke on my desk too,” Murphy said and handed her a folder. “Here, read this until he comes back out.” It was the case file on the most recent bombing from the former Fireside Inn restaurant bombing. Plus all the information that had accumulated since she’d been on vacation. She blew him a kiss and sat down to read.

  Twenty minutes later Sabrina gratefully read the material Murphy slipped to her from the investigation. She would have compared it to the minute information she had made notes on from her time off, but she had forgotten her bag in the hallway at Jake’s this morning. She wondered where she put her brain. She’d never forgotten it before. It was like a briefcase for her. She couldn’t remember her purse to save her life, but she carried her bag like a treasure. Then again, she’d never taken a three-week vacation, either. Too much time off had thrown off her working rhythm, and she needed all her capabilities today.

  The door to Hennessey’s office opened suddenly and Councilman Peters stepped out. Sabrina flipped the file cover over and switched it with another quickly to hide what she’d been looking at. She stood up as Councilman Peters approached her desk to distract him from checking to see what she’d been reading. Murphy also stood as he reached the side of her desk.

  “Ms. Morgan,” he began in a pleasant voice.

  “Councilman,” she responded, and hoped she didn’t sound as wary as she felt.

  “May I call you Sabrina?” he asked.

  What was he up to? Sabrina wondered. She looked at Hennessey for a clue, but he had already retreated back into his office. He left the door open, so apparently he wanted to hear, but didn’t want to have to participate in the conversation. That didn’t seem good at all.

  “Uh…sure.” Sabrina found her voice.

  ‘Remember,’ she cautioned the cold hard bitch within who’d rushed to the surface as Councilman Peters had approached, ‘no nastiness from you. You want back on this investigation. Whatever it takes. I’ve already given up so much pride to this cause. Don’t open your foul mouth and ruin it for me.’ Her exercise in self-control completed, Sabrina found a small tight-lipped smile to give him. Suck up time begins now. Don’t throw up.

  Councilman Peters smiled a smarmy, lip-licking response to her overture. Leaning a hip on her desk, he struck a casual pose. He looked like he was about to get friendly and personal and…God forbid…intimate. She wondered if her wastepaper basket was too far away for sudden hurling, if needed.

  Councilman Peters wasn’t a completely unattractive man, just not her type, at all. He was a slick politician type. He was slightly bald, but didn’t have to go to great lengths to cover it up just yet. He’d been married years ago, but his wife had died as he campaigned for office. He was the underdog then, but the sympathy vote had put him in office. The family values slogan he hung his hat on kept him in office, she supposed, since the city was predominantly full of conservative large families. She didn’t have a problem with any of that, but she wasn’t interested in a slick politician. For any reason.

  “We’ve never had much of an opportunity to chat or get to know one another over the past several years, have we, Sabrina?” Councilman Peters began.

  Oh God. He is going to ask me out. Where is that waste paper basket?

  “No. I guess we haven’t,” she carefully responded. And we don’t want to. How could she turn him down? The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. An electric charge filled the air around her. She was so screwed…and after all that nice sucking up earlier, too. Life was so unfair.

  “Are you free for lunch, today?” Peters asked, giving voice to her fears and then the smarmy goat glanced down at her chest. Not a quick glance either. He stared as if her breasts were going to give him the response to his lunch query…or yeech, be his lunch themselves!

  Sabrina took a deep breath to keep from slapping him across the chops like he deserved. She glanced up at Murphy. He couldn’t see the Peters staring at her chest, but he wasn’t paying attention anyway, the lout. His focus was over her shoulder. Murphy smiled suddenly. Help me, Murphy, she sent a mental SOS. Say something. Somebody. Anybody. Help me. Help me.

  “No, she’s not free for lunch. She’s eating with me,” came a soothing sexy voice from over her shoulder. Jake. Thank God.

  Sabrina turned towards his voice as he stepped up right behind her. His arm came up and rested around her shoulders pulling her in close to his chest. His hip ground in to hers and she felt the warmth of his leg resting next to hers all the way to the floor.

  The stance he’d adopted was a blatant one. It was a purely male staking out his territory move, but Sabrina was so happy to see him at that moment in the face of having to refuse Peters, she didn’t care.

  “Yes. I…I’m having lunch with Jake,” Sabrina managed to stutter. She noticed that Hennessey came to the doorway of his office so as not to miss the show.

  “Well, perhaps another time then,” Peters said blandly to Sabrina and once again glanced at her chest. Stupid idiot.

  “I don’t think so,” Jake said, glaring at the councilman.

  “Jake, what are you doing here? I thought we were meeting for lunch
later on.” Sabrina hoped to defuse this potentially explosive situation. She was a bomb tech after all. Not all bombs were the kind that ticked. She didn’t want to lose the brownie points so painfully earned earlier.

  “I brought you your bag, babe. You left it by the front door this morning on your way out and I thought you might need it.” He handed it to her as Councilman Peters’ face registered that she was still ‘shacked up with Jake,’ as he’d so eloquently put it the other day.

  “You’re still living with this man?” He spat out in a quiet tone filled with rage. “How long does it take to refurnish a small house anyway?”

  “Why is that any of your business, Councilman?” Jake snarled as he answered for her. He then changed position and stepped in front of Sabrina, advancing on Councilman Peters.

  “Jake,” Sabrina said pleadingly.

  “Living in sin without the sanctity of marriage…”

  “Is still none of your business, Councilman.” Jake took a step closer to the blustering man. He didn’t bluster for long. Peters got a certain glint in his eyes, stood up and stopped leaning on her desk. He swelled up. He looked ready to deliver a give a speech. Great.

  “I would think you of all people, Mr. Donovan, would not be the type of man to take advantage of a woman in dire straights. I would think a decorated firefighter such as yourself in this community, from a large family also dedicated to this city’s fire service and also well thought of, up to now, would have different values. What exactly are your intentions towards Sabrina?”

  “You are some piece of work,” Jake said quietly as he placed his hands on his hips.

  “Jake.” Sabrina tried again to come around between them, but Jake’s sharp, angry look stilled her. This was personal and no longer about her. Jake was about to clean the councilman’s clock, or at least that is what it looked like.