“What’s that?” In the soft light of the restaurant dining room, Sam’s expression appeared almost tender.
“Everyone at Wonderworld’s local subsidiaries has to be scared out of their wits about the Trigger,” she said. “Surely they’d come forward if they had any clear idea who was doing this. How can someone hold such a big grudge against the company without anyone knowing about it?”
“Maybe there isn’t an obvious connection,” he said. “Maybe it’s a disgruntled former worker who coincidentally happened to hit these particular targets.”
“If that’s so, we’ve got a lot more legwork to do.” Nora didn’t relish the prospect of broadening their investigation, but it went with the territory.
Sam stretched his shoulders. “If Barbara Noot can’t or won’t help us, I propose we subpoena the personnel files from Finder, Esmee and Speedman.”
Nora permitted herself a groan. The fact that he was right didn’t ease the prospect of wading through vast amounts of data, searching for a needle in a haystack. “I guess we’ll have to. But what if we’re missing some vital clue that’s right in front of us?”
“Part of the problem seems to be that Speedman promoted one president and replaced her with a new one shortly after the accident,” Sam pointed out. “Whatever happened may have fallen between the cracks.”
Nora tried to flog her weary brain into action. “Whoever the Trigger is, he must have something specific against Carl Garcola or else believe he knows enough to identify his attacker. Otherwise, why risk planting that second bomb in Mrs. Garcola’s purse?”
Sam rested his elbows on the table. “I think we should go back to Esmee Engines tomorrow and reinterview Ramon Nunez and Bethany Peters. Let’s take a second look at her husband, too.”
The possibility that over the past year a jealous spouse had blown up a warehouse and truck and murdered employees of other subsidiaries to cover his trail before attacking his rival gave new dimensions to the term far-fetched. They’d reached the point of grasping at straws, Nora reflected wearily.
“I think we need to sleep on it,” she said.
“Alone?” Sam teased.
“That was not an invitation!”
“You can’t blame a fella for asking.” A half smile played around his mouth. She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap away the smugness or lean across the table and kiss him.
Nora caught sight of Fire Chief Dan Egan and his wife, Natalie, a burn specialist at the hospital, gazing lovingly at each other a few tables away. The pair appeared absorbed in each other, and Nora realized that any public displays of affection between her and Sam would attract notice.
“Dream on,” she said.
“I intend to.”
Nora chose not to respond. Sometimes it was best to let Sam have the last word.
Since she hadn’t had a chance all day to retrieve her car, he drove her home after dinner. Outside her apartment, she considered inviting him in for a cup of coffee. If he kept a pair of trunks in his car, they might even enjoy relaxing in the spa.
After that smart-aleck remark about sleeping together? Not a bright idea.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Sam joked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve been sitting there staring through the windshield. I would take this as a tribute to my charming company, except that I haven’t said a word.”
“I’m too tired to move.” Not far from the truth.
“Think of all the fun we’re going to have on Monday, filling out the paperwork for those subpoenas.” Sam let out a weary breath. “I’m almost sorry I came up with the idea.”
“Maybe we should get Bud Patchett to break into Wonderworld’s computers and steal the employee files,” Nora joked.
The firehouse mechanic, who had a knack for computers, often helped fix software glitches for both the fire and police stations. Although the city’s technical department was responsible for servicing the computers, the techs tended to be overworked and not always immediately available.
The humor vanished from her partner’s face. “Why’d you happen to mention Bud?”
“Is there a problem?” Nora asked in surprise.
“He thinks you’re sexy.”
“Bud?” Although she’d always found the fortysomething mechanic pleasant and helpful, Nora didn’t see him in a romantic light. “Sam, are you jealous?”
“Definitely not. Besides, he’s too old for you. And too bald. Are you saying you had no idea?”
“He did volunteer to tune up my car once.” Nora had almost forgotten about that. “I declined. But what’s wrong with bald men? Some women think they’re cute.”
Sam bristled. “If you need help, I’m not a bad mechanic myself.”
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed by this masculine display of possessiveness. Best not to dwell on it. “Thanks, I’ll take it under consideration. See you tomorrow.” She slid out of the car.
“I wasn’t kidding about the tune-up,” his deep voice rumbled after her.
“I can change my own spark plugs. But anytime you want to cook dinner, you’re on. Thanks for the ride.” Nora hurried away without looking back.
Because if she did, she suspected she’d see him watching her all the way into the building.
SAM ARRIVED HOME to see his sister walking toward her car at the curb. When she spotted him, she waved.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he got out.
“I was trying to return these.” Mary handed him two DVDs she’d borrowed a week ago. “I forgot to give them to you Friday night.”
“No hurry.” He had a weakness for old movies and liked sharing them with his mother and sister.
“How was your weekend?” Hands on hips, she regarded him expectantly.
“Busy.” Sam saw no reason to go into detail.
He should have known Mary wouldn’t be put off that easily. “See any more of Nora?”
“You mean other than working together all day yesterday and today? Not much.” He pretended an interest in the DVDs, although he could barely read the cases in the dim light.
“Mom likes her.”
“Everybody likes her.” Again, Sam kept his response terse and read his sister’s frustration in the way her jogging shoe tapped the sidewalk.
“She asked me about Elaine Warner.”
That got his attention. As he stared at Mary, he noticed her starting to squirm and guessed that she hadn’t meant to betray a confidence. Her intense need to spark a reaction must have tempted her too far. “How does she know Elaine?”
“Apparently they’re friends.”
Sam had almost forgotten that Elaine lived in the same apartment building as Nora. It hadn’t occurred to him that the two women might know each other.
If Nora had brought up his name with Elaine, that might indicate she took more interest in him than she let on—a tantalizing thought. On the other hand, since he doubted she had any more long-term intentions toward him than he did toward her, it might have been Elaine who’d yakked.
At the memory of the way he’d broken up with his former girlfriend, guilt nipped at him. Sam knew he’d handled it badly.
At the time, he’d believed honesty was the best policy, but afterward, the hurt in Elaine’s eyes had disturbed him so much, he’d made a quick getaway. Later, he’d chided himself for his cowardice, but hadn’t gone back to try to soften the blow, because he doubted it would help.
“Nora knows I’d never treat her that way, on the unlikely chance we ever got involved,” he said. “She’d clobber me.”
“Yes, I gather she’s more likely to do the dumping than to get dumped.” Mary’s comment bordered on a taunt.
“Nobody’s dumping anybody,” Sam told her. “We’re partners. We work together.”
She didn’t respond. For a moment, he dared to hope that his sister might simply wish him well and make her departure. Instead…
“I tried to drop off the DVDs at
eight o’clock this morning on the way to church. You weren’t home.”
Aha. Now he understood her intense curiosity. She suspected him of having spent the night elsewhere. “I got an early start. Nora and I drove down to Malibu to watch her brothers blow up the Sunset Shores Hotel.”
“They blew up a hotel?”
“They’re in the demolition business.”
“She rousted you, the soundest sleeper in the West, out of bed early on a Sunday to…never mind.” Mary shook her head. “This woman is way ahead of you. Sam, I think you’ve met your match.”
“She can hold her own.” He refused to concede any more.
“Don’t let her get away,” his sister said. “You’ll never find anyone like her again. Well, thanks for the DVDs.”
At last, an exit line. “Thanks for bringing them back.”
“Sure thing.”
As she started away, warmth rushed through him. Irksome as he might find being given the third degree, Sam would hate it even more if nobody cared. “Mary?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Turning back, his sister wound her arms around his neck and hugged tight. He could have sworn he felt a trace of moisture from her eyelashes. “Love you too.”
They held each other for a moment before separating. As she drove off, Sam reflected how vital family was. He certainly wouldn’t want to live without one.
NORA DIDN’T DREAD Monday mornings. She loved her work.
Plus, today, arriving at the department meant seeing Sam again. Being around him energized her. Maybe she’d been wrong all these years to prefer working alone.
As if they’d prearranged taking turns, she carted her stuff to his office without bothering to call first. At least he had plenty of empty space on his desk to spread out their files.
A night’s rest had removed the trace of darkness from beneath his gray eyes, and he grinned when he saw her armful of files. “Going to mess up my place for me, are you?”
“Too much neatness is the sign of a diseased mind.” She plopped her papers on the near side of the desk.
“You call this order?” He indicated two tidy piles of notes and documents occupying a formerly empty corner. “Stuff’s really starting to pile up around here.”
“You know, they can treat obsessive-compulsive disorder with medication these days,” Nora cracked.
“Unfortunately, as far as I know, there’s no cure for sloppiness,” he retorted.
“Sloppiness?” She frowned at a loose sheet of paper floating to the floor. Which file had that fallen from?
While she was figuring it out, Dan Egan dropped by. “I saw you guys working over dinner last night. How’s it going?”
“We’re going to try to subpoena the employment records from the three companies involved.” Sam offered the fire chief a cup of coffee, which he politely declined. “We’re hoping to find something we’ve overlooked.”
“If you need any help, let me know,” Dan said. “I can’t help taking this case personally.” He’d suffered burns in the warehouse explosion that had also injured Sam, Nora recalled. Dan’s injuries had produced one positive result: his marriage to the burn specialist who’d treated him.
“Thanks,” she said. “We’ll do that.”
After he left, they divided up the morning’s chores. For the sake of efficiency, Sam agreed to fill out forms while Nora made a round of calls. First she checked to make sure no one had disturbed Rose Chang or Carl Garcola. After that, she called the Atlanta police. So far, they hadn’t had any luck locating Barbara Noot.
Her next project: following tips phoned in by the public. After Carl’s case got front-page treatment in the Sentinel, residents had flooded the desk with suggestions. Nora set about prioritizing them.
Top rank went to those that provided the most details, such as the names and addresses of possible suspects. Unfortunately, most of the tips were vague suspicions. One concerned a neighbor who’d blasted some gophers out of his yard. Another cited a coworker who railed against drivers using cell phones. Everything had to be evaluated.
About 10:00 a.m., the jail notified her that Arthur Stone was being released on bail. Although Nora no longer considered him a suspect, she appreciated the information.
The next time she glanced at her watch, noon had arrived. Another morning shot, a lot of work done, and yet they were no closer to catching the Trigger. What was he doing right now? Was he planning another attack?
From across the desk, Sam watched her levelly. Nora’s expression must have given away her frustration, because he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get him.”
“I hate sitting around,” she admitted. “I prefer action.”
He glanced at the candy wrappers and coffee cups that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. “At least the place looks lived-in now. Care to take back that remark about my being obsessive-compulsive?”
Before she could muster a reply, Nora’s cell phone rang. She flipped it open. “Keyes.”
“This is Barbara Noot at Wonderworld in Atlanta.” The voice had a hoarse edge. “My superiors don’t want me getting involved, but I just found out I have to fly to Courage Bay for a family emergency, and frankly, I’m terrified.”
Thank goodness she’d contacted them. Nora had been half-afraid that when the police did locate her, they’d find the woman already dead.
“When are you arriving?” To Sam, she mouthed the woman’s name.
“Tomorrow afternoon. My mother’s critically ill. I can’t take the chance of her dying without seeing her.”
“I’m so sorry.” What a terrible situation for Barbara, to have to weigh risking her life against saying goodbye to her mother. “We’ll move her to a secure area at the hospital. What’s her name?” Nora jotted down the information, along with Barbara’s phone number.
“You don’t think the bomber would go after her, do you?” the woman asked worriedly.
“Unlikely, but let’s not take any chances.” Now that she had Barbara on the line, she needed to learn as much as possible. “We’re trying to pin down who might have a grudge against the victims. We think the situation is related to the Chiseler chip.” She mentioned the two people they’d already cleared.
“They’re the only ones I can think of with a motive,” Barbara said.
“What about the driver of the race car?” Nora asked. “Rose Chang believed he suffered minor injuries but she didn’t give us his name.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, I don’t remember,” Barbara said. “But I was there and he walked away from the crash. He looked fine to me.”
“Do you have any other suggestions?”
“I still can’t think about the crash without getting upset, especially about that poor woman who was crippled,” the executive said. “Then Wonderworld announced my promotion and I got caught up in moving.”
“The accident didn’t affect your promotion?” she asked.
“They didn’t see it as my fault,” Barbara said sharply. “I don’t either. I’m just sorry about the consequences.”
Nora switched to the most pressing issue: Barbara’s upcoming trip to Courage Bay. “Let’s discuss your visit. We’ll be happy to provide protection while you’re here.”
“How can you be sure the guy won’t get to me anyway?” the woman demanded. “If he’s determined enough, all he has to do is slip a cell phone into my purse or my luggage, which wouldn’t be that hard now that we’re not allowed to lock our suitcases. How can you possibly protect me against everything?”
They couldn’t.
Then Nora got a brainstorm. Adrenaline started pumping. Not only could she protect Barbara, she might be able to draw the Trigger into a trap.
“I have an idea,” she said. “But first, describe what you look like.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHY WAS NORA ASKING Ms. Noot for her description? Sam wondered uneasily. He didn’t like the idea that came to him, because it was far too dangerous.
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“That’s great,” she said into the phone. “You’re just an inch shorter than me. How long’s your hair? What color?”
Sam opened his mouth to object. His partner’s eyes flashed in response. They could hardly get into an argument while she had Barbara on the phone. “Call her back,” he said.
“Barbara? Listen, I need to brief my partner. I’ll call you back this afternoon.” Nora quivered with what Sam could swear must be excitement. Whatever she had in mind, it clearly involved risk, and probably lots of it. “Don’t tell anyone you’ve spoken to me, okay?”
A moment later, she rang off. From the way she folded her arms, Sam could see he was in for a fight. He didn’t care, because he’d already figured out what she was planning.
“You are not going to act as a decoy,” he said. “If we can’t devise any other way to handle this than to have someone pose as Barbara, Max can assign one of the patrol officers.”
“We don’t have another policewoman close to my size. Besides, we need someone who knows this case and understands the Trigger the way I do. Sam, it’s perfect.”
He snatched at the next argument that came to him. “Don’t forget that the Trigger probably knows what Barbara Noot looks like.”
“She’s been living in Atlanta for a couple of years, so he’s likely to be fuzzy on the details,” she returned with spirit. “And he probably didn’t know her personally in the first place, unless by some chance he worked at the company.”
“Which he might have done!”
Nora pulled a small mirror from her purse and regarded her hair critically. “She’s a blonde. I wish there were some way to bleach my hair fast.”
“Are you listening to me?” Sam demanded.
“On the other hand, if the Trigger’s watching us and saw me with blonde hair, he’d know what we’re up to,” Nora said. “Besides, there’s no practical way to strip the color out myself, and I don’t have time to go to a salon. I’ll need to rustle up a wig.”
Sam suppressed an urge to grip her by the shoulders and force her to meet his gaze. “You’re forgetting that the Trigger probably knows what you look like. He might recognize you.”
The Trigger Page 17
