Nora willed him to sit up. He had to be all right.
He didn’t move.
She wanted to grab the nearest medic and force him to say that Sam was going to be fine. She understood now why families rushed up to doctors demanding information when it was clearly too soon.
“Nora?” One of the bomb squad members approached. “Have you done a Render Safe?”
“No,” she said. “But we evacuated.” For good measure, she added, “Bud Patchett put a cell phone in my purse and Sam carried it outside.”
“I’ll handle the Render Safe.” The man indicated a point on her neck. “You should have the paramedics take a look at your cut.”
Until that moment, Nora hadn’t noticed the smarting. “It’s nothing. Thanks.” She preferred to let the paramedics work on Sam and help a young couple who’d suffered gashes. The baby in the woman’s arms appeared unharmed.
Nora could see from the blast pattern that the bomb had gone off near the block wall. A few seconds later and the impact might have been absorbed by the concrete, but they hadn’t been that lucky.
Sam still didn’t stir.
This isn’t over.
Nora heard the thought as clearly as if someone had spoken in her ear. Because of her focus on the bomb and on Sam, she’d allowed herself to become distracted from her primary purpose.
To protect Barbara. And to catch the Trigger.
This semi-chaotic scene was exactly what he needed to provide cover. And she’d left Barbara with officers who had crowd control, not bodyguard duty, uppermost in their minds.
Furious with herself, she hurried back the way she’d come. She found a patrolman writing down the names of the witnesses while the other photographed them. In case someone gave a false name or left unnoticed, the shots could verify who’d been there.
She didn’t see Barbara.
Nora hurried toward the group, silently cursing herself for a fool. “Bill!” she called to the officer she’d spoken with earlier. “Where’s Barbara Noot? The blond woman in the business suit.”
He surveyed the area. “She was standing by your car a minute ago.”
Not anymore.
Nora didn’t waste time scolding him. Barbara had been her responsibility. “We’ve got to find her, right now. Bud Patchett planted this bomb to kill her and he’s not giving up.”
“I’ll call for backup.”
“You do that.”
Leaving Bill to radio the dispatcher, Nora tried to recreate what might have happened. Assuming that Bud had lured Barbara away on a pretext, they wouldn’t have gone inside the building or to the front. The gas station next door offered no cover. That left the rear, largely empty section of pavement behind the café.
A landscaped row of trees screened the farthest area. Peering through them, she saw two figures. With a shout to Bill, Nora took off running.
Although she sometimes carried her gun in a shoulder holster, she’d put it in her purse today because of the disguise, which meant it had been blown to smithereens. She had to hope Bud wasn’t armed, either.
By the time she arrived at Barbara’s side, the large man in slacks and a blue work shirt had taken off running. Recognizing Bud’s powerful shape from behind, Nora realized that until this moment, she had hoped against hope it wasn’t him.
“Stop! You’re under arrest!” she shouted.
Bud turned but kept moving backward. Madness glittered in his black eyes. “So shoot me,” he taunted. “They already killed my brother and got away with it.”
“How could you do this?” The words burst out of her. “How could you set up your friends?”
“You’re all part of the system—you’ve been protecting the murderers,” he snarled, and pointed to Barbara. “She’s going to die. Count on it.”
Then he broke into a run toward a black pickup truck.
“He said he was a detective.” Barbara shivered. “Thank goodness you showed up.”
“It isn’t over yet.” Cursing herself for the delay, Nora patted down the woman’s jacket. When she felt a lump in one pocket, she yanked out a cell phone. Barbara stared at it in dismay.
As soon as Bud reached a safe distance, he’d detonate. And he’d just started his motor.
“Run!” Nora ordered Barbara, and headed the other way. Acting on instinct, she pitched the cell phone as hard as she could toward a clear area far from the restaurant.
At the last minute, the truck swerved in the same direction. Maybe Bud had misjudged Nora’s reaction, or perhaps he briefly lost control while placing the fatal call. Whatever his reason, the movement put him right in the path of the cell phone.
It bounced into the truck bed. Nora turned and shouted to Barbara, who took shelter behind the trees. Before Nora could retreat more than a dozen feet, the shock wave hit.
As she smashed forward onto the pavement, she found herself thinking, Two bombs in one day is really too much.
Then, behind her, she heard Bud’s gas tank explode.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I’M GLAD TO SEE neither of us is dead,” Sam joked from where he reclined on the hospital examining table.
He’d suffered a spectacular array of cuts and contusions, some of which were already turning purple. Even wearing a hospital gown and covered with bandages, he still managed to look gorgeous, in Nora’s opinion.
“You scared the heck out of me.” She wanted to hug him, except she knew how painful that would be—for both of them.
She’d never been so happy in her life as when she’d seen him limping toward her to investigate the results of the blast. What a pair they must have made, her bleeding from her scraped hands and covered with grime, him stiff as a board in the paramedics’ neck brace as he helped her to her feet.
There’d been no chance for private conversation. Fire trucks had rushed over to extinguish the remains of what had been Bud’s truck, while other emergency personnel crowded around. And of course Nora’s first responsibility had been to make sure Barbara was delivered safely into the hands of her escort team.
“Thank you for saving my life,” Barbara had said before she left. “I wish I could do more to show my gratitude, but I’m too worried about my mom.”
“Please don’t let me stop you.” Nora had dusted herself off as best she could before allowing a paramedic to clean the scrapes on her palms. “My prayers go with you.”
Despite the Trigger’s demise, the case hadn’t yet been closed, so Barbara’s team had carried out the assigned guard duty. As for Nora, after she received a clean bill of health and gave a statement to the officer in charge, she’d driven to the hospital. Thank goodness she kept her keys, driver’s license and badge tucked into a pocket.
She’d found Sam in a curtained-off cubicle awaiting the doctor’s verdict. It seemed to her that they should both be brimming with meaningful things to say, yet aside from a superficial greeting, she hardly knew where to start.
The emotions that had rushed in on her were still too raw to sort out. The sight of him lying motionless on the pavement had taught Nora at the gut level what fear meant.
While her thoughts raced, Sam stared at the ceiling. When he spoke, all he said was, “I keep reviewing the clues, trying to figure out how we could have found the Trigger’s identity sooner.”
“I’m not worried about what could have been,” Nora said. “I’m just glad you found out when you did. He nearly got us.”
“I had no idea it was Bud.” He grimaced. “That jerk had us all fooled.”
A part of Nora grieved for the robust, seemingly good-natured man who’d been so helpful to others and who, but for his brother’s death, might have led a long and productive life. But Bud had chosen his own path. “I’ll leave it to the psychologists to explain how someone can become so corrupted by vengeance that he’d murder his own friends.”
“It’s up to us to finish determining how he did it.” Sam levered himself to a sitting position. “I’m going back to work.”
&
nbsp; “You can’t!”
He grimaced. “What I can’t do is sit around. We’ve got important ends to tie up.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she promised.
“You’re flying a desk until further notice and you know it.” Officers involved in fatalities had to be cleared before returning to active duty.
“Regardless, you’re in no condition to work,” she told him. “Not with a concussion.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re as muleheaded as ever,” she conceded. “That hasn’t changed, anyway.”
The curtain parted and Max Zirinsky poked his head inside. “Is this a private argument or can anyone join?”
“He’s being stubborn,” she said. “He thinks he’s Superman.”
The police chief studied Sam, who tugged irritably at the inadequate hospital garment. “I have Dan’s okay to give you the day off. More if you need it.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”
“Forensics is searching Bud’s house. We’re going over his locker and computer with a fine-tooth comb, as well,” he said. “As for you, Prophet, you need to recuperate. You wouldn’t want to cause a hike in our workman’s comp premium, would you?”
Sam ignored the attempt at humor. “We still don’t know how Bud gained access to inside information at the Wonderworld subsidiaries. He may have had an accomplice.”
“If the searches turn up anything that points to a conspirator, we’ll act on it immediately,” Max said.
Nora jumped in. “What’s my status, Chief? I could take care of this.”
“I’m trying to get you back in the field as fast as possible,” he said. “Based on your statement and the witnesses’, you did nothing wrong. But I have to run the facts by the D.A.’s office before we can reinstate you, and it won’t be today.”
“That means neither of us is out there working this case,” Sam argued. “And you need at least one of us. No offense to Grant, but if Bud had an associate, he or she could be across the border before we figure it out.” He slid off the gurney.
Instead of landing squarely on his feet, however, he swayed and had to grab the table for support. Nora reached him before Max did, sliding her shoulder under Sam’s arm to brace him.
She noted the swell of his rib cage as he caught his breath. Locking her arms around his waist, she held on. Although he remained upright, he couldn’t help putting some weight on her.
Nora didn’t mind. She liked being close to him. They still hadn’t found a way to communicate in words all they’d been through emotionally, but their bodies conveyed a sympathy of their own.
The doctor came in, her expression harried. No doubt she’d been dealing with a crowd of gashed and bruised restaurant patrons. “Mr. Prophet?” She regarded the patient disapprovingly. “Please lie down. I strongly recommend that you stay overnight for observation.”
He might have refused, except that he had to grip the table again. “Well…”
“The nurses will move you to a room,” the doctor said. “With concussions, we don’t like to take chances.”
For once in his life, Sam backed down. He didn’t look happy about it, but he could hardly demand to be released when he wasn’t able to stand under his own power. Wearing a dour expression, he sank onto the examining table.
Nora released him regretfully. She missed the contact.
When a nurse asked the visitors to step outside, Max and Nora complied without an argument. Judging by Sam’s scowl, he didn’t want them around anyway.
“Unless your hands are too sore, I’d like you to file a report about what happened today,” Max told Nora in the corridor.
She made a dismissive gesture. A few scrapes weren’t going to sideline her. “You got it.”
“And let me know if you need any help replacing whatever got blown up in your purse.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
Nora found a pay phone and put in a call to Sam’s mother. Angela calmed down as soon as she learned the injuries were treatable and promised that she and Mary would arrive shortly.
“I have to go back to work,” Nora told her. “I ought to warn you that he’s in a toxic mood.”
“Enforced bed rest, eh?” inquired his mother. “He never did like that.”
“Was he a difficult child?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“As tough as they come,” Angela said. “But you know what? Once he cheered up, he’d give me a big hug that more than compensated for it.”
Nora hoped she could look forward to the same treatment.
At the office, she complied with Max’s request. By the time she finished the report, the afternoon had vanished and her hands and neck were stinging like crazy.
SAM DOUBTED he would ever forget the moment when he’d heard the bomb explode behind the restaurant.
He’d been stretched on the pavement, his head throbbing but his heart satisfied because he’d saved the woman he was falling in love with. Yes, falling in love. He’d admitted that to himself on his frantic drive to the café, when he could think of nothing but finding a way to prevent tragedy.
Then the second bomb went off. For one black moment, he’d believed Nora must be dead. He knew she’d have put her life on the line to protect Barbara, and it didn’t seem possible that she’d escaped again.
He’d done his best and it wasn’t enough. He’d been blindsided, just as he had when the roof collapsed on his father.
Adrenaline and disbelief had powered him to his feet, despite the confining neck brace and the paramedics’ protests. When he rounded the building and saw Nora prone on the pavement, he must have gone into shock. Even when she’d pushed herself to a sitting position and Sam caught her scraped hand to help her up, he’d experienced only a kind of numb relief.
He didn’t know if he could bear to consider a future with a woman he might lose at any moment. Objectively, he knew that no relationship came with a guarantee, but most women didn’t go around making themselves into targets as Nora had done today, and might very well do again.
Sam stirred uncomfortably on the hard hospital bed and winced at the chorus of complaints from his body. He’d refused pain medication because he didn’t want his mind dulled. He intended to keep thinking about the case even if he couldn’t act, because some hidden fact might leap out at him.
As a downside, he couldn’t stop himself from mentally replaying the day’s events. The image of Nora flat on the ground, her hair spreading around her like a bloodstain, was engraved on his soul.
He knew better than to believe she would change her ways for his sake, even if by some lucky chance she loved him back. He didn’t know how to resolve this, how to make it work.
In the end, maybe it simply wasn’t possible.
NORA ARRIVED at the police station early on Wednesday to meet with Grant in the detective bureau and go over the results of the searches. His team had turned up a wealth of incriminating material, including plastic explosives, disassembled cell phone battery packs and copies of documents from Speedman Company, Finder Electronics and Esmee Engines.
Bud’s computers at work and at home had yielded an array of e-mails, including some that Nora had exchanged with Sam. Together with the mechanic’s background as a demolitions expert in the military, the information painted an eerie portrait of a man stalking his prey with lethal determination.
Nora wished she could have been part of the search. It particularly galled her that the bomb squad had had to recover the explosives without her supervision. At the same time, she understood that being temporarily confined to desk duty protected both her and the department.
“We think someone on the inside must have helped him obtain some of these documents,” Grant told her.
“Agreed,” she said. “And we’d better find him or her fast.”
“I can take care of it if you like,” Grant said. “Any suggestions?”
“I’d better find out what Max wants us to do,” Nora answered. “Sam will hit
the roof if we proceed without him.”
The detective regarded the piles of material grimly. “I’m happy to turn everything over to whoever the chief designates. It’s not as if I don’t have other things to work on.” He headed back to his own office.
As it turned out, Max found Nora minutes later in the hallway. “The D.A. cleared you,” he told her cheerily. “Back to work, Sergeant.”
She grinned. “That’s great news. How about my partner?”
“What, that grumpy old pain in the neck?” the police chief responded loudly. “I should think you’d be glad to get rid of him.”
His tone clued Nora to turn around. Sure enough, there stood Sam, his body held stiffly and the side of his face an interesting shade of blue-black.
To Nora, he looked wonderful. Still, Max’s presence and her own uncertainty held her greeting to a plain, “Good to see you.”
“You too.” Sam gave them each a nod. “I understand we’ve got an accomplice to track down. What do you say we start by reinterviewing Rose Chang?”
Nora refrained from teasing him about the fact that, unlike when they first began, he didn’t propose they examine all the evidence before taking action. “That suits me.”
“I’ll let Grant know you’re handling things from here,” the chief said.
Nora paused long enough to check on Carl Garcola. He was improving steadily, his wife told her. “He said he’s sorry your partner had to read his lips,” she added with a chuckle.
“What he told Investigator Prophet saved my life,” Nora answered. “Please thank him for me.”
A short time later, she and Sam headed for Speedman. They took another car the fire department had assigned while a repair shop replaced the blown-out windows on Sam’s sedan.
Nora would have preferred her intimate coupe. Still, she didn’t want to drive any more than necessary until her hands healed.
At least they were alone together. “Do you want to talk?” she asked as he put the car in reverse.
“Only about the case.” He headed away from the station.
The Trigger Page 22
