The White Lily

by Susanne Matthews

  “It never crossed my mind.”

  The idea of sending the rest of his nieces and nephews to safety in Australia appealed to him. Space wasn’t an issue any more than money was. The women would be safe in Melbourne, with its easier climate, and they’d never have to see the brethren, as Faye had called them. It was doable and would rob his uncle of his prizes. That was bound to smoke the bastard out. All he had to do was convince the women to leave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lilith followed Jacob out to the car, admiring the way his jeans hugged his thighs. She hadn’t asked, but with a lean, fit body like his, he had to work out regularly. She used to, but now her exercise was limited to jogging with as much of her covered up as possible. The temperature had dropped, and she was grateful she still wore her suit jacket. She raised her hand to finger the large antique locket she wore under her blouse. Believing the good guys could find her anywhere, even when she got lost in the city, was part of her security blanket. The other was the LED flashlight she carried with her always.

  While it was dark out, there was more than enough brightness here to stave off a panic attack caused by her achluophobia. Solar lights edged each side of the sidewalk, and the streetlamps were aglow. It was almost eleven, and the night was clear, the sky awash in stars.

  “Well, it looks like we won’t have rain tonight after all.”

  “No, and that’s a waxing gibbous moon, nice and clear. It seems less bright than it does on either of my farms. I suppose it could be your infamous air pollution or perhaps the city lights.” He searched the sky. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen these particular stars. I’m glad I can still recognize some of them.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about that,” she said, trying to pick out the star patterns she’d learned in school. “So many things are different, aren’t they? You drive on the other side of the road, have animals and plants found nowhere else on earth, so I guess it makes sense you’d be looking up at different star constellations, too.”

  “Yes and no. We have the Southern Cross that you don’t; it’s what sailors used to navigate by since we can’t see the North Star.”

  “You can’t?”

  He put his arm around her shoulders, flooding her with heat, and pointed up at the sky. “There’s Ursa Major, most people call it the Big Dipper. It can only be seen in the northernmost parts of the Southern Hemisphere. We can’t see it in Australia because we’re way too far south. Other constellations, like Orion over there, are flipped around and upside down. Even the moon is flipped.”

  While she’d have been happy to stand there with Jacob’s arm around her, pretending they were on a date and could watch the stars until sunrise, she heard the door open and quickly moved out of his arms.

  “Thanks for agreeing to drive me back,” he said, getting into the car. “I didn’t fancy another cab ride.”

  Lilith laughed. “I don’t usually dump my dates unless they’re insufferable bores—not that this is a date or anything,” she stammered and could imagine the color rising in her cheeks. “If you prefer, you can get in with the guys behind us.”

  “No, thanks,” he said. “Partners ride together. I’ll do my best not to bore you on the way back.”

  “Munroe,” Rob shouted from the doorway before she could answer. “Get over here.”

  She frowned. What does he want now?

  She hurried up to the stoop. Rob was on his cell phone, and from the look on his face, he wasn’t happy.

  He turned to her. “There’s been an explosion at the Quincy Market. They need as much help as they can get. The good news is we’re back on the clock, so you’ll probably be able to buy another pair of those ridiculously expensive shoes you love. Leave your car here. You’re getting in with me. Tom will drive Jacob back to the hotel and meet us there, as will Amos.”

  “Casualties?”

  “More than a dozen, three confirmed dead.”

  “Do they know what it is?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll bet the media will be spinning it as a terrorist attack. Hopefully, it was a gas leak. Go square things with Jacob, and I’ll meet you at my car. I need to change and get my weapon.”

  Lilith hurried back to the car and opened the passenger door.

  “Sorry, but it looks like I’m not driving you home after all. There’s a crisis downtown, and we’re all back on the job. Tom will take you back to the hotel.”

  “I’m being dismissed?” he asked, frowning. “I thought I was your partner.”

  “You are, but this has nothing to do with the Harvester case or your uncle, and you’re still a civilian here until those credentials come through. It’s a Boston civil emergency, and we have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll accompany you to the Nashua Street Jail. Can you be at the station around eleven?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She locked the car.

  “You’re leaving it here?”

  “Yes. I’ll get it tomorrow. I’m getting in with Rob. I’d probably get lost if I tried to find it myself,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She didn’t want to think of this afternoon’s threat. They walked over to the uniformed officers who were listening intently to their radio.

  “Change of plans, fellows. I’m getting in with Detective Halliday. You’re to call the station for reassignment.”

  “You got it, Agent Munroe. I don’t think any of us will get much sleep tonight. They’ll probably need us for crowd control.”

  The patrol car pulled away from the curb, leaving her and Jacob standing next to Tom’s green sedan. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

  Moving away to wait for Rob up the driveway, she was startled when Jacob touched her arm.

  “Be careful, Lilith. The man who sent the flowers is still out there. If it’s Pierce, a commotion like you’ll find down there would be a perfect chance for him to act.”

  Lilith was about to answer when Tom materialized beside her. “You’re right, Jacob, but Rob and I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  Rob stepped out of the house, pressing the fob on his keychain, and the doors on the car unlocked.

  “You’re the lucky one tonight, Jacob,” Rob said, opening the door. “You get to have some sleep, while the rest of us get to work.”

  “I wish I were going with you,” Jacob said, and Lilith heard the concern in his voice.

  Rob cocked his head to the side.

  “I’d be happy to have you, but you’d be hard to explain to Boston PD. As far as everyone but this task force knows, you’re a tourist—an armed one at that. Don’t worry. Trevor says he’ll have your documentation in the morning. Apparently you get an FBI badge ... I don’t even have one of those.”

  “He’s not worried about that. He thinks Pierce might decide to crash the party and make a play for her,” Tom said.

  “I’ll be fine,” Lilith said, more bravely than she felt after being reminded of the man after her. She tried to dismiss the warmth deep inside her at the thought Jacob cared enough to worry about her. “I’ll have two of Boston’s finest with me, and I’m armed. Pierce won’t stand a chance. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Opening the passenger door, she got inside before Jacob could say or do anything else, and he nodded to her, waved, and walked back to the car with Tom. As soon as they were inside the vehicle, it pulled away from the curb. Lilith wished she were going with him and that they could be far more than friends.

  Who am I kidding? He can’t change who he is and neither can I.

  “Seat belt,” Rob admonished. “Let’s get the show on the road.” He backed the vehicle out of his driveway and followed Tom and Jacob up the street. As soon as he was on the main thoroughfare, he turned on the lights and the siren and headed to the Quincy Market.

  Lilith chewed her lower lip. She’d never been to the aftermath of an explosion. She’d seen pictures
of the federal building in Oklahoma City after McVeigh had done his dirty work and hoped it wouldn’t be anything like that. She wanted to ask Rob for more details—after all, he’d been on the phone for at least five minutes—but the scowl he wore kept her quiet.

  “Are you armed?” Rob asked as he slowed down because of heavier traffic.

  “Yes, Trevor insists I keep my gun with me at all times. Why? Are you expecting trouble?” While she did exceptionally well on the gun range, she’d never actually fired her weapon in the line of duty. And here I was worrying about Jacob with a gun.

  “I don’t know what the hell I’m expecting,” he answered, frustration and anxiety making his words sharp. “Sorry, I’m not angry with you. I just hate going into something like this blind. When I spoke to Faye just before I came out to the car, she said it was being reported as a terrorist attack, and that’s going to do two things: bring out all the crazies and scare the devil out of everyone else.” He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture she’d seen him do more frequently in the last two days.

  “Faye must be chomping at the bit not being able to come down here with us.”

  “Yeah. All of this is driving her crazy. She loves to be in the thick of things, but the doctor’s ordered her off her feet for another two weeks. I’m not sure what hurts more—her ankle or her pride.” He chuckled. “I told her to be careful climbing on the rocks, but my wife can be a tad stubborn.”

  “Well I hope you didn’t ‘I told you so’ her too much.”

  “I was so worried when I saw her fall, I don’t think I even had time to think it, let alone say it, and I’m smart enough not to do it now.”

  “I’ll bet she’s climbed those rocks a hundred times before and never had a problem.”

  “And you’d be right,” Rob said and shook his head. “Well, at least it’s giving her time to sort out her notes. She’s going to write a book about this case as soon as we have the Harvester in jail. She’s got her mother for company, but...”

  “Jacob can’t figure out where all the people in the cult have come from, and Faye’s comment about women’s childbearing age concerns me. He may not recognize any of those people, and they may not know him. I don’t know what we’ll do if they don’t speak to him.”

  The light changed, and Rob eased the car forward once more.

  “Faye thinks his resemblance to Jimmy might work in his favor. They’re gullible and may see him as the Prophet’s heir or some such nonsense. He may have to work with that whether he likes it or not.”

  “He’s determined they see him as just an ordinary man trying to help them and set things straight. I wonder how many guys will volunteer to go to Australia to look after them.”

  “Fully paid Australian vacation—they’ll be fighting over the applications.” He laughed. “I would.”

  “Maybe if you did, you could get your wife to go,” she said.

  “I’m not getting into that. I can’t. I need to be here until the bastard’s caught. Besides, he threatened you.”

  “Not really. That was just a head game to throw me off. I’m over it. I’ll be careful, don’t worry, but he isn’t going to scare me away.”

  “Well, if this is a bombing, it’s another example of what’s wrong with people lately, and it pisses me off,” he said. “I think of myself as open minded, but I just don’t get the reasoning that says it’s acceptable to hurt and kill a whole lot of people just because they disagree with your philosophies. Look at the Prophet. This plan he has for the Great Burning, whatever the hell it is, may kill hundreds, even thousands if those people in jail can’t lead us to him. Over the years, many people have died in the name of religion or politics, but instead of learning from those horrors, they seem to be increasing in frequency. Now, if this was a bomb as the media seems to think, which outfit will claim responsibility?”

  Visions of the bombings she’d seen on television of shops in Syria and other countries came to mind. In her years with the FBI, she’d dealt with a variety of sick, sadistic criminals like Rivers, but no terrorists, although, like everyone else, she’d been briefed on ISIS and the Taliban, as well as some of the potentially dangerous anarchist cults on Homeland Security’s watch list.

  “I don’t know. It could be anyone from a foreign terrorist group to a dishwasher gone postal. As an analyst, I should say something brilliant here, but all I can do is repeat what was attributed to Gandhi. ‘An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.’ In our line of work, we’re aware of what people can do. We just have to hope one of those people tomorrow does remember Jacob and is willing to tell him where he can find the others.”

  Rob pulled the car to the curb. Emergency vehicles blocked off the road ahead.

  “It looks like we’ll have to walk from here,” he said as an ambulance, siren blaring, raced up the street. “Will you be able to manage?” He indicated her shoes—the tangerine mules with the five-inch heels she’d donned this morning.

  “Not in these,” she said, toeing off her footwear, “but I come prepared.” She opened her purse and removed the flats she kept there for situations like this.

  “Faye has some of those, too,” he said. “She usually ends up wearing them by early afternoon. We’re about four long blocks away. I guess we’d better go.”

  Lilith locked her bag in the trunk as Rob suggested. She slipped her notebook and stylus into her pocket. Her gun was in her shoulder holster under her jacket.

  As they moved closer to the scene of the explosion, she was stunned to see more people moving toward the tragedy than away from it. My God. It was almost midnight. Didn’t these people sleep? Disasters brought out a morbid curiosity in people. It was like an accident on the highway—everyone slowed down to get a good look.

  “Stick close to me,” Rob said. “I don’t want to lose you in this crowd. This is the perfect setting for lowlife that pray on others—purse snatchers, pickpockets, you name it. They’re in their element in close quarters like these. Jacob has a point about Pierce. He could get in and out quickly if he chose to.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t,” she said, repressing a shudder. “Do you think we’ll have to watch for looters, too?”

  “Maybe not right now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried to take advantage of the situation once things quiet down. As they say, scum floats to the top of the pond, and there’ll be all kinds of scum around later.”

  Lilith trotted beside, and occasionally behind, Rob, grateful he kept checking to make sure she was by his side. As they approached the South Market area, the crowd grew even thicker, and Rob had to forcefully push his way through.

  They finally reached the crime scene with the familiar yellow tape cordoning off the area, and Rob lifted it to duck underneath it. Within seconds, a SWAT team member brandished his weapon, a semiautomatic rifle, in their faces.

  “Get the hell back behind that tape,” the man said, shoving Lilith so hard that had she not been holding Rob to steady herself, she’d have fallen.

  “And you, knucklehead, had better take your hands off Special Agent Munroe before I break them. You need to ask questions before you start shoving people.” He pulled out his badge. “Detective Halliday. We were told to report here. Tell me you’re not the one in charge.”

  The young officer blanched. “No, sir. That would be Captain Edwards. He’s over by the black van. I’m sorry for pushing you, ma’am. It’s a zoo here. I’ve been trying to keep the gawkers and the idiots with cell phones back. I’m not normally SWAT. This is my first week on the force ...”

  “It’s okay,” she said, trying to make the rookie feel better. “No harm done.” Rob was right, the man should’ve asked before he shoved, but judging by the curiosity seekers, he had a hell of a job to do. She smiled at him and followed Rob over to the command vehicle. Hell of a first week on the job.

  The scene looked like something out of a Hollywood disaster movie. On the right, a dozen paramedics, and what she assumed were doctors and nurs
es in spite of the clothes they wore, worked in a makeshift triage area. Military personnel, probably from the USS Constitution and the Coast Guard, were setting up floodlights.

  One by one, the more seriously injured were loaded into ambulances that inched their way through the crowd. Didn’t people realize their presence here was hampering rescue efforts? Next to the injured were the others who’d been in the bar. They’d all be checked for signs of stress and shock, not to mention questioned about what they’d seen inside. Further to the left, she counted three covered lumps—bodies—that would be loaded into the hearses as soon as the critical cases were all transferred.

  “I worked the marathon bombing,” Rob said, standing close beside her. “I’d hoped never to see anything like this again.”

  Lilith nodded. “I saw it on television. One of the agents I used to work with was running, but she wasn’t near the attack.”

  They arrived beside the van. “Captain Edwards?” Rob asked.

  “That’s me. Who’s asking?” a harried man in his mid-fifties said, coming over to them. His white shirt stretched taut over his large belly, the buttons in danger of popping and putting out someone’s eye. His tie was askew, and Lilith noticed that, like Rob, the man had a tendency to run his hands through his sparse, gray hair.

  “Halliday and Munroe,” Rob said, flashing his credentials as she did hers. “We’re from Schroeder Plaza. Agent Munroe is with the BAU. What have we got here?”

  “Three dead, sixteen injured. It could’ve been a lot worse. Wednesdays are slow nights here. On a Friday, the place would’ve been packed. I have some of my men over there questioning those who escaped unharmed—or as unharmed as you can be in a situation like this one.”

  “So it’s a bomb?”

  “It certainly looks that way. Someone dropped a backpack on the chair, had a few drinks, and then walked away. No one paid any attention because they thought she was going to get a refill. Ten minutes later, the damn thing went off. We can’t be sure yet, but my money says it was a pipe bomb. The fireball was big enough to do a fair amount of damage, but the shrapnel ... damn Internet. There’s such a thing as providing too much information. We’ll look through all the pictures and cameras in the area and hope we get lucky, but so far, the description we have won’t be much help—a white woman in jeans and a denim jacket, wearing a Red Sox cap, with a long, brown ponytail probably describes half the female students in the Boston area.”