Funny how he’d once thought losing his leg was the worst thing he’d ever go through.
She leaned against the doorway, watching as he returned. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me, too.” He smiled.
“Good.” She cast a pointed gaze at the clock. “I’m guessing you have an early day tomorrow.”
“I do.” And he knew that raising Max Jr. on her own meant that she would have to rise early, too. “I should probably get going.” He threaded his arms into the sleeves of a well-worn leather bomber and tugged a knit cap over his head. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Allie’s mouth opened, then shut. A smile spread, and she nodded. “We’d like that.”
“Then I’ll be here. I’ll call if anything comes up, or if I’m running late.” He reached for the door when she didn’t move to let him out.
“Wait.” She wet her lips and searched his eyes. “Stay,” she said softly. Her shoulders tensed, and a measure of worry clouded her eyes. “Don’t go.”
“What?” He felt his brows furrow as confusion and hope battled in his heart. “You want me to stay. Here?”
“It makes sense,” she said, pursing her pretty red lips and crossing her arms. “Why go to a hotel when you can stay here? You’ll get extra time with Max Jr. before you have to leave town. The food is definitely better than whatever they’re serving at the hotel café, and the company’s not bad. I can make up the couch for you. I know you have a go bag in your truck with at least two days’ worth of work clothes.”
Max’s eyes never left hers as he stripped out of his coat and pulled off his hat, then set the pair gently on the arm of the nearby couch. A strange tension formed in his core.
Allie stepped forward slowly, only breaking their locked gaze when she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek to his chest.
He curved protective arms around her, exactly where they belonged, and he breathed in the scent of her skin, perfume and hair. He savored her warmth and the rhythm of her heartbeat against his core. “How about I make breakfast for us tomorrow? A thank-you for the delicious dinner and use of your couch.”
She laughed. “Deal. Max Jr. loves scrambled eggs. Lots of cheese. I prefer veggies.”
“Done.”
Her eyes were glossed with unshed tears as she released him. “I’ll get some blankets and pillows for the couch.”
She hurried away, and Max stared after her.
The tension he’d noted in his core suddenly began to feel a lot like hope. For what, he wasn’t sure, but it’d been a long time since he’d had any hope, and he planned to hold on to it as long as he could.
CHAPTER NINE
Allie woke to the sound of her alarm for the first time in two years. She hadn’t slept especially well during her pregnancy or any night since, and the sensation of waking without Max Jr.’s help was slightly disconcerting. She stopped the alarm, waiting for her son to call out, but there was a distinct silence in her home, save for some shuffling from the living room.
The previous day rushed back with an adrenaline slap. Max was in town. In her home. Right down the hall.
She jerked upright, then darted out of bed and raced for the shower. Thirty harried minutes later, she was as fresh and calm as possible, given the fact she was about to see Max again.
Allie padded barefoot toward the kitchen, following the delightful sounds of her baby’s laughter and inhaling the rich, cheesy scent of scrambled eggs and her blessed morning coffee. Max came slowly into view around the corner, their son on one hip as he danced and sang to “Purple Rain” by Prince. His strong, protective arms held him tight as they dipped and turned. Black pants accentuated Max’s fit physique. His gray sweater clung to the toned curves of his chest and biceps.
His phone was plugged into her dock on the counter, a familiar playlist lifting from its speaker. The baby monitor was dark, powered off, beside the dock.
Max Jr. laughed and smacked his daddy’s chest with chubby, gleeful palms.
Max caught hers a moment later, not at all surprised by her presence. “Good morning.” His gaze traveled slowly over her, steadily raising her temperature. “This guy gets up almost as early as his daddy.”
She shuffled forward, making a memory of the scene before her, not realizing how many similar moments she’d too easily forgotten. “Don’t pretend you slept.”
“What?” Max asked. “Just because I’m at least a foot longer than that couch?”
She crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Because you don’t sleep. We haven’t been apart so long that I’ve forgotten how you are while on a case.” Allie peeked over her shoulder, into the living area behind her.
Max had folded up the blankets and stacked his pillow neatly on top, but a coffee mug, two empty water bottles and a stack of papers cluttered the coffee table beside his open laptop. He must’ve brought that in from his SUV after she went to bed, along with the change of clothes he was wearing and his toiletries. There was no denying he’d had a shower, or that he’d used his favorite soaps and cologne. Both scents were far more delicious-smelling than anything on the stovetop.
Max carried their son to his high chair and strapped him securely in, then went to plate the eggs he’d scrambled. “I stayed in touch with the team in case of new developments.”
“Trying to locate Fritz O’Lear and determine his next target?” she guessed, moving into the kitchen.
“That’s about it.” Max smiled.
Allie kissed Max Jr.’s chubby cheeks and stroked his soft curls. Then she poured a mug of coffee from the fresh pot. “Any luck?”
“No, but I’m more familiar with the case now. A very good thing,” Max said.
Allie agreed. “Everything smells amazing,” she said. “Thank you for this. Max Jr. and I usually just have fruit and cereal.”
Max ferried their plates to the table, setting his and Allie’s across from one another, with Max Jr.’s in between.
Allie watched her ex-husband closely, missing him and mornings like these more than she’d realized. “How are you holding up with this case?” she asked. “You don’t get a lot of bombers. And I mean you personally, not the team—how are you really doing?”
Max’s gaze flicked to her. He sat straighter, forearms on the table. “You’re the only one who’s asked that.”
“Everyone else is wondering,” she said. “They don’t want to be rude or overstep.”
“Not you,” he said, expression blank but searching.
“No. Not me.” Allie softened her tone, not wanting to push Max, but needing him to understand he mattered. Not just his physical safety, but his feelings, too. His mental and emotional health were important and valuable. Max was more than a conduit or tool to reach an objective. He was human. And he’d once been her human. “I’m more concerned about how you’re doing than my manners. You’re dealing with memories your team members aren’t, and you’re carrying a burden they don’t understand. I want to know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
She smiled. “Just like that?” she asked. “It’s not a sign of weakness to admit this is hard for you, Max.”
His jaw set. “It’s my job to carry on without letting my feelings get in the way.”
She would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. He’d been on a case when she’d served him with divorce papers. She hadn’t planned that, but the TCD went where it was needed, when it was needed. Max included. He’d stayed the course. Caught the bad guy, then moved out after he’d come home. “No, I guess you don’t.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s okay.” She lifted her fork and ate every bite of her eggs without another word. Determined to keep her tongue busy before she said something she’d regret.
She and Max were lucky to have an ami
cable divorce. Most people only dreamed of a relationship as civil as theirs eight months out. “I just want you to be happy, healthy and cared for,” she said, the minute her breakfast was gone. “You spend all your time caring for others. Someone has to make sure you’re also taking care of you.”
His sour expression loosened. “I’m okay, Allie.” He reached for her hand across the table, then curled his fingers around hers. “This is my job, and I’m good at it. I’m probably feeling all the ways you think I am, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
One more thing that hadn’t changed. Max had always told her his pain kept him vigilant.
His phone buzzed, and he released her to retrieve it from his pocket.
Allie recognized Axel’s face as Max swiped the screen to life. “Go on. Take the call. I’ll clean up.”
Max ducked into the living room, tidying the coffee table as he spoke with his friend and supervisor.
Allie cleared the breakfast table, then refilled her coffee while she waited.
When Max returned, his expression was one of regret and anticipation. “I have to go.”
She unfastened Max Jr. from the high chair and passed him to Max for a kiss, then hugged him against her hip when Max returned him. “We’ll walk you to the door.”
Max donned his coat and hat, then paused to look at Allie and Max Jr.
The familiar tug of hope and fear churned in her core. “Be safe.”
“Always.” He leaned in to kiss their son once more, then stroked Allie’s cheek. “Please stay home from the mall today. We don’t know who else could be on this guy’s hit list, and there are a lot of people working where you do. Any one of them could be a target, which would put you in danger. I can’t live with that.”
Allie pressed her lips tight, aching to heed his warning, without behaving too rashly. Grand Rapids was a big town, and there was no reason to assume the mall would ever become a target, let alone the specific area near her kiosk. “I can work on custom orders and invoicing from home, but when that’s all caught up, I have to make new sales if I’m going to stay afloat. I can’t stay here indefinitely.”
“Give me seventy-two hours,” he said. “Or as much time as you can. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’ll try.”
A slow smile of satisfaction spread across his face. “See you again tonight.”
She smiled. “I’ll cook. All you have to do is show up, preferably uninjured.” She set a palm against his strong jaw and rose onto her toes, then pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Max lifted her hand from his cheek and pressed a kiss against her fingertips. “See you tonight.”
* * *
MAX’S HEART BEAT hard and fast as he drove away from Allie’s house, heading back to the TCD’s temporary headquarters at the Grand Rapids Police Department. Axel had called the team together for a morning meeting, and Max didn’t want to miss anything. He clutched the wheel and concentrated on the roads as he pressed the gas pedal with more purpose, images of his perfect little boy and beautiful ex-wife flashing warmly in his mind. He needed to locate and apprehend Fritz O’Lear before he hurt anyone else. Before he injures or kills someone else’s child or loved one.
The woman at the police department desk buzzed Max through the locked security door before he had a chance to stop and raise his badge.
Most of the team was already in place as he entered the conference room. Anticipation was palpable in the air.
Axel met Max at the front of the long table, dressed in a gray suit and holding a massive disposable cup of coffee. “How was breakfast?”
“Excellent. I made it.” Max fought a smile. He’d told Axel he was staying at Allie’s last night when Axel texted, wanting to meet him at the hotel bar. The confession had resulted in a long, slow whistle from Axel.
Axel waited for additional information. He raised the giant cup to his lips when the details didn’t come. “So you’ll be back at the hotel tonight?”
Max’s traitorous lips twitched. “No.”
He stepped around Axel, then took a seat.
Axel narrowed his eyes. “Interesting.” He lowered into the chair across from Max, keeping close watch on his friend.
Max frowned at Axel’s summarization. “It’s definitely that.”
There had been moments this morning when he’d felt certain there was something more still there between Allie and him, but he couldn’t be sure or allow himself to dwell. Not now. Not when there was a bomber on the loose, and Max needed his head in the game.
The remaining members of their team filtered in, filling the last few chairs around the table.
Rihanna pulled the door shut behind them. “Good morning. Glad to see everyone’s here.” She lifted a remote and pointed it at the large projector screen. “Let’s go ahead and get started.”
The screen lit, and Opaline appeared. She waved and smiled. Her hot-pink lips parted, exposing a wide set of perfect white teeth. “Hello! Good morning,” she said. “I hope some of you managed to get a little sleep last night. I didn’t.” She laughed, then lifted a bowl-sized coffee mug into view. “How about we recap before moving forward? You guys first.”
The team members took turns sharing theories and tidbits they’d unearthed about the victims’ lives.
Selena took the initiative to sum up the offerings. “So I think we were on the right track yesterday, by assuming this is a vengeance mission. He’s targeting people he thinks did him wrong.”
Carly tapped her pen against her chin, nodding as Selena spoke. She turned her attention to the team when Selena finished. “I’ve seen this pattern of behavior a lot. It’s a top motivator in cases involving poison. On the surface, poisonings and bombings seem incredibly different, but their perpetrators are often very similar. In both types of crimes, the killer often sees him-or herself as an underdog. They make a deadly power play from a distance that keeps them safe.”
“Agreed,” Opaline said, pointing a lime-green fingernail at the camera. “Good. I love it when we’re single-minded.” She clicked her mouse a few times, then looked back at the camera. “I was able to dig up some details on Fritz O’Lear.”
The team shifted, collectively, eager for whatever she’d unearthed. According to their shared thoughts and input, none of them had had any more luck than Max last night.
Opaline smiled, and the team’s phones began to buzz. “I just sent you everything I have. It’s not a lot, but it’s more than we had last night, and I’m confident there will be more to come as this day moves forward. These details have been brought to you by a steady stream of energy drinks and the legendary Lopez tenacity.”
Max opened the message and read the brief bullet-point list. Distant family members. Hobbies, including bowling and billiards. “This is a good start, Opaline.”
He stood to address the table, unable to be still any longer. “Let’s break this list down, split up and move out. We need photos of O’Lear posted at every local pool hall and bowling alley. We’ll reach out to the distant family members and try to come away with more leads from each stop. Someone knows where this guy is, and we need to find him. Today.”
CHAPTER TEN
Max followed Axel up the cracked walkway to Fritz O’Lear’s building once more. Again the neighborhood was quiet, everyone likely kept inside by the cold. “If he doesn’t answer this time, let’s knock on some other doors. See what the neighbors think of him.” And maybe enlist the local PD in surveilling the man’s home until he showed up.
Axel stopped on the small stoop and waved to a man, visible through the cruddy double-paned security window. “Agreed.”
Hopefully, the residents would talk. Convincing neighbors, family or friends to share information with law enforcement wasn’t always as easy as it should be, and even when people opened up, there was the matter of confirming their tales. Some people were honest
and helpful, but others held back for a variety of reasons. Fear of retaliation by the criminal in question or of being flagged as a narc were common holdups, as well as an unfortunate and misguided distrust of officials.
Feelings of allegiance to the suspect were the toughest to get past. It was sometimes hard to convince a friend or family member that their loved one could’ve been involved in any illegal activity. And on the flip side, there were folks who knew absolutely nothing about the person or problem at hand but intentionally tied up the investigation with all sorts of unfounded stories and blatant lies. Some of those folks were bored, lonely and desperate for the attention. Others were simply troublemakers.
The old man inside the building inched closer to the window, peering back at the agents. Confusion crumbled his bushy salt-and-pepper brows. “Who are you? What do you want?” he asked through the door.
Axel raised his badge. “FBI.”
The man squinted at the badge, then swung his attention from Axel to Max. He seemed to weigh his options before deciding to do the right thing.
The door clicked open, and the man cocked his head. “Is that thing real?”
“Yes.” Axel stepped forward, pushing his way inside.
The man fumbled to get out of the way, eyes wide. “What’s going on?” His hands were full of envelopes and flyers. One of the doors in the bank of mailboxes was open. He hurried around to close and lock it.
Max did his best to look authoritative without intimidating the older gentleman. “Thanks for letting us in. It’s getting cold out there.”
“What’s this about?” the man asked. “What happened?”
“We’re Special Agents Morrow and McRay,” Axel explained, tapping his chest, then pointing to Max. “Have you lived here long?”
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