“What if they don’t listen?”
“Just go, Kristin! Go!” Still bent down, he tipped his head to peer at the door more closely.
“What about you?”
“Go!”
She backed up a few more feet, hating her suddenly nervous chatter. At the stairs beside the elevator, she stopped and turned, ripping her watery vision from Zane. He hadn’t moved, merely stared at the trip wire, his right hand still holding that tissue that had probably saved their lives.
Then he slowly straightened, and she pushed open the stairwell door, all the while yanking out her cell phone.
Her shaking hands wouldn’t punch out those three easy numbers. Instead, as she hurried to the back of the parking lot, she struggled just to hold the stupid phone still.
A hand behind her reached for her phone and she jumped.
Zane took her phone and dialed the emergency number, the whole time guiding them past the parking lot onto a strip of grass some fifty feet or more from the building. Over her pounding heart, she barely heard him explain what they’d found, that there were others still inside. Zane calmly stated everything.
Zane continued to use the phone, calling people. It took a few minutes for her to realize he was calling those who rented other offices to ensure everyone got out of the building.
The wind lifted his straight dark hair as he turned a full circle, checking out the surroundings. Satisfied by something, he led her behind a small storage hut close to the next building. The wind released his hair when they rounded the corner.
She swallowed. His office had been sabotaged? Someone wanted Zane dead? Was it because of her?
A nudge drew her back to reality. She looked down at her arm to find Zane was returning her cell phone. “Is there anyone left in the building?” she asked.
“No. I called everyone.”
She looked toward the building, seeing others exiting quickly. In the distance, sirens grew louder with each ticking second. As she turned, her gaze collided with Zane’s. He had such beautiful eyes. The color was cool, as sharp as blue could be, and yet there was a warmth she couldn’t describe. A haunting warmth borne of worry and concern.
He cared for people. She reached out and touched his arm. “It’s okay. The police will know what to do. They’ll save your office and they’ll—”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about my office. I was thinking that we could have both died. And so could have a lot of innocent people.”
“Thank God we didn’t.”
His short, hesitant glance came with a flick of dark eyebrows. “Yes, one might thank Him. But it’s more—”
He stopped, as if censoring his own words. She couldn’t ask him to finish his sentence. The police van had arrived, an officer leaping from the passenger side to tell them to back up farther. The other officer approached Zane to ask where he thought the bomb was.
Eventually, the firefighters from Kalispell pulled in with a hazardous materials trailer. Someone dressed in what looked like a brown space suit entered the building. It seemed as though everyone was holding a full collective breath. Half an hour later, the space suit guy walked out of the building with a round metal ball. He set it into another machine in the trailer. Everyone around them cheered.
Kristin hugged herself tightly, watching as she backed into the next building, listening as Zane eventually gave his statement, watching until finally, thankfully, it was all over. Zane then told her that they were going to the police station to offer fingerprints so the police could eliminate them should they be able to lift some from the building.
A car pulled up, its side door logo telling them the reporters from Westbrook’s paper had arrived. Zane grabbed Kristin’s arm and steered her away from the commotion. “Let’s go. I don’t feel like answering any more questions right now.”
She nodded. The police had intercepted the reporter, and onlookers who’d gravitated to the scene were more than willing to offer their opinions. Before the reporter could even look for them, Kristin and Zane were gone.
After a few minutes, Zane parked near the police station, a busy place where several cars filled the visitor spots. On the way, she called to delay her meeting with Clay by a couple of hours. “After this, we’ll head down to Missoula,” Zane said after listening to her call. “It’s best that we steer clear of the action.”
After they gave and signed their statements, Zane asked the officer, a different one than the one who’d taken her statement yesterday, “That vest that was brought in yesterday, the one belonging to Kristin Perry, has it been processed yet?”
The man looked confused. “The one from the woman who says she was pushed into traffic?”
Heat rose in Kristin’s face as she leaned forward. “I was pushed. Did you find out what that stuff was on it? It looked like there were two smudges from two hands.”
“It was checked, but there’s nothing on it, I’m afraid. I’ll get it to show you.”
He returned a moment later with her vest. And flipped the vest repeatedly.
There were no grease marks on it at all.
Gaping, Kristin spread the vest out across the desk between her and the police officer. “Someone has cleaned this!”
Zane took the vest and sniffed the back. “It’s got a solvent smell to it.” He peered up at the police officer. “Who checked it out?”
“I was asked to do the prelim on it. That’s how I found it. There was nothing to lift off. Are you sure there were smudges on it?”
“Of course there were,” Kristin answered tightly. “Or else the police officer would never have taken it and wasted the resources. Who has had access to this?”
The officer didn’t answer. Zane smiled briefly at Kristin, the expression in his eyes saying, You go, girl. He turned to the police officer. “You’ve been busy here today.”
The man folded his arms. “Yes, but I can’t tell you who has been here, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, but you do know who might have had access to that evidence. Even if they’re not allowed to. And you have security cameras, so why not check them?”
The police officer looked over Zane’s shoulders at a pair of middle-aged men who had just entered. ID cards dangled from lanyards around their necks. The men walked past them, as Zane turned to watch, though not before looking knowingly at the officer in front of him, Kristin noted. The officer then watched the two visitors carefully.
She curbed a smile. Zane had done enough to plant the seed of doubt in the officer’s mind. She leaned over the counter. “Can I take my vest, then, if you’re done with it?”
“Of course. I’m sorry it wasn’t useful.”
She signed a sheet to accept her vest, watching out of the corner of her eye at Zane. He kept a close eye on the men as they were allowed to pass into the rear of the station. She followed his stare, noticing one of the men had a slight limp and the other wore a smug expression. When they reached the back offices, one man turned to meet her curious gaze.
His short gray hair and heavyset frame didn’t seem out of place. He must be another police officer. She frowned. At this distance, across the busy room, she didn’t recognize him. Yet, he looked right at her as if he recognized her….
Oh, good grief, he was probably thinking she was that nutcase college student who thought she’d been pushed into traffic.
Embarrassed, she looked away, grabbed her vest and muttered her thanks. Outside, she rolled up the vest and tucked it under her arm.
Even Zane seemed preoccupied, as he led her to his car and clicked the unlock button tersely. After they climbed in, he turned to her. “Someone cleaned your vest.”
“I know. But why?”
“I don’t know. Did you notice those other men?”
“They probably think I’m that crazy girl who thinks someone is after her. Did you catch their names?”
“No. I think they’re U.S. Marshals.” He tightened his lips.
Kristin’s eyes widened. �
�What would the U.S. Marshals be doing here?”
“Among other things, U.S. Marshals are responsible for rounding up fugitives from justice. And remember that Martino is a fugitive now.”
“So everyone knows to be on the lookout for him, then.”
“Absolutely. He’s making national news, and some show on TV is doing a special on his escape, hoping someone will help to locate him. But their reason for being here may not have anything to do with us.”
“Good thing we’re going to Missoula and not hanging around just in case it does.”
He ran his tongue along his lips, staring ahead of him, out the windshield. “Indeed.”
“Zane? Do you honestly believe that Martino is after me?” When he didn’t answer, she pressed further. “I deserve to know. Don’t try to shelter me, Zane. I got that all my life from my parents, but I’m not a child anymore.”
“The truth isn’t all sugary and sweet, Kristin, like your life has been. Christians like to see life that way, but it’s not, and I don’t know if you’re ready for that.”
She gaped at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but held back. He was right. She’d been sheltered and cared for and shown God’s love in a warm, loving environment.
She gulped back her revelation. Had she actually thought she could handle real life?
Suddenly, she didn’t want to be shielded from the world. “Yes, I’m ready. My mother gave me up for adoption and disappeared to save my life. My parents kept the letter she wrote to Jackson, maybe to prove to me that the world wasn’t safe. When they thought I was ready to hear that.”
“Do you have the letter on you?”
“No, it’s in the file I found in my father’s safe, now in my father’s filing cabinet at home. Jake is still repairing the safe. He had to drill into the side of it, in order to figure the combination with this tiny camera we had. Now he has to fill the hole in, sand it down and repaint it. I told him not to hurry with that. There was no point.”
“I’d like to see that file.”
“Most of it seems to be records of business trips. I can hardly make any sense out of it, but I haven’t sat down and tried, either. I told you I don’t know much more about my biological mother. What do you expect to find?”
He didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward to start the engine, and then stopped, staring at the keys.
“Zane?”
“After we left the restaurant, I called my office building’s security to tell them that you’d be staying there. We heard someone lurking around the corner of the restaurant. Then I said it again in that sporting goods shop. Someone must have overheard me and thought you’d be the next person going to my office.”
“Someone must have known you, then.”
“That’s quite possible. I’m the only private investigator in a small town. And I did a talk for the high-school students on a career day. Lots of people know who I am.”
“What are you getting at?”
“They were expecting you at my office, not me.” He looked grim. “That bomb was for you, Kristin. And these people don’t care who they kill at the same time.”
SEVEN
“How is that possible? I mean, from the time you wanted me to go to your office to the time we got there was how long?”
“Remember, I didn’t go into my office yesterday. I got my second car and then went home to do my research. Whoever did this had nearly twenty hours. My office is the last down the hall on a floor that isn’t busy. And the bomb was a pretty simple device, not hard to put together.” He looked grim. “Kristin, Vincent Martino escaped custody and it’s logical to assume that he wants Eloise dead. Maybe they did follow you here from the trial?”
“They had plenty of opportunity to kill me on my trip through New England. Even climbing Mount Katahdin in Maine, there were times when I was separated from my friend, and they could have killed me then. If they followed me here, they would have had plenty of time to kill me before now.”
“Then someone only recently got the list of who would be allowed in the court. Or else more people than you realize know you’re adopted. Jake maybe? He opened your safe for you.”
“No. He left me alone before I actually opened the safe door.”
“What about your minister?”
She pulled a face. “He’s too young to have been around when I came to Westbrook.”
“But some of the older parishioners must remember when they brought you home.”
Kristin paused. “My mom and dad moved from Billings shortly after they adopted me. For a while, Dad kept an office there with his partner, but later opened one here. Then after his partner died, his new partner moved the other office to Missoula. Everyone at church must assume I’m a change-of-life baby.”
“Perhaps that’s why your parents moved. New people, fresh start. But your father’s law partner would have known, right?”
“There may be people in Billings who know I’m adopted, but they haven’t said anything. I got a few cards, but no one mentioned it. I should call the pastor there sometime…” She let her words die away.
He looked deep in thought. “It’s odd that Billings is where you were adopted from, and where your family lived before, and also where the U.S. Marshals are located.”
She shrugged. “Billings is a big city.”
“Billings,” he repeated.
“What about it?”
He muttered something, then shrugged. “I don’t know.” He smiled at her, but even Kristin knew it was forced. “We need to get out of Westbrook for a little while.” His smile widened. “We’ll find your mother, Kristin. It’ll all work out.”
“I hope so. I’ve been praying for this to all work out. And I know you don’t pray, but things happen for a reason. Surely, you believe that?”
“They do, but the reason isn’t always God, Kristin. Things happen when people do stupid things. Or cruel, selfish things.”
“Then God will use those things to His Glory. I’m not saying that God will make everything rosy for me, or sugarcoated so I don’t have to suffer, but He’ll make things work out for the best. Not my best, but His best.”
“Then how can Christians go on with life if they know there’s going to be pain caused by God?”
“God doesn’t cause the pain. He allows it because He knows there’s something better waiting for those of us who trust Him, when we leave this earth. Pain is tough, but God is tougher. Don’t you think that maybe we’re on a journey? Doesn’t this feel like that to you?”
He didn’t answer. They were already on the highway by this time, and the easy driving gave him the time to consider Kristin’s question. If she hadn’t begun to cry at that moment in front of his office, and dropped that tissue, he wouldn’t have stooped to pick it up and wouldn’t have seen the bomb.
She was tenderhearted and protected by loving parents, and it was that flaw, though he shouldn’t call it a flaw, that saved their lives back there in front of his office door.
Even meeting Kristin did have a fateful feel to it. She had offered an unusual lead in his own search for his brother, one that hadn’t been seen before. He’d known that a man named Kendall had studied at the university, but he hadn’t stuck around after his courses. Zane had talked to his professor, but none said anything about any donated paintings. This last lead, one on Kendall’s lodgings while here, hadn’t panned out, either. But Kristin’s lead was promising.
If this was all happening for a reason, then that meant that Someone was guiding them.
God? Did He really care that much for him? If so, where was He when Zane was a kid getting a beaten?
“So,” he asked, shoving away those disconcerting thoughts, “tell me what you know about your birth mother. Even the things you’ve figured out or just suspected.”
She blew out a sigh. “There’s not much. Her name was Eloise Hill, but Jackson believes she’s changed it. She was in the Witness Protection Program because she’d witnessed a Mob murder. Then the M
ob found her. Jackson told me the story. She was holding me one day, when there was this explosion, and a piece of shrapnel literally burned between us. Since my scar is on the right side of my head, and her scar is on the right side, too, I must have been looking over my mother’s shoulder. It did more damage to me than to my mother, I’m told.”
“So your mother just abandoned you?”
She shot him a hot look. “She left one night, but not before shoving a note in the mobile above my crib. We were at a safe house when the Mob found us. Jackson was also there at the time and that next night woke up when I started to cry. After a bit, he knew no one was helping me, so he got up and found me with that note. He took me back to Chicago, and then found a Christian couple to take me.”
“But they lived in Billings, right?”
“Yes, Jackson got a new birth certificate for me that stated that I was born in Billings, but my parents also kept the old one. They must have wanted to tell me someday, or hoped to find Eloise.”
“So she must have given the real birth certificate to Jackson before she left.”
“She gave everything on me to Jackson. I guess she was on the run and was scared the Mafia would find her with my birth certificate and connect her to me. For my sake, she decided to break all ties.”
“What’s your father’s name?”
“The birth registry lists him as Danny Douglas, but it’s a bit confusing. I don’t know if Eloise married him or not. He worked for the Martino family, and Jackson says he died trying to save my mother’s life. It’s all a bit vague, and sometimes Jackson is…well, it’s as if he’s hesitant to say too much about it. I get the feeling that he’s holding something back.”
“Could it be that he is your real father?”
She looked shocked, briefly, before her brows met in a soft frown. “I hadn’t thought of that before. I don’t know very much about that time.”
“What else did Jackson say?”
She shrugged. “He thought I had some of my mother’s mannerisms.” Abruptly, she laughed, sadly almost, he thought.
Fatal Secrets Page 7
