Enigma

by Dee Davis

  “But I didn’t even know about the first two until now. Hell, we haven’t even ascertained for certain that the Abilene bomb is the work of the same man.”

  “But it fits the pattern,” Madison insisted. “And my gut tells me we’ll find the Tai when we get hold of the evidence.”

  “Hang on,” Nigel said, holding up a hand. “Try this for size. What if the bomb in San Antonio was intended as a first and last act all at once?”

  “You mean that the Prager was the last of the three bombs, but the first Sam was supposed to discover?” Gabe asked, already nodding in agreement.

  “Right.” Nigel stood up, and walked over to the board. “Let’s assume for a moment that the senators weren’t on-site at the Prager. That it had simply been a loss of property. You’d have found the Tai, Sam, and then the priors, and in that way you’d begin to work backward, until you uncovered the connection between the three bombs.”

  “And theoretically,” Madison said, “the reason behind them.”

  “But the senators were in the Prager,” Gabe said, building off of what they were all saying. “And so the message got lost. The masterpiece destroyed. Which meant our guy needed to get the focus back where he’d intended, quickly.”

  “So he picked Walter,” Sam said, her voice quiet, her mind obviously grappling with the reality of this scenario. “But that didn’t work either. Walter’s work with the investigation into the senators’ deaths colored my perception again.”

  “Our perception,” Payton corrected. “We’re all in this together, Sam.”

  “So he pumped Elliot for information,” she continued, ignoring his comment, her focus still on the whiteboard, “then he killed him, and set things up in Albuquerque, knowing that I couldn’t possibly miss the significance of my mother being targeted. Which leaves us with the inescapable conclusion that people are dead because some asshole out there has a problem with me.”

  “I’m guessing a fixation is more like it,” Madison said, patting her pregnant belly thoughtfully. “If he had a problem with you, his attacks would have started out more violently. If you accept the train of our logic, the first three bombs weren’t meant to have casualties. So he was merely trying to engage you. Not hurt you. If we’re right about your connection to the sites, then it was more about pulling you into his fantasy. There’s meaning for him, too, mind you. Some connection between the two of you. But at least in the beginning it wasn’t intended to escalate to death.”

  “But the senators’ presence upped the ante,” Payton said.

  “In more ways than one,” Madison said. “He needed to refocus our investigation, but I also think he got a taste of blood and liked it. That’s not unusual in the kind of personality we’re discussing here. There’s power in murder. As much or more as the destruction caused by a bomb. Combine the two, and in an obsessive compulsive, it can create a pretty powerful aphrodisiac.”

  “You’re saying the guy is in love with Sam?” Cullen asked, his disgust evident.

  “No.” Madison shook her head. “He’s in love with his work. And in his mind Sam is connected to that.”

  “Because she investigates bombings?” Nigel asked.

  “I think that’s part of it, but I also think there’s something more personal going on.”

  “So how the hell do we figure out what it is?” Payton growled, everything in him screaming to grab Sam and get her the hell out of the way, but he resisted the urge, knowing damn well she would never allow it. Besides, he respected her too much to let his more primitive instincts take control.

  “We start by getting a list of all the people attending that seminar at the Prager. And we compare that to the personnel roster of the Abilene PD when Sam was there. And then we cross that against the staff and students at Texas A&M.” Gabe stood up, obviously ready to go to work.

  “Do you have any idea how many people attended Texas A&M during that period?” Harrison asked.

  “So we start with people in Sam’s department. Engineering, right?”

  She nodded.

  “And maybe the staff in that department as well.”

  “I’d also look at the janitorial staff or security staff in the engineering building. I doubt this guy was a professor. Doesn’t really fit the profile. But he could have liked hanging around the department. He definitely has the IQ for the work, just not the interpersonal skills necessary to maintain the ins and outs of college life.”

  “I’ll get to work,” Harrison said, with a wry smile. “Shouldn’t take too long.” There was irony in his voice, but it was tempered with enthusiasm. If anyone could pull it off in record time, it was Harrison.

  “I can help,” Madison offered.

  “We all will,” Gabe said, his gaze including Nigel who nodded in support. They all got up, and hurried out of the room, anxious to get to work, and realizing that Sam needed a little time.

  Payton stood to go as well, but hesitated, not certain what he should do.

  “Stay,” she said, her gaze lifting to his. “I think I could use a little support.”

  For her to even suggest that she needed help was an indication of just how hard this had all hit her.

  He adjusted his chair so that he was sitting across from her, reaching out to take her hands in his, leaning so close that their heads touched. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “This all seems so surreal. I’ve had my share of death threats and angry perps, but nothing like this. Nothing at all. Payton, it’s my fault all those people are dead.”

  “It isn’t your fault. You heard Madison. This guy, whoever he is, has formed some sort of attachment to you. Something you weren’t even aware of. There’s no way in hell you can be held responsible for anything that’s happened because of his insane fixation.”

  “Seems like I was just saying pretty much the same thing to you.” She tried for a smile and missed. “About Iraq, I mean.”

  “So maybe you were right.” His answer had been meant to comfort her, but he wondered if maybe there wasn’t a little truth mixed in as well. A truth he’d avoided facing for one hell of a long time.

  “And I’ve got some swampland for sale in Alaska.” This time her smile was weak, but genuine. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.” She lifted her head, squaring her shoulders, her battle face firmly back in place.

  On anyone else he’d have figured it was a mask, but not Sam. She was the kind of woman who could rise to any occasion. Even one as frightening as this. His heart swelled, and if he’d been a schmaltzy kind of guy, he’d have said it was filling with love.

  But he wasn’t sentimental. Not at all.

  Their gazes met and held, and for a moment, there was nobody in the world but the two of them. And despite himself, he leaned close, his breath brushing across her cheek.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered, knowing deep in his unsentimental heart that he meant every single word.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SAM SAT IN THE LAB with her eyes closed, trying to process the chain of events as Madison had described it. On the whiteboard it looked cold and logical, the puzzle pieces interconnecting to form a picture of sorts, but when she tried to apply it to her life, to put a face on the shadowy figure of the bomber, it all fell apart.

  How could someone she knew—someone she’d obviously trusted with the details of her life—how could this person have twisted it into some horrible nightmarish fantasy? It just didn’t make sense. Or maybe she just didn’t want to accept the fact.

  Despite what Payton had said, she did blame herself. If this guy had fixated on her, then maybe she’d given him a reason. Her brain cautioned that this was a predictable reaction, and that nothing she’d done could possibly have warranted this kind of behavior, but her heart wasn’t convinced.

  Which made it hurt—hurt for Walter, for Elliot, for her mother’s friends and for three senators she didn’t even know. She blew out a breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose, the throbbing pain in her head showing no sign
of subsiding despite the handful of pain relievers she’d swallowed earlier. No rest for the weary—or was it the wicked? With a sigh she opened her eyes and looked down at the evidence report she’d just received from the ATF lab on the Albuquerque bomb.

  As expected, there was nothing from trace. The fragments they’d identified and the camera were all clean. Like the others, the Albuquerque bomb had no identifiable tool marks or parts. That much she’d already been certain of.

  The report also speculated about detonation. It had definitely been an electronic ignition, this one more complex than the others because it appeared to have been triggered by a relay from the audio equipment at Senator Walker’s fund-raiser. When the commercials had been cued, the camera at the site had started broadcasting, and using infrared and cable wire a signal had been sent to the house, detonating the bomb.

  It would probably be weeks before they could reconstruct the exact way the wiring had worked. But as a working hypothesis, it was supported by evidence at both the bomb site and the hotel. Based on the combined experience of the folks working the site, Sam suspected they were correct.

  “Is this a bad time?” Nigel Ferris stopped in the doorway, his brows raised in question.

  “No, it’s fine.” Sam forced a smile she didn’t feel, swiveling around in her chair so that she could better see him.

  “I really don’t want to interrupt anything.” He moved closer, his gaze falling to the report in her lap.

  “You’re not interrupting. At least not anything important. I’m supposed to be studying this report, but to be honest with you, what I’ve mainly been doing is trotting out all the people I’ve ever known and considering them as suspects. Including Billy Fletcher, the first grade bully at Sunset elementary.”

  “And how’s it look for Billy?” Nigel asked, his moustache twitching with amusement.

  “Not good. He was really a fiend. Although I suspect he’ll wash out when we check into his IQ. If I’m remembering correctly, no one could accuse him of being overly intelligent.”

  “Oh, well, back to the drawing board then.” There was something commiserative in his tone. As if he understood only too well what it was to be hunted by someone you didn’t know. But then in his line of work, he probably encountered that sort of thing all the time. Still, she found herself comforted anyway. “Actually, I thought maybe you and I should get to know each other a little better. After all, I know everyone else on the team.”

  “Or maybe you’re here to talk about Payton.” It was just a guess, but when she’d left Payton he’d been his usual caustic self, and when he’d returned in Nigel’s company, he’d been subdued to say the least.

  “Gabe was right, you’re very perceptive. Not unlike Madison.”

  “We both spend a lot of time trying to crawl into the minds of dangerous men.”

  “Well, I’ve great respect for Madison. And from what I’ve been hearing, I suspect there are similarities. However, you’re much more brash than Madison.”

  “I blame it on being an army brat.”

  Nigel’s lips quirked up at the corners. “I believe I know the species.”

  “So tell me why you wanted to talk to me.” She met his gaze head on, seeing nothing but concern reflected there.

  “Right.” He nodded. “Cut to the chase and all that. I should tell you that I’m here at Madison and Gabe’s urging, which leaves me a bit uncomfortable, to tell you the truth. I’m not in the habit of sharing confidences.”

  “Then why do so now?” She tilted her head, reading nothing but honesty in his face. At least at first blush, Nigel Ferris was the kind of man she’d want in the trenches with her. Right alongside Gabe and Payton.

  “Because second chances don’t come around that often, and I’d hate to see something I’ve done affect Payton’s.”

  At just the mention of his name her heart started to hammer, her mind jumping to all kinds of things Nigel could be talking about, not the least of them warning her off of his friend. “I’m not sure exactly what you’re getting at.”

  “Nothing to do with you,” he reassured, like his friends, quick to read her thoughts. “It’s something to do with Payton.”

  “Is he all right?” she asked, frowning now, her brain on high alert.

  “Not to worry. He’s fine. At least physically. Emotionally, I’m afraid I may have upset the applecart.” Nigel paused, studying her face. “God, this is more awkward than I thought. I can see in your face you care about him, but in telling you I’m afraid I’m overstepping my bounds.” It seemed to be a trend with Payton’s friends. First Gabe, now Nigel.

  “Well you’ve started now, you can’t just leave me hanging.” In light of the worry in Nigel’s eyes, she wished she hadn’t been so flip, but the whole thing was rather unnerving, and in truth she wished he’d just spit out whatever he had to say and be done with it.

  “I suppose not.” He sighed, and shook his head, looking very much as if he’d just signed his death warrant, which depending on what he was about to reveal, Sam supposed could have some merit based on Payton’s overwhelming need for privacy.

  “Look, if it helps, I already know about what happened in Iraq.” She wasn’t sure why she was trying to help him, except that he looked positively miserable, and he seemed like a good guy all in all.

  “I know. Gabe told me. That’s why I thought it might be helpful if I told you the rest of it.”

  “The rest of it?” She frowned at the thought, wondering how the situation could possibly get any worse.

  “I don’t know if anyone told you, but I’m with MI6. And as such have a rather high security clearance.”

  Sam nodded, having no idea at all where they were headed, but her curiosity was piqued.

  “I had the opportunity to research some old classified documents, and as part of that exploration I came across evidence, purely by chance you understand, that Mariam Reynolds was in fact the person who betrayed us in Iraq.” He went on to share the details, all of them damning.

  Sam wasn’t sure which she wanted to do more, dig up the dead woman and give her a piece of her mind, or kill her all over again. She’d seen the pain that Payton carried with him. Seen the toll it took on everything he did. And at least some of it was based on a lie.

  A lie Mariam Benold Reynolds had perpetrated on all of them. Gabe, Nigel, Kevin, even Cullen. But most of all Payton. Sam drew in a breath, her anger pulsing inside her. “How did he take it?”

  “He asked a few questions, uttered a few choice oaths, but overall I’d characterize his reaction as stoic. But then Payton is an expert at hiding his feelings. So that doesn’t mean a god-damned thing.”

  “Surely you or Gabe would be better suited—” she began, only to have Nigel wave her quiet.

  “I’m not asking you to deal with the fallout. Unless Payton is prepared to let you in. I just thought that you’d want to know. Gabe says the two of you have grown close. And I saw him in there with you just now…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I came here to help. Payton means a great deal to me. And if he cares about you, then you need to know. It’s that simple.”

  She was humbled by his faith, and terrified that somehow she’d let him down. Or worse still, that she’d let Payton down. Everything had gotten so complicated. Or maybe it had always been that way. She always had been one to gloss over the parts in life she simply didn’t want to see. Which went a long way toward explaining why she was still alone.

  That, and the fact that she defused bombs for a living.

  “I appreciate your faith in me,” she said, licking her lips, feeling really uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

  “But…” Nigel prompted, the corners of his moustache twitching again.

  “But I’m not exactly certain where Payton and I stand. And frankly, the fact that Mariam was a traitor might be exactly what he needs to send him running for deep cover.”

  “Look, use the information or don’t,” Nigel said, holding up his hands in submissi
on. “I just want what’s best for Payton. And if that’s you, then I didn’t want to blindside you.”

  “Thanks. I think.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Sam smiled. “I do care about him. It’s just that I don’t know where we’re going.”

  “Who the hell ever knows that?” Nigel’s smile was gentle. “Look, I’ve said my piece, and you’ve got work to do. Why don’t I just get the hell out of here?” He turned to go, and Sam found herself wondering if she’d ever had friends like Nigel and Gabe.

  “Nigel,” she called, before her better sense could stop her. “I meant what I said—thank you.”

  His smile was crooked, somewhere between wistful and sexy. “If things don’t work out, remember there are always other options.”

  This was the kind of banter from a guy she could handle. “It’s a lovely offer, but I’ll stick with what I’ve got.” A big fat nothing, the little voice in her head cautioned, but she blatantly ignored it.

  “For what it’s worth, Sam,” Nigel said, a twinkle in his eye, “Payton’s one hell of a lucky man.”

  Now if only someone would share the fact with Payton.

  “DID YOU KNOW about Mariam, Cullen? When I was in the hospital, did you know then?” Payton placed his hands on Cullen’s desk, leaning down so that his gaze locked with the older man’s. He’d accepted the information Nigel had on Mariam as the truth, if only because Nigel would never have brought it to him unless he was certain. But he was also wise enough to realize that what the British had, the United States had as well.

  Which meant that Cullen had to have known.

  “What do you want me to say, Payton?” Cullen asked, spreading his hands, his expression apologetic.

  “The truth would be nice.”

  “I knew about it.”

  “And Gabe?” Payton felt as though someone had sucker-punched him, the blow interfering with his breathing.

  “He knew what you knew. Nothing more.”

  Payton nodded, relieved at least to know that Gabe hadn’t lied to him. But Cullen had. “So why the lie?”