by Marta Perry
Juli nodded, patting the dog. “She just needs to grow a little fur back.” She stroked the area at the base of Angel’s skull where the thick fur had been shaved. “Right now she knows she looks lopsided.”
“She’s still a beauty.” And so is her owner. “Jay tells me you’re back to training again.”
She nodded. “Where did you see Jay?”
“We’ve been getting together. Looking over the classes he ought to be taking, checking out extracurricular activities that will look good on his application. I don’t intend to cut the kid loose just because I’m leaving. I’ll stay in touch with him.”
“I’m glad.”
She sounded genuine, but was she thinking he could have, should have, made the same effort with her?
“Will you and Angel be headed back on active duty, too?” He couldn’t easily dismiss the memory of that day she’d wept out all her pain and grief.
“I don’t know.” Her eyes seemed to darken. “I go over it and over it, but I still don’t know if I can handle going in the field again.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could say to make it better.”
“I know. No one can.”
She might not be able to do the job she was so good at because the pain was too great. He might sink under the pain if he couldn’t go back to his. They were both still where they’d been a month ago, except that tomorrow he’d know, one way or the other, what his future held.
“Well, I’ll see you at the ribbon-cutting tomorrow, at least.” He tried to smile.
She shook her head. “Someone has to man the office. To tell you the truth, I’m not especially eager to go back into that building. I guess I’ll have to hope I never need physical therapy.”
“You’d go there if you had to. I may not know a lot about you, but I know how tough you are.”
He heard the sound of tires on gravel in the parking area and turned to see Harvey Red Feather’s faded pickup. His throat tightened. This was probably the last time they’d be alone together. He should say goodbye, but somehow he couldn’t form the words.
Juli stood at the sound of her grandfather’s truck, her throat tight with tears she was determined not to shed. This was it, then. Ken believed he was moving on with his life. Leaving was all he could think of—certainly not her.
Well, this was what he’d talked of, hoped for, all along. If she’d let herself care too much, she had no one to blame but herself.
She tried to smile and suspected it was a pitiful sight. “If we don’t have a chance to talk again, I want you to know that I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you. Once I’m cleared for duty, I expect to be on my way pretty quickly. It’ll be good to get back to a job I know I can do.”
His head was already in the clouds, she realized. If the doctors turned him down, the pain would be unimaginable. And she could do nothing about it.
However much she might want to, she couldn’t fix anyone else’s life. She moved toward the door, grateful that the action hid her face from him.
Father, I can’t help him. I don’t know what his future holds, but I know it doesn’t include me. Pain gripped her heart fiercely, and she fought it back. All I can do is release what I’ve felt and hoped to You, Lord. Please, protect Ken. And if it is Your will, please grant his desire to fly again.
She was saying goodbye to her dreams, but somehow the prayer eased her pain. It would take a long time to get over Ken, but she would be all right. God would have a good, useful life for her, even if it didn’t include Ken.
Words she’d first heard from her grandfather formed in her mind. Hand on the doorknob, she looked back at Ken. “There’s an old Pueblo blessing that always seems a good way of saying goodbye.”
She hesitated, knowing that some of the words she couldn’t say to him because they came too close to the bone. But some she could say. She mustered a smile.
“This is what Grandfather would say. Hold on to what is good. Hold on to what you believe. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here.”
She didn’t wait for a response. She just walked away, feeling her heart break.
Ken showed up at the ribbon-cutting ceremony because he had a job to do there, but he was essentially sleepwalking, going on automatic pilot. A small crowd had already begun to gather for the ceremony. Somehow he had to concentrate on that. Somehow he had to get through the next hour.
Then and only then would he let himself think about what his future held. His stomach twisted into a knot as he approached the hospital wing. Hospitals. Doctors. He’d had enough of them for a while. What could they do but smash a man’s dreams to pieces?
That wasn’t fair, he supposed, but he wasn’t in a mood to be fair. He’d thought he’d gone into that medical exam prepared for whatever the verdict might be. Now he knew he’d just been kidding himself. He hadn’t been prepared at all.
Juli had known. The thought flickered through his mind. When she’d said goodbye to him at the office, he’d seen it in her eyes. She’d known he wasn’t ready to deal if the answer was no.
No. No more flying, at least not jets. The damage behind his eye hadn’t healed yet. Probably it never would. The Air Force wasn’t about to put him in control of a million-dollar machine.
He’d been reassigned—to Peterson Air Force Base, doing training. He’d be helping other people do what he never could. Probably the powers that be thought they were doing him a favor, assigning him here, where he had friends and family.
But they weren’t. It would be easier to deal with this blow away from people who cared.
He stopped at the entrance to the new physical therapy wing, nodding to the guard on duty. He’d go inside and check out the security arrangements, just as he was supposed to. He’d avoid anyone who might ask him about the results of his physical exam. And then—
And then nothing. He couldn’t seem to think beyond the moment.
Anger churned through him. Why? Why did You take away the only thing I’m good at? What is there for me now in this world?
The blessing Juli had quoted the previous day echoed in his mind bitterly. “Hold on to what is good. Hold on to what you believe. Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.”
He’d like to be a long way from here. He’d like to crawl into a dark cave and stay there, licking his wounds, until everyone had forgotten about him. But he couldn’t. He walked forward.
“Hey, Ken.” Quinn waved toward him from the reception desk in the center of the rotunda. A temporary podium had been set up nearby for the ceremony. “Did you finish your rounds yet?”
“I’m doing it now.”
Fortunately Quinn was too preoccupied with the successful completion of the project to even think about where Ken had been. As for the rest of his friends and family—well, way too many of them were showing up for this event. He’d just have to keep moving and hope to avoid them as long as possible.
Colleen Montgomery, Quinn’s cousin, ducked under the rope that held people away from the podium in the center of the rotunda. Catching his eye, she grinned impudently. She gestured toward the press pass that was pinned to the lapel of her cream-colored jacket.
“You wouldn’t try to keep the press out of here, now would you?”
“Believe it or not, we’ll be happy to have you report on the grand finale to the project.” He forced a smile. “It’ll be a nice change from all those stories in the newspaper about vandalism.”
“I’m looking for something more important than vandalism. Be honest with me, Ken. Do you have any thoughts about how all these problems are connected?”
“Please, Colleen.” He knew why Jake was so eager to avoid her—she was too persistent. “No conspiracy theories today. Just let us get through this ceremony.”
“Hey, you can’t blame a reporter for trying to get a decent story.” She spun around and headed for Quinn, probably hoping to get a more incendiary quote from him.
Shaking his head, he moved around the perimeter of the rotunda, alert for anyone or anything that seemed out of place. He spotted his mother, standing with Michael and Layla and deep in conversation. Judging from the desperate expression on Mike’s face, the women were probably discussing the wedding again.
At least that should keep his mother from looking for him. He moved on quickly, glancing at his watch. He still had a good fifteen minutes before the hospital board members were due to arrive. He’d check to be sure the doors to the offices had been locked, then work his way back to the main door.
Everything seemed to be running smoothly. There was no reason for the harassed expression on Quinn’s face, but Quinn probably wouldn’t relax until this was over and he could shed the suit and get back to work.
Something ruffled the pleasant anticipation of the crowd—heads turned, conversations fell off. He swung around, nerves tightening, scanning the area. There—by the main door—something was going on. A knot of figures seemed to struggle.
Quickly, trying not to look as if he were alarmed, he slipped through the crowd to the entrance. The guard he’d spoken to earlier was holding on to someone who struggled, trying to break free.
Ken reached around the guard’s bulk to grasp the arm that flailed. The guard moved, and he got a clear view. The breath went out of him as if he’d been punched in the gut.
“Jay.” He caught the boy around the shoulders, turning him so that he could get a better look at the kid’s battered face. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
The guard released the grip he had on Jay’s wrist. “Do you know this kid? I was trying to get him to go to the emergency room, but he wouldn’t. Said he had to see you or Mr. Montgomery.”
“Easy. It’s okay,” he said. But it wasn’t okay. Someone had beaten the kid—someone with hard fists had hammered on him.
Rage pounded through Ken. He drew Jay a few steps away from the entrance, shielding him from curious glances with his body. “You need a doctor.”
Jay shook his head, wincing at the movement. “No time. I had to get here—tell you what I found out.” He gasped, clutching his ribs. “It’s Theo. He did it.”
“Did what?” He held the boy, glancing around for help.
“Somebody paid him to do it.” Jay clutched his arm. “He planted a bomb. Here. You gotta get these people out. It’s set to go off during the ceremony.”
FIFTEEN
For an instant, Ken could only stare at the boy. Then his brain kicked into high gear, weighing, assessing. Jay could be wrong about what he’d heard. Or this could be a trick designed to disrupt the ceremony and make them look foolish.
Could be—but it wasn’t a risk he was prepared to take. He met the guard’s appalled gaze over Jay’s head.
“You heard him. Quietly—we don’t want to cause a panic. Start moving people out.”
“Right.” The man’s voice shook.
A vivid image flashed in Ken’s mind of people rushing against the doors, of innocent people hurt in the crush. “Clear the doorways as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing we need is a panic, but the exits have to be cleared by the time we make an announcement.”
The guard gulped. Then he nodded and moved quickly to the entrance, speaking to people in a low voice as he went.
“Come with me.” Supporting Jay, he led him across the rotunda to Quinn.
“A bomb threat,” he said softly, cutting off Quinn’s startled exclamation at the sight of Jay’s bloody face. “Jay says someone paid Theo Crale to set a bomb to go off during the ceremony. I’ve already started the guard moving people out.”
“I’ll call the police.” Quinn’s jaw went rigid, but he gave no other sign of what he must feel. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “You get on the loudspeaker.” He nodded toward the reception desk.
“Right.” Adrenaline flooded through him, and he had to force himself not to rush. He led Jay the few steps to the desk and propped him against the counter. “Hang in there, buddy. We’ll get you some help soon.”
His heart thudded in his ears. This was too much like those moments when his jet had gone screaming toward the earth. He’d known what to do then. And no one else’s life had been at stake.
He scanned the array of connections behind the reception desk. It was just like scanning the control panel. Don’t rush. Steady. There—there was the line marked loudspeaker.
His brother Michael loomed up on the other side of the counter. “What’s going on? Can I help?”
Ken’s heart clenched at the sight of him. Mom, Mike—too many people he loved could be in danger.
“No. Just get Mom and Layla out of here. Fast.”
Without a word, Michael loped away. That must be a first, for Mike not to argue with his kid brother.
Ken snapped on the loudspeaker connection. By the time he’d lifted the receiver, he saw Mike ushering Mom and Layla toward the nearest exit.
He paused for a second, hand on the switch. Please, Lord. Give me the right words. I don’t want to cause a panic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have to ask you to leave the building.” His voice sounded smoother and calmer than he’d have believed possible. “The police are on their way to investigate a threat against the hospital. Please move in an orderly way to the nearest exit and continue away from the entrance.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then the crowd began to flow toward the door. Except for one person. Colleen Montgomery darted toward them.
He repeated the announcement, forcing his voice to remain calm. No one seemed to be panicking, thank the Lord. He glared at Colleen, gesturing her toward the door. She disregarded him, of course.
“Where did the threat come from?” Colleen yanked a small recorder from her pocket, switching it on. “Was it phoned in? How reliable is the source?”
“Out.” Quinn reached them in a few quick strides. He pointed, glaring at her. “Get out or I’ll have someone remove you.”
“You can’t make me leave.” She stood her ground. “Do you really want to waste time trying?”
She had a point. “Just stay out of the way.” Ken turned to Quinn as a thought struck him. “The upper floors. Is anyone there?”
Quinn’s face whitened. “Not supposed to be, but if so, they’ll have heard the announcement. They’ll start down. If they’re caught in the wrong place—”
Ken swung toward Jay. “Do you have any idea where the bomb is?”
Jay pressed his hand to his head. “I heard somebody say something about it bringing the whole building down. That’s all I know.”
“It’s hard to guess where they thought that would be.” Quinn shook his head, clearly as aware as Ken that a mistake could be fatal. “My guess would be they’d try for the center of the building.”
Ken nodded, flipping the speaker switch. Sometimes you just had to go with your gut reaction.
“If you are on the upper floors, please exit as quickly as possible by the east or west stairwell. Do not take the central staircase.” Please, Lord, let us be right. “I repeat, do not take the center staircase.”
He scanned the rotunda. Empty and silent. The guard waved to him from the doorway, indicating that it was all clear. He gestured for the man to go out. There was no point in keeping him here.
A siren wailed, somewhere in the distance. He glanced at his watch.
“We’ve still got a few minutes before the scheduled time, but there’s nothing else we can do here. We’d better—”
The world ripped apart, exploding into darkness and chaos.
Juli’s gaze jerked away from the computer screen as the office door flew open, hard enough to bounce against the wall. Angel snapped to her feet, letting out a warning bark.
Juli silenced her with a gesture, her eyes fixed on the security guard’s face. “What is it? What’s happened?”
The man sagged against the wall, panting. “It just came over the radio. There’s been an explosion. At the hospital site.”
It was all she could do to keep from crying out. “How bad?” She shoved her chair back.
“Bad.” His face was white. “Brought down a big part of the building, sounds like.”
Ken—
Her heart cried his name as her phone rang. She snatched the receiver, knowing what the call would be.
“I’ve just heard. Call the rest of the team. Angel and I are on the way.” She hung up, trying to force herself to think calmly. No time to go home for her equipment. She had to get there. “Come, Angel.”
The dog gave a short, eager bark, ears pricking alert. Angel knew what was happening. A search dog always seemed to know when it was the real thing.
She hurried to the door, grabbing the guard’s arm. “I’ve got to get down there. Give me your keys.”
Now was not the time to be stranded, waiting for a ride from Grandfather.
He nodded, tossing her a key ring. “It’s the green pickup next to the gate. Take care.”
Clutching the keys she bolted out the door, running across the gravel. Angel bounded by her side.
Ken. Lord, keep him safe. Be with those in danger at this moment. Help them.
She reached the pickup, Angel leaping into the passenger side as she held the door. She ran around, jumped in, jammed the key in the ignition.
Help us, Lord.
She pulled out of the lot, gravel spurting under the tires. Once on the main road she hit the gas, hearing the sirens wail ahead of her.
Let us be in time. Please let us be in time.
An EMT truck loomed ahead of her. She slipped behind the emergency vehicle, riding his tail, taking advantage of the siren that cleared the way in front of them.
Please. Please.
She couldn’t seem to form a more coherent prayer than that. Maybe she didn’t need to. God knew the desire of her heart as they roared through the city streets, her heart reaching ahead, moving faster than the truck could.
One last turn, the pickup seeming to shudder beneath her, and the hospital wing was finally in sight. Her breath caught.
