by Rachel Grant
A moment later, a massive boom rang out as light flared beyond the woods, illuminating the dark night.
That could be only one thing. An explosion. Inside or near the inn.
22
Sean patted Hazel down to be certain she hadn’t been hurt by the gunshot. Relief swept through him. She was fine except for possible bruises when he’d shoved her to the ground.
She pushed at his chest. “We need to check on the others,” she said.
He shook his head. Much as he wanted to, his job was to protect her, and taking her to the inn and the site of the explosion would break that first rule. “We can’t. Not until we know more.” He pulled out his cell and dialed Rav, who answered immediately. “Hazel’s fine. With me in the woods. Isabel?”
“Safe. In our hotel room.”
“Where was the explosion?”
“The parking lot. Looks like a vehicle blew up.”
“I heard a gunshot. You can’t blow up a car by shooting the gas tank.”
“Yeah, someone must’ve set up an explosive that could be ignited with a bullet.”
His phone beeped, and he could see it was Keith, initiating a group call for all operatives. Ian’s name was omitted from the list of recipients, thank goodness. The guy had left for his damn honeymoon less than two hours ago.
“We gotta take the call,” Rav said. “Reminder: the threat to Isabel and Hazel is still classified.”
Sean didn’t need to be told, but he understood why Rav had to say it. He accepted Keith’s call. “Logan. Outside. Fifty yards east of the inn in the woods with Hazel. No injuries.”
All operatives, including Rav, checked in, giving their location and status. No one was injured. All but Sean and Hazel were inside the inn.
Keith summed up the situation. “Some sort of explosive was set off under Chase Johnston’s Prius. I’m sending Chase, Matt, Tricia, and Josh to search the woods for whoever fired the shot, but odds are the person is long gone. Lee, Curt, and JT are rounding up fire extinguishers to put out the spot fires ignited by the flying debris. Fire department is on its way to deal with the Prius, but the fire’s mostly out there—big flash, little burn. Car’s toast. The Prius parked nearby is also damaged. That one yours, Rav?”
“Yes,” he answered.
Interesting. Two Priuses, both blue, one an older model, the other less than a year old. Was Chase’s car targeted by mistake?
Either way, it would be a warning to Rav. And maybe a sign Isabel was the target.
“Sean,” Keith said. “I want you to search the inn with Luke.”
Sean was glad for that order, because it wasn’t in direct conflict with his orders from Rav, which were to protect Hazel. He could leave Hazel with Rav as he searched the hotel.
“Send everyone who is not actively searching or dealing with the fire to my suite,” Rav said. “I’ll talk to the hotel manager. We need a head count, make sure no one was hurt or is missing.”
Sean hit End. “I’m taking you to Rav’s suite.”
She nodded. “We need to stop at our room on the way. I need underwear. And a change of clothes. I can shower in Rav’s room.”
He nodded. He didn’t relish the idea of her smelling like sex for the next few hours as they investigated the blast either. No point in rubbing it in his boss’s face how badly he’d messed up with Hazel.
She grabbed her clothes and toiletries, and they hurried to Rav’s suite. Others had already gathered, including Erica and Mara holding their sleeping children. Julian was asleep on the couch in the far corner of the large room as Ivy and Rav shared what was clearly an intense conversation. The moment Hazel entered the room, she abruptly stopped speaking, and Sean guessed she’d been discussing whether or not it was possible this had anything to do with Matt’s past.
“Where is Catherine?” Sean asked, referring to Mara’s mother.
“She’s packing up the babies’ bags,” Mara said. “She, Erica, the babies, and I are going to drive back to DC as soon as we can.”
Ivy bit her lip, then said, “Will you take Julian too?” Her gaze flicked to Hazel, then she added, “Matt needs to stay and be interviewed. He saw the explosion. And frankly, I’m worried about Julian overhearing too much and this becoming a traumatic memory for him. He still dreams about the car accident that killed his parents as if he’d been there.”
“Of course,” Mara said. “He can stay with us for as long as you need.”
Sean took that as a coded offer to protect the boy should Matt have been compromised. Curt and Mara had a state-of-the-art security system that rivaled Rav’s. The guy was a former cabinet member, and his name had been floated more than once as a potential presidential candidate. That brought out the crazies.
“Thank you,” Ivy said.
“I need to search the hotel,” Sean said to Rav. “You good here?”
“Yes,” Rav answered as more people arrived, including Undine and Luke.
Sean didn’t look at or say good-bye to Hazel, much as he wanted to. Others were watching, and he and Hazel needed to work out their issues in private.
Sean led Luke to his room, where he picked up his gun and holster from the room safe. He’d worn a small gun at his ankle during the wedding, which he now passed to Luke, along with an extra radio headset, as he donned his own.
“You always travel with your gear?” Luke asked.
He did, but it was usually in the back of his SUV. He’d put it in the room safe because this was a working vacation, but he couldn’t tell Luke that. “Yes.”
“Did you expect something to happen this weekend?” Luke asked, a note of concern in his voice.
“No, but after we visited the rally yesterday, I wondered if we were waving a red flag in front of a bull.” This was true enough.
Luke nodded. “Good point. You think that’s what this is about?”
“It’s possible. Rav’s car is also a Prius, and it was damaged too.”
They got a passkey from the hotel manager and methodically searched the entire inn, starting with the ground floor and working up. The two security guards Rav had embedded with the staff maintained their cover as Sean questioned them, even though they knew he was aware of their roles, but Luke was there, and they had orders not to reveal their role to anyone. Even the hotel manager played along.
Frankly, he was impressed by the security guards’ professionalism in light of this bizarre turn of events, and he’d tell Keith to get both operatives on Raptor’s payroll when this was all over.
Search complete, Sean and Luke headed to the parking lot, where a police officer was interviewing Keith as firefighters inspected the shattered remains of Chase’s Prius. Curt, Lee, and JT were gathered on the far end of the large veranda, out of the way of the first responders. Luke and Sean joined them.
“The FBI is on their way,” Curt said. “The use of a bomb—and the fact that Alec’s car could have been the target—could make this a domestic terrorism investigation, which means this is a federal case.” He nodded to the pair of officers questioning Keith. “Locals are unhappy that feds will be taking over. They’re fishing for reasons this wouldn’t fall under federal jurisdiction. Keith’s humoring them and going along.”
Sean guessed they were interviewing Keith and not Curt because the former attorney general knew federal laws and applicable precedents better than the officers knew their mothers.
It was unwise to get into a legal argument with the attorney who’d once been known as the Shark. He’d been the head of the Department of Justice for nearly four years, spanning two presidencies. He’d been a midterm replacement when the previous attorney general retired due to ongoing health issues, and he’d been asked to stay on when administrations changed. He would still be AG if he hadn’t opted to step down three months before his son was born. Now Curt was a stay-at-home dad while Mara worked full-time for NHHC.
Keith left the officers and joined their group. “Sean, they want to talk to you next.”
Cur
t stopped Sean with a hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice, “If you’ve got your phone on you, record the interview.”
“This is a one-party consent state?” Sean asked.
“Yes, if there’s no reasonable expectation of privacy. You’re outside, in public. Stay outside and talk loud so your voice will carry to us. No expectation of privacy.”
Sean tapped the headpiece he’d donned to search the inn. “This is a better recording device than my phone.” Not to mention that Keith, Luke, and the team searching the woods would all be able to listen in. But he’d let Keith tell Curt that good news.
He flicked the record button as he pulled the headpiece off, leaving it to rest around his neck, readily visible, as he crossed the veranda to the officers. Both were white men, one in his midtwenties, the other maybe on the other side of thirty. Neither man looked happy. The glow of the porch light highlighted the tight jaw of the older officer and the cold glare of the younger one.
Sean decided to go with congenial, pretending he didn’t notice the hostility, to see where it would get him. He smiled wide and offered his hand to the officer on the left. “Sean Logan. Raptor field operative. Best man at the wedding.” When the officer didn’t move to shake his hand, Sean shifted to the younger man on the right.
Nothing. Just disdainful glares as the men attempted to stare him down. He knew this type. They wanted to make him feel awkward about the ignored handshake, but instead, they’d revealed exactly who they were. He met their gazes in turn and planted his fists at his hips, his right hand a few inches above his holstered weapon. The stance opened his shoulders, letting both men see he was neither intimidated nor weak.
Sean had two inches in height and probably thirty pounds of muscle on both men. The younger officer flinched. “You going for your gun, boy?”
“No. And I don’t take kindly to being called boy. I’m guessing I’ve got ten years on you, son.” He projected his voice, as Curt had suggested.
There were situations in which he’d be forced to ignore the racist term and “sir” the young cop as a precaution against getting shot for being Black while living. But tonight, he had a crowd of people watching and listening. He did not have to put up with this racist shit.
The young man’s lip curled at being called son, but he said nothing.
“You got a permit to carry that weapon?” the older officer asked.
“Considering West Virginia allows concealed carry without a permit, I fail to see how that’s relevant, but yes, I do. I’m a licensed security specialist, and I have a concealed carry permit for every state that allows it along with the foreign countries I work in.”
“Where were you at the time of the gunshot right before the explosion, b—Mr. Logan?” The man’s gaze wasn’t fixed on Sean. He looked over Sean’s shoulder, toward Curt and the others. The older officer, at least, was aware of their audience.
“I was taking a stroll in the woods.”
“Alone?” the younger one asked.
“No. I was with my girlfriend.”
“She can confirm your story?”
“Of course.”
“We’re going to need to talk to her. Where is she now?”
“While I’m sure she won’t mind answering your questions, this isn’t your investigation. Your role here is to make sure the crime scene is secure and wait for the FBI.”
“Don’t you tell me how to do my job, boy,” the older cop said.
“I have a name. It’s Sean Logan. And you have yet to tell me yours or explain your authority in this matter.”
“Surrender your weapon, Mr. Logan. We’re going to have it tested to see if it’s been fired in the last hour. We also need to swab your hand for gunshot residue.”
“I will surrender my weapon to the FBI when they arrive, if they ask for it.”
Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Curt approaching. “Mr. Logan is correct, and I’d hate to have to file a report with the Justice Department about how you interfered in a federal investigation.”
The officers both glared at Curt, and Sean guessed they were calculating how far they could push this with the former attorney general watching.
Rav stepped outside, accompanied by a freshly showered Hazel along with Isabel, Undine, and the owner of the inn. Rav’s headset was also around his neck. Sean took that to mean he’d been listening. “The FBI team is in the air and will land at the helipad by the fire station in about thirty minutes,” he announced. He turned to the officers and offered his hand. “We haven’t met yet. Senator Alec Ravissant.”
Each officer shook Rav’s hand in turn, mumbling a greeting. Rav also wore a gun open carry, but not surprisingly, they didn’t question him, try to confiscate his weapon, or request a gunshot residue swab. Granted, Rav had been inside at the time of the shooting, but still, Sean knew the suspicion cast his way had more to do with skin color than his location at the time of the shooting. What were all those “boys” for if not to put him in his place?
Hazel approached him and slipped an arm around his waist. Rav had probably told her about the questioning, and she was establishing herself as his girlfriend and alibi. He draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. He’d screwed up so badly earlier.
“You okay?” she whispered.
“Fine. Just angry.”
“Me too.”
An hour later, after the FBI arrived, everyone who didn’t have an alibi for the time of the shooting and explosion had gunshot residue tests done on their palms. Sean offered his palm for a test as well, to show he had nothing to fear, and Hazel insisted on being tested too. “If you’re under suspicion for being outside, so am I.”
“Sean is not under suspicion,” Rav said flatly.
After being interviewed, Mara and Erica were cleared to drive home. They loaded their kids into Mara’s mom’s minivan. The passengers included Ivy’s son, Julian, who would go home with Mara. Sean watched as she and Matt kissed the boy and promised to pick him up from the Dominick home the following day.
Sean’s heart ached a little bit, wondering if they’d be able to keep that promise to the child who’d lost so much already.
After the minivan left the parking lot, everyone retreated to the front sitting room to await one-on-one interviews with the FBI Deputy Special Agent in Charge who’d flown out to personally oversee this investigation.
Sean confirmed with Rav that this was the same DSAC who was aware of the threatening note directed at Isabel and/or Hazel and that the threat might be the reason for the explosion. But the DSAC didn’t know about Matt’s GRU past, and Sean hadn’t had a chance to tell Rav about seeing Matt talking to Chase before the explosion. It was a tangled web of who knew what, and a fine line prevented Sean from telling the DSAC everything.
“Luckily, the only damage to our Prius is shattered windows,” Rav said. “We can get a mobile repair truck out here tomorrow to replace those.” He turned to Chase. “Would you be willing to stick around and drive our car back?”
Chase nodded. “Sure.” Then he shrugged. “Any chance I could borrow it for a few days?” He nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I…don’t think my insurance is going to cover this.”
“It’s yours until we get this all sorted out. It’s possible your car was mistaken for ours and targeted. I’ll cover your costs, insurance or not.”
Chase’s shoulders slumped in relief, then he gave a wry smile. “I’m starting to think working for Raptor is bad for me.”
Sean snorted, having a pretty good idea of what the boy had endured in Alaska. “True, but you’re here for a wedding, not for work.”
Chase laughed. “Good point.”
“Isabel and I will catch a ride back with you and Hazel,” Rav said to Sean. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” He figured they’d be cleared to go around five or six in the morning. No point in spending the rest of the night at the inn and trying to sleep. Hazel and Isabel wouldn’t be safe until
they were back within the walls of Rav’s estate. They’d be in Gaithersburg by midmorning and could sleep all day.
He wanted nothing more than to hold Hazel tight and guard her as they slept. But odds were she’d shove him away. Hell, she intended to tell Rav to fire him, and he had no reason to think that had changed.
“Is there any way we can make sure Ian and Cressida don’t hear about this?” Trina asked. “At least not until they’re back from their honeymoon?”
Keith put his arm around her in support. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“If we can confirm they’re safe and sound at their destination, I don’t see why they need to be bothered,” Curt said. “They were gone for at least an hour before the explosion. They aren’t witnesses.”
“Cressida texted me about twenty minutes after the blast,” Trina said. “It was just a quick note telling me they were at their cabin, and she asked me to thank everyone for making the weekend so special.”
“Perfect,” Alec said. “No reason to bother them, then.”
Everyone staying at the inn was safe and accounted for. There’d been no injuries and only the two cars damaged because once all the wedding guests left, those two vehicles had been the only ones in that part of the lot.
The way it played out had Sean convinced it was meant to be a warning to Rav. A shot across the bow—or hood—so to speak.
Sean was interviewed early, but because he had more knowledge of the situation than most, he and Rav were asked to stay until after all the interviews were completed. Neither Hazel nor Isabel were asked the same, but then, neither of them were operatives.
Even knowing Hazel had been released, Sean was caught off guard when she returned to the sitting room with her suitcase and Ivy and Matt. “I’m beat. I’m going to catch a ride home with Ivy.” She gave Sean an innocent look, but he could see the calculation in her eyes. She knew neither he nor Alec could raise a reasonable objection to her riding home with her sister.
She’d outmaneuvered them, and she had no idea how much danger she was placing herself in, because she had no fucking clue who—and what—Matthew Clark was.
