DALLAS, TEXAS
Uneasiness gnawed at Heath. Emily’s speech was a reminder of what they’d been trying to escape. Harper had chosen to wait until after the gala to tell her sister about their uncle, but now he thought that might have been a big mistake.
He reached for Harper’s hand, hoping to squeeze it before he lost his nerve, but she stood suddenly and made her way down the row of theater seats and out one of the side doors. He waited a moment for her to return. When she didn’t, Heath winked at little Dawson, who squirmed in his father’s lap. He feared the boy would eventually escape. Heath eased from his seat, then whispered an apology to James before sliding by people in the row and following Harper through the door. A hallway stretched in both directions, and across the way was a large atrium with chairs. But no Harper.
Hands on his hips, he turned in a circle and then he spotted her. At the end of the hall toward the foyer, she paced. He jogged forward and caught her arms. “What are you doing?”
Tears surged in her eyes. She blinked them back. “Didn’t you listen to Emily’s speech? The Firebomber. It’s here. Tonight. This . . . this is the anniversary of his last bomb. He bombed this place twenty-three years ago. We have to warn them. We have to get people out of here.”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What makes you think that? The feds are already on this. They’re looking for him and will stop him before his next bomb.”
“Like they did last time? They’re not moving fast enough. Call it a hunch if you want, but think about it, Heath. We know Uncle Jerry has plans for another bomb. This is the last building he bombed as the Firebomber. Emily and I are here. He could have figured out that Emily would be here. He could have looked inside the camper when we weren’t there to get more information about us. Maybe he found out she was an author and that she was being honored here tonight. To a crazy person—that would be the perfect ending to his life. He’s sick and dying, we know that. What better way for him to go out? I was wrong to think that he had stopped trying to kill me. I’m still the witness to his crime. Make that, crimes. He killed my father.” Hands shaking, she pulled out her cell.
Heath urged her against the wall. He had to think. If she was right, time was against them. It could already be too late. Reporting a bomb if there wasn’t one would ruin the evening and make a lot of people angry, not to mention possibly result in prison time for them, depending on how the call was seen. But people’s lives could be at stake. He studied Harper. She seemed convinced. He wished he could look around for something suspicious, but that would waste time.
“There’s security here for this event. Let’s alert them first.” He started off to find someone.
“I already told one of them. He left to call someone.” Harper lifted her cell to her ear.
“Then that’s all we can do,” he said.
“Is it? I can’t be sure he took me seriously.” Harper spoke into her cell, explaining her concerns. “I don’t know where it’s located. Yes, I told a security guard here, but I don’t know what he’s doing about it.”
She continued to pace, frowning. “No idea when it’s going to go off or what it looks like. No, I didn’t place the bomb. Please send someone to get these people out of here.”
Harper hung up. “I think they’re going to send the police, because what else can they do when someone calls in a bomb threat? But what if I’m wrong?”
Heath also pulled out his cell to call Taggart, Moffett, and Liam, because they understood the Firebomber and could take action and get things moving. Heath left voice mails with all three. Time. It all took too much time. He called the local FBI office. Getting through to someone who could make this happen and fast was . . . infuriating.
He should simply pull the fire alarm. That would be faster.
“Special Agent DeSanto speaking.”
“Deputy Heath McKade speaking. I think the Firebomber could target Trinity History Theater and Museum tonight during the Metcalfe Gala on the anniversary of the bombing twenty-three years ago. It’s packed with people. Should I pull the fire alarm?” That would get them moving.
“Do not activate the alarm. That would incite a panic. People could die as they fled. Someone has already called. We’re sending police to assess the situation. They’ll make the decision. Let them prepare the building for evacuation and secure the facility. Stand down, Deputy McKade.”
Heath ended the call. To assess the situation? To prepare for evacuation? Would they make it in time? “Why couldn’t the feds in Wyoming have figured this out from all the information that the bomber left them?”
“Meghan told me something. She said that, in the past, he often left clues to purposefully mislead the authorities. That’s one reason they never caught him. Maybe that’s what he’s done again.”
“Let’s get your sister and do what we can to save everyone we can.”
They rushed back into the theater and stood against the wall. Emily remained on the stage amid laughter and applause, though she glanced offstage as if distracted.
Harper’s eyes riveted to her sister. “Oh, hurry, Em. Hurry up, please,” she whispered.
“You get out of here. I’ll get Emily, James, and Dawson.”
“I don’t see James. Maybe he took Dawson to the little boys’ room. Oh, Heath, what are we going to do?”
“You’re leaving the building, Harper. But stay close to law enforcement if possible until I get them out.” Heath had committed himself to watching over Harper. Part of him wanted to carry her out of here and away, but she would never forgive him if others were hurt. He would never forgive himself, period.
Heart pounding, he pressed toward disaster.
God, why am I in this situation when you know I never should have been the one to protect Harper? It was my idea to bring her here—and now look! No matter how hard I try, I make things worse!
“I’m not going anywhere without you or my sister.” Harper followed him along the far wall where they expected Emily to step from the stage and they could rush her out.
Lord, please let the police get here in time.
He really hoped Harper was wrong about the bomb.
His cell buzzed with a text. He should ignore it. But he’d called several people. He quickly glanced at his phone.
Liam.
Get out! The FBI believes Jerry’s going to bomb the Trinity History Museum. Isn’t that where you are?
The feds had figured it out. But fast enough to save people?
Agent DeSanto had told Heath to stand down. But he was here and could do something. He made his way toward the alarm, though he would ask everyone to leave calmly first.
Emily ended her speech. Something offstage drew her attention, and instead of coming toward them, she twisted and walked the other way, then disappeared backstage.
“Oh no, Heath. We have to get her.”
With a deafening beep, the fire alarm sounded. Heath shared a look with Harper. He hadn’t pulled it.
Someone shouted. “Get out now!”
What?
At that moment, officers rushed in as waves of bodies hurried by them and over them and through them.
Heath reached for Harper and grabbed empty space.
She was gone.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Harper ran up the steps near the empty orchestra pit. Only the podium remained on the stage.
Heath had been behind Harper as she’d headed to the stage, or so she’d thought, but she’d lost him. She glanced over her shoulder at the escaping vortex of bodies. There was no finding him, or even getting to him, in the panicked crowd as it bottlenecked at the exits. He could take care of himself. He wasn’t likely to fall and get trampled.
“Emily!” The alarm still blaring, Harper crept into the shadows backstage. Though growing distant, the cacophony of those fleeing the building still resounded in her ears. Massive curtains and a myriad of props crowded the space. Above her was a catwalk and the fly system of ropes, counterweights, and pulleys, access
ed via an opening above. The fly tower. She knew it from her theater days in school.
The complicated maze of rooms backstage was perfect for hiding a bomb. Fear corded her throat.
“Emily! Please, we have to get out of here now. Where are you?”
What if she didn’t find her sister in time? Why had she exited the stage on this side? Maybe Emily was simply using a different exit and was already outside.
Harper hurried past dressing rooms with big mirrors. A plethora of costumes. Finally, the crossover. The hallway behind the stage that led to the other side. She ran past more rooms—storage areas for props.
“Emily!”
From beneath her, she heard a voice, but it sounded distant and muffled. Emily? “Please keep talking so I can find you.”
Was Emily in the trap room beneath the stage?
“Emily, there’s probably a bomb here,” Harper shouted. “Meet me halfway. We need to get out of here.”
Terror could paralyze her if she let it. She hurried around the corner. Still no Emily. “Where are you? Come on, let’s go. Emily, there’s a bomb.”
Harper found a stairwell and clanked down the studded metal until she stood in the empty space below the stage. The trap room. Stage lift equipment. Boxes. Props. But no Emily.
Emily’s scream was muted and came from beneath her yet again.
“Emily!” The hair on the back of Harper’s neck stood up as she found yet another stairwell. Her rapidly descending footsteps echoed eerily against the walls. At the bottom of the steps, she entered another doorway and pushed through a heavy curtain. Crates cluttered the place. Another storage space beneath the trap room.
“Emily?”
“I’m here!”
Harper continued past the crates to find her sister.
Emily held Dawson to her as she crouched on the floor. “It’s James. He’s unconscious.”
“Why is he even down here?”
“Maybe to find Dawson? I saw him wander off while I was making my speech.” Her words thick with emotion, she stood with the boy. “It looks like James fell and hit his head.”
Harper rushed to her sister. “Let’s go. I’ll get James. We have to get out of here.”
Dawson lifted his face from Emily’s shoulder and pointed. “That man. He hit my daddy.”
Emily stared at the child. “What man? I don’t see anyone.”
Fear slithered up Harper’s spine as she glanced around the space filled with shadows and dark corners and more stage props.
Her limbs shaking as she stood, Harper blinked back the surging tears. What looked to be a timer was attached to a stack of crates labeled COSTUMES.
Five minutes and thirty-three seconds.
Thirty-two.
Thirty-one.
Emily’s eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”
Harper stumbled. The previous bombs in Grayback were only practice for this one big event. She guessed this would be a much bigger bomb—a highly explosive device joined with incendiary material to create a fire. In other words, whatever wasn’t obliterated by the explosion would be consumed by fire.
Her knees almost gave out. No tears came this time. Only hopeless determination to save her sister, James, and Dawson. “Yes”—her words were barely a whisper now—“we have to get away.”
“It’s too late,” Emily said. “We won’t make it.”
“Of course we will. We’ll get away.” She tugged out her cell to call the authorities but got no signal beneath the stage. In her limited knowledge, if they could disengage the detonator, he couldn’t still activate the bomb. But Harper didn’t have a clue how to do that. What did it matter?
“Come on, we’re going to be okay.” She urged her sister forward and through the heavy curtain. “Go ahead. I’ll carry James.”
“What? He’s too heavy. You can’t. And I can’t leave him to die!”
Harper frowned. “No, of course you can’t. But he would want you to save his son. I’m the strongest between us. I’ll carry him fireman-style. Even small women can carry big men like that.” Or try to. “No time to argue, now run!”
Emily shifted Dawson in her arms, then entered the stairwell.
Harper focused on James. “I don’t suppose you could wake up and run out, could you?”
She tried to lift the man over her shoulder. He had a stocky frame. Many pounds of pure muscle. But she wasn’t going to beat that ticking bomb with him on her back. She wasn’t going to be able to climb those stairs.
God, do you hear me? Please help me!
James grunted. Was he finally coming to? She urged him to his feet. Relief rushed through her as she assisted his stumbling form forward. Adrenaline, an answer to her prayer, empowered her to hike the steps with him, but he was still much too slow.
And leaning awkwardly to the side. She shifted him against her.
Her heart hammered as tears choked her. Time was not on their side.
They made it to the second landing. She gasped.
If only she could make it through that door. Then she would have to find her way out of the maze of curtains and props to exit the building. “Come on, James. We can do this.”
She gasped her way up the next flight, her muscles straining under his dead weight. He’d passed out again.
No, no, no, no . . .
She let his body slide to the floor, wedged against the door, then plopped next to him to catch her breath. She would have to reposition him. “James, if you don’t wake up, neither of us is going to make it out of here.”
She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she left him to die, so that wasn’t an option.
Why am I so weak? I thought I was stronger than this! Not me, but God. God is stronger. Help me, Lord. Help us!
“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; The righteous runs into it and is safe.” She forced the Scripture out in between her gasps for breath. Squeezed her eyes shut and pictured that unmovable mountain as tears leaked out.
Harper thought of her mother crying over the bombing. She’d been crying over her brother who’d turned into a monster bomber.
And unless the police were searching the place. The bomb squad. SWAT. Someone. She and James were going to die.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Harper!” Heath yelled as he was forced to exit the theater with the rush of the crowd. He could only hope that Harper had found Emily and made it out.
Once he was outside, he moved out of the tidal wave of bodies. Police officers stood at the exit, herding terrified people away from the building. No way would they allow anyone back in. But if Harper was still inside, that’s exactly where he had to go.
“Harper!” He tried again.
Officers directed people as far as a block away. His heart sank. He didn’t think she was in this crowd, but how could he know? He kept searching and calling her name. She would be with Emily if she was here.
“Heath!”
Relief surged as he turned. Emily rushed forward, holding Dawson. “I think she’s still inside. James was injured, and she was going to help him out. But I don’t think she came out. She didn’t follow me out like she said she would.”
He gripped her arms. “Where is she?”
“She was making her way from a room beneath the stage where the bomb is. I can show you, but I need someone to watch Dawson.”
“That’s not happening. You take Dawson away and keep him safe.”
A few stragglers exited the theater. Law enforcement was creating a barrier—far from the potential explosion. The bomb squad was probably on the way, but they often didn’t make it before a bomb detonated. Heath fisted his hands. The bomb squad, law enforcement, they all did their best, but they were only human.
Heath was only human too, but he’d been through this scenario—losing someone he loved—and he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing. He’d told Harper that the price for caring was high. And that he was willing to pay.
Maybe he was insane.
He ran up the steps of the stage. “Harper! Where are you?”
He got lost in a maze of rooms and hallways. He didn’t know where he was. Emily had mentioned it was beneath the stage. How did he get there?
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
You shouldn’t have come here, girl.” The voice was familiar. Menacing.
She stared at Uncle Jerry as he crept up the stairwell. No, she wouldn’t even think of him as her uncle. She wouldn’t call him uncle. It was too hard. “Why are you doing this?”
“If you’re here, you know enough to know why.”
“You’re insane, that’s why.”
“The government always covers up the truth. Creates their own lies about our history so they can direct the future.”
“But none of that makes any sense now. Blowing up a building filled with people isn’t the way to make your point.”
“No one listens unless you make them listen. But it doesn’t matter. I’m dying, and I found that I can make my point while I go out on my own terms.”
“But I’m not dying. I have my full life ahead of me, if you don’t take it from me tonight.” And Heath. Harper wanted that chance with him. Even a few moments of gain were worth the risk of loss. How had she ever doubted that before? “Think of your sister, Leslie. She wouldn’t want you to kill her daughters too like you killed her husband.”
“So you know about your dad.” His frown deepened. “I didn’t know that was you with the camera, or I wouldn’t have tried to kill you. I would have tried to silence you another way.”
A lot of comfort that was, coming from a killer. He was too cold to help.
“Is that your idea of an apology? It’s too late. People are already dead. More people are going to die.”
“They’re all gone. I pulled the fire alarm and got them out. All except for you.”
Wha—her breath left her. “You?” Hope surged. Harper got to her feet and pulled on James. “You set that off? But why?”
Always Look Twice Page 28
