by Addison Fox
“You can’t go in there,” Grace argued.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Mom will kill me if anything happens to you,” she finally muttered before pulling him in a tight hug. “I’ll radio the rest of the team out front.”
Brett stepped in, handing Ember’s leash to Grace. “Keep her as far away as possible.”
Grace did as requested and moved off to join her partner, Ember obediently following. Troy and Brett jogged to the car and Brett gave a set of orders as they dragged on the gear.
Troy didn’t doubt for a minute what he was doing, but as they headed around the back of the building to make their entry, a big part of him kept expecting to hear an explosion. Kept waiting for the reality that they weren’t fast enough.
“Remember,” Brett said as they got to the back door. “He’s not pulling any trigger until he’s out of there. Nothing about his behavior has suggested suicide mission up to now.”
It was an oddly comforting thought and Troy hoped like hell Brett was right.
The life of the woman he loved depended on it.
As he reached for the doorknob, intent on picking the lock, he felt the door turn in his palm.
One hurdle down.
It looked like the bastard was aiming to make a quick escape.
* * *
Evangeline hated the helpless feeling that had washed over her. The raw fear and the endlessly cycling thoughts of Troy, her mother and how much she wanted to be alive to talk to both of them again.
Yet even with the panicked thoughts, another flew through her mind on the same loop. She’d believed herself helpless these past few months, too.
And she couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was only now, strapped to a bomb, that she understood how strong she had really been. How much power she actually had to make a difference, the case against Len Davison be damned.
And how much she had to live for.
The man—did she even know his name?—had stalked around her a bit more, checking a few things on the chair and grunting as he bent his bulk over to look at the wiring before standing back up and looking at a small device in his hand.
A detonator?
The raw terror that had kept her on high alert spiked once more and Evangeline was shocked that she didn’t leap up off the chair from the sheer rush of it.
But it was when he took a few steps back and stared her dead in the eye that Evangeline realized there was nowhere to go.
And nowhere to hide.
So she might as well get her answers.
“How’d you do it?”
“Do what?” His voice was gruff but she saw the slightest flicker of respect in his eyes. Like he admired that she’d finally started asking questions.
“The woman. The alley. That looked awfully real.”
He guffawed at that—actually laughed—and Evangeline fought the need to scream.
“You mean my little acting job. It was easy to pull off. Been acting since I was a kid. I know all the tricks and I even do a decent make up job. It’s how I got out of Detroit in the first place.
“I’m real good, too.”
“Good enough to hide DNA?”
“That’s easy,” he said and waved a hand. “Pour a few cans of soda on the ground and you wash away any DNA left behind. Or you leave it so sticky, no one’s finding anything.”
Evangeline struggled to take it all in, but figured it was better to let him talk. As long as he was talking she was alive and that counted for something.
It had to.
“You really should take more care in your surroundings. You were easy to follow and it was even easier to break into this place. Ground floor.” He shook his head and Evangeline knew in that moment that if her hands were free she’d have smacked him.
“I had my friend all set up and she wore a blood packet. All we needed to do was get your attention and then the rest was easy. We ginned up that fake fight and you fell right for it.”
“That was fake blood?”
“Fake blood. Fake fight. Most of my waitresses want to be actresses anyway. A few hundred bucks and a day off.” He shrugged. “Easy.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her more about the fake play he’d put on in downtown Grave Gulch.
Which made his next comment that much more surprising.
“This was never my intention, you know. Hurting you. At least, not at first.”
“Oh no?” She heard the quaver in her voice and hated it, but couldn’t help it around the adrenaline jangling her system.
“It’s just all gotten to be too much. I was so close to paying off my debts. Living without that hanging over my head, until you let that guy go free. And I finally realized, someone else has to suffer, too. You know?”
He turned on his heel then and left. As if that was somehow an explanation for what he’d done. Or a reason she should blithely accept his justifications while she sat strapped to a bomb.
She nearly let loose the scream that was building in her chest when she saw the flash of movement through the doorway to the kitchen. A loud grunt echoed from the direction of the living room as Brett Shea raced into the room.
“Evangeline! Don’t move!”
He was by her side immediately, his attention fully focused on the chair.
“He’s got a detonator. You have to leave! Now, Brett! You and Troy. You have to leave!”
“We’re not leaving without you.”
“But he’s going to blow us up.”
“Troy’s got it.”
“You—” Her voice trembled, raw in the throat from the urgency of it all. “You need to go help him.”
Brett nodded, understanding the import of her words. But it was the ones that came back to her that gave her the first kernel of hope. “He’s got a lot of incentive to ensure we’re all walking back out of here.”
* * *
Troy slammed a fist in Sal’s gut, the impact ringing through his wrist and up his arm. Damn, but the bastard was a grizzly bear. He was paunchy but big and he had a lot more power behind him than Troy expected.
He also had a detonator.
Brett had already shouted it from behind him as he sought a way to get at the detonator.
Troy wanted to scream at his partner to go to Evangeline, but for the moment, that detonator required their full focus. The presence of the police ensured the guy knew he was caught.
Which meant he had precious little motivation to keep them all alive.
Troy dodged a jab at his kidney but took a beefy fist to the ribs that nearly had him doubling over. It was only the reality of the stakes that kept his hand still locked hard on the man’s wrist, unwilling to give him any opportunity to press the button.
Brett moved in closer and Troy grunted as he tried to keep Sal pinned. But it was Brett’s quick stomp on the man’s exposed arm that ultimately did it. The combination of Troy’s hold on the wrist and Brett’s boot to the elbow had Sal screaming in pain, his fingers opening.
Brett snagged the detonator and raced to the kitchen. Troy moved equally fast, taking the temporary advantage and using it to turn the man over and dragging his hands behind his back. Sal’s Miranda rights were already falling from Troy’s lips as he tugged the handcuffs tight over those two meaty wrists.
Satisfied Sal was subdued, he opened the front door, his hands up. It was only when he got an “all clear” shout from Melissa, holding the line across the parking lot, that Troy screamed further orders.
“Stay where you are. Suspect is subdued but the bomb is still live.”
Melissa’s pale visage was the last thing he saw before he turned and ran toward the kitchen.
* * *
“Just a few minutes more, darlin’.” Brett’s voice was steady and calm and Evangeline figure
d it was costing him a lot to stay that way. And she wanted to believe him. She wanted to sink into that calm, reassuring voice and lose herself there.
Only she couldn’t because he was stuck under her kitchen chair, in close range of a bomb and Troy was sitting beside her at the table, his hand cradling hers.
“You need to leave. Please leave,” she’d asked, over and over, but the stubborn man refused to move.
Both men had put on bomb vests, after freeing her wrists and settling one over her, but it wasn’t enough. They needed to leave. It pressed on her, preying on her mind in an endless loop until a well of sobs finally took over, the adrenaline coursing through her body obscuring anything but the desperate prayer that they’d leave her and save themselves.
The sobs continued as she was lifted from the chair, wrapped in Troy’s arms as he walked her out of the house to the ambulance waiting in the parking lot. And they kept on when he climbed in behind the paramedics, riding with her to the hospital.
Later, she’d learn that Brett had executed the bomb’s defusion perfectly. She’d also learn that the bomb squad had come in for a formal sweep of her condo and all the other homes in her complex, declaring the entire facility safe. She’d even learn the name of the attacker, Sal Petrillo.
But all of it seemed so distant and foreign as she lay in the big hospital bed, machines beeping around her long into the night.
* * *
Troy stretched from his position on the chair beside Evangeline’s bed. He’d wanted to call her mother but had ultimately waited until morning. He knew she’d kept the news of her ordeal quiet and since it had been so late by the time she was fully checked out and brought to her room, he made the decision to err on the side of fresh morning light.
The doctor couldn’t give him much beyond the reassurance that she’d experienced a major trauma but would be all right with some time. So he’d stayed and waited and wondered how he could help her until her mother had shown up.
And after giving the kind woman with the even kinder eyes—Evangeline’s eyes—the details, he left. And went back to the precinct to write everything up. A steady stream of people came in to greet him throughout the day, all doing a mix of checking in and getting the latest on what had gone down. It was only when he finally confirmed that he’d tell everyone everything but he needed some quiet that the line outside his door finally died down.
Which was when Melissa showed up.
“You didn’t follow protocol yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And because of that, you saved her.”
It was high praise from his chief. But it was the understanding in her eyes that was all family. Melissa closed his door before crossing to the chairs in front of his desk. “You doing okay?”
“Sure. It’s the job. We’re just fortunate those days are few and far between.”
Not that he’d ever been part of a bomb defusion six inches away from his body. And certainly not one for the woman he was in love with.
Which only added to all the reasons he needed to walk away. He’d been a detective on cases that Evangeline prosecuted. One of those cases involved the town serial killer. Davison had to be Troy’s full focus right now.
“I know you, Troy Colton. Why are you torturing yourself about this? And why aren’t you with Evangeline?”
“We need to stop spending time with each other. It’s as simple as that. We both have jobs to do, even if the past few days have made us lose sight of that.”
“Jobs? You both almost died yesterday.”
“But we didn’t.”
“Troy—” His name hung there and much as he wanted to just send her away, he finally gave in. Throwing down his pen, he gave his cousin his full attention.
“You didn’t see her in that chair, Mel. The fear in her eyes. And the adrenaline crash when the dam finally burst. She was in danger and has been all along and I spent half the time doubting her. Our jobs are too much at odds with one another. I knew it from the start and this has only proven it.”
“That’s bs and you know it.”
“Is it?” He might be sick of his own thoughts but he didn’t need his family’s interference, too. “How is it bull? Tell me how our professional lives haven’t complicated the situation.”
“It doesn’t matter if things got complicated. The point is that you care about each other.” He saw her grow still before she pressed on. “That you love each other. That doesn’t come along every day and to hell with some job standing in your way.”
“What good did that do my mother?” The words tore out of him, landing between him and Melissa with sharp, spiky edges. “She needed attention. She needed justice. But someone, somewhere dropped the ball. That’s why her murder is unsolved to this day.”
“You know as well as I do, we don’t close every one of them. It’s not a statement on the work, Troy. It’s a reality of the job.”
That might be the case but he’d spent a lifetime living with that reality. And he couldn’t stand the fact that his closed-mindedness and his inability to see the bigger picture of what was happening had nearly gotten Evangeline killed.
“The job takes everything. It’s just the way it is,” he said.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Melissa stood then and walked out of his office, leaving him to the empty thoughts that swirled in his mind, refusing to calm.
* * *
A week. Evangeline had been home a week. Her mother had fussed over her, making her favorite foods and sitting up talking with her late into the night. It had taken a few days but her mom had finally approached the question of why Evangeline had kept her in the dark about the leave of absence from her job.
After a lot of tears and “I’m sorrys,” Evangeline had finally shared the truth. That she was afraid of upsetting the new life her mother had built.
After getting a stern talking-to, full of Dora Whittaker’s abundant love and frustration, Evangeline could only laugh. How had she thought her mother couldn’t handle the truth? It was only after that storm passed that her mom had moved on to the subject of Troy.
Since that subject did nothing more than get Evangeline’s own ire up, her mother had ultimately changed the subject.
And now here she was.
The entire GGPD had checked in on her, Melissa at the front of the line. Brett and Ember had showed up with lunch one day earlier in the week. Grace and Ellie and Jillian had all come to see her, as well.
But Troy had stayed away.
Everyone diligently avoided mentioning his absence, but it loomed large all the same.
Which was why Evangeline ultimately moved on. The thoughts that had swirled so strong and sure during the experience with Sal Petrillo had morphed into purpose and, finally, action.
She loved the time she’d spent at the DA’s office, but it was time for something new. Through the years as a prosecutor she’d seen any number of women who’d been through similar situations as her mother. Families that had been torn apart by violence, physical and emotional, and who needed help and support to get back on their feet. It was something she’d thought about for years, but it finally felt like the time to make a change.
She’d given Arielle plenty of time in her resignation letter, but effective two weeks from now, Evangeline was beginning the courses needed to become a licensed social worker. It would be hard work to juggle the courses and her ADA job, but it was time to make a change.
Time to make a difference in the community in a new way.
It was a decision that felt right and good and she was ready to get started.
But first, she needed to close the current chapter of her life.
On the drive into downtown, she took in the familiar street signs and buildings she’d seen her entire life. Despite Sal Petrillo’s crimes against her, Grave Gulch was a good place to live. A good place
to work and to build a life.
Evangeline was determined to find both.
She pulled into the parking lot at the GGPD and headed into the precinct. The steady hum of activity she always associated with the place was in full swing and she saw an active bullpen.
“Can I help—” Mary Suzuki broke off with a broad smile. “Ms. Whittaker. It’s good to see you. I’m so glad to see you’re doing okay.”
“Thank you. I wanted to see if Detective Troy Colton is in?”
“He is. Let me call him.” Mary was about to dial when Melissa materialized at the front desk.
“That won’t be necessary, Mary. I’ll walk Evangeline back.”
“Oh.” Mary’s eyes widened as she keyed in to why their chief was stepping in. “Thanks, Chief.”
Melissa gestured Evangeline through the door beside Mary’s desk, walking her through the bullpen. “I hope you brought your boxing gloves.”
“They don’t match my outfit,” Evangeline deadpanned, even as she caught onto Melissa’s meaning a lot quicker than Mary had.
“A solid choice, by the way. And those heels are awesome.” Melissa patted her back, giving her an encouraging smile as they reached Troy’s door. “No mercy.”
The obvious support buoyed her, giving her the final push she needed to get into Troy’s office. She had dressed carefully and the other woman’s notice added an extra shot in the arm.
Now or never, Whittaker.
“Troy. I’d like a few minutes.”
He looked up from his desk, the circles under his hazel eyes an obvious and outward sign of his exhaustion. “Evangeline.”
“You’ve been quiet this past week.”
“I’ve been trying to catch a killer.”
“I understand. Which is why I don’t need much of your time.” She turned and closed the door behind her. Whatever the outcome of this discussion, it was between her and Troy and no one else.
“I came to tell you a few things.”