by Addison Fox
“Okay. Call me later.”
They hung up with a promise to do a good raging girls’ night, complete with margaritas and a gallon of ice cream. It couldn’t erase her day, but as promises went it was certainly something to look forward to.
Bellamy glanced down at her box, her meager possessions all she had as evidence of her time at Lone Star Pharmaceutical.
Securing the lid, she took a deep breath and pulled her purse over her arm.
She’d already lived through the loss of her family, both through death and through abandonment. She would survive this.
Resolved, Bellamy picked up the box and walked out of her office. She refused to look back.
* * *
THE MID-DECEMBER AFTERNOON light was fading as Bellamy trudged toward her car. She’d snagged a spot in the far back parking lot, beneath an old willow that she loved for its sun protection and the added benefit of more daily steps, to and from the front door. Now it just seemed like more punishment as she put one foot in front of the other, her box completing the professional walk of shame.
Thankfully, the parking lot was rather empty, the impending holiday and the general spirit of celebration and success at LSP pushing even more people than she’d expected to knock off early.
Gus had been kind when he met her in the lobby, his expression sorrowful as he took her badge and her corporate credit card. Sally Borne hadn’t shown up for the proceedings but her office lackey, Marie, had been there to take the badge and credit card before bustling off back where she’d come from.
It was unkind, but Bellamy hadn’t been able to dismiss the image of a small crab scuttling back to its sandy burrow the way the woman rushed off.
And then it had just been awkward with Gus, so she’d given him a quick kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, promising to visit with him in town at the annual tree lighting in the town square the following week. She’d already committed to Rae that she’d go and she’d be damned if she was going to hide in her home like the same crab she’d mentally accused Marie of being.
Shifting the box in her arms, Bellamy laid it on her rear bumper as she dug for her keys. After unlocking the car, then pressing the button for her trunk, she juggled the box into the gaping maw of her sedan, only to fumble it as she attempted to settle it with one hand while her other held her purse in place.
A steady stream of expletives fell from her lips when a brisk wind whipped up, catching the now-loose box lid and flinging it from the trunk.
“Damn it!”
The temptation to leave the lid to fly from one end of the parking lot to the other was great, but she dutifully trudged off to snag it where it drifted over the concrete. She might be persona non grata but she wouldn’t add litterbug to the litany of sudden crimes she’d apparently perpetrated against LSP. Nor would she put someone at risk of tripping on it inadvertently.
Box lid in hand, she crossed back to the car, dropping into the driver’s seat and turning on the ignition. The car caught for the briefest moment, then rumbled to life. She put her foot on the brake, about to shift into reverse, when her gaze caught on the rearview mirror and her still-open trunk.
Resigned, she opened the door once more and crossed back to the trunk. That damn cardboard box stared up at her, the lonely receptacle of her professional life and—finally—she let the tears she’d fought all afternoon fall.
Lost job. Lost family. Hell, even a holiday that was shaping up to be a lost cause. All of it seemed to conspire against her until all she could see or think or feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.
Frustrated, Bellamy stepped back and slammed the lid.
Instantly, a wall of heat flared up, consuming her before she felt her body lifted off the ground and thrown across the parking lot.
* * *
DONOVAN WAS MIDWAY down his parents’ stone-covered driveway when the call from Dispatch came in. He answered immediately, responding with his badge number and his location.
“We have a bomb called in at Lone Star Pharmaceutical. Your location indicates you’re closest to the site.”
LSP?
An image of the imposing corporate park on the edge of Whisperwood filled his thoughts, along with the pretty woman he’d met a million years ago who worked there. Who was bombing the town’s largest employer? And why?
“I am,” Donovan confirmed. “I can be to the site in three minutes. What are the known details?”
“LSP security called it in. Initial report says a car on fire and a woman shaky but standing.”
“She walked away from a car bomb?”
“Reports say she was outside it and tossed back by the blast.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Officer. Backup will meet you there.”
Donovan took a left out of his parents’ driveway instead of the right he’d planned. Flipping on his lights he headed out over the two-lane Farm to Market road that lead back into town and on toward the corporate headquarters that stood at the opposite edge of Whisperwood.
He’d already spent the morning with the town’s chief of police and now it looked like he’d spend his evening with him, as well. The town was big enough to keep a sizable force, but they had to tap into the Austin PD for specialties like bomb squad support. As LSP had grown along with the town, Donovan had often wondered why the local PD hadn’t been given more resources, but knew that wasn’t always an easy battle.
It was one that big companies readily fought when they preferred to employ their own security.
Perhaps that folly had come back to bite them?
By all accounts LSP’s owner was a local maverick who was as delighted to be a pillar of the community as he was to rub the town’s noses in it when he wanted to do things his way. Bold and daring, Sutton Taylor had favored the town he’d grown up in to set up his world-renowned pharmaceutical company.
Donovan turned onto Lone Star Boulevard, the well-paved road that ran in front of LSP’s headquarters. The scrub grass and occasional ruts that made up the drive across town vanished as he came onto LSP land.
The guards at the main entrance waved him through the gates before he’d barely flashed his badge and Donovan headed straight for the billowing smoke still evident at the back of the parking lot. Alex sat sentinel beside him, his body strung tight as a bow as he waited for his orders.
Even from a distance, Donovan could tell the scene was contained. Two LSP security vehicles were parked near the still-smoldering car and a crowd had gathered at the edge of the parking lot, obviously evacuated from the building. The security team seemed to have it under control, the individuals corralled far enough back to avoid any additional fallout from the wrecked car. With the destruction already wrought on the burning sedan, the car was the least likely source of any remaining danger.
Instead, he and Alex would go to work on the scattered vehicles still in the lot.
He parked, his already alert partner rising farther up on his seat. Within a few moments, he had Alex at his side, leashed and ready for duty. One of the security guards moved away from a huddled woman and walked toward him. The man was grizzled, his body stiff with age, but his clear blue eyes were bright and alert.
Sharp.
The man nodded. “Officer. I’m Gus Sanger. I’m in Security here at LSP.”
“Donovan Colton. This is Alex.” He motioned for Alex to sit beside him, the move designed to show his control over the animal yet ensure no one missed the dog’s imposing presence.
“You got here fast. K-9’s out of the Austin PD.”
“I was in Whisperwood on another assignment.” Donovan shook the proffered hand before pointing toward a pretty woman covered in soot. “Is she hurt?”
“Claims she isn’t. That’s Ms. Reeves. Bellamy Reeves. She’s banged up and has a few scratches on her elbows an
d a bigger gash on her arm the EMTs bandaged up, but I’d say lucky all in all.”
At the utterance of her name, Donovan stilled. Although he hoped it didn’t show to Sanger, Alex recognized it immediately, shifting against his side.
Bellamy Reeves? The same woman he’d spoken to so many years ago in the Whisperwood corner store...
“Do you mind if I go talk to her?”
Sanger nodded, his gaze dropping to Alex. “Does he go everywhere with you?”
“Everywhere.”
“Good.”
Donovan walked to the woman, taking her in as he went. She was turned, her gaze focused on her car, but he could make out her profile and basic build. Same long legs. Same sweep of dark hair. And when she finally turned, he saw those same alert gray eyes, that were mysterious and generous, all at the same time.
She was still pretty, even beneath a layer of dirt and grime from whatever happened to her car. Which he’d get to in a moment. First, he wanted to see to her.
“Ms. Reeves?”
She had her arms crossed, the bandage Gus mentioned evident on her forearm and her hands cradled against her ribs as if hugging herself. She was drawn in—scared, by his estimation—and doing her level best to hide it. “Officer?”
He ordered Alex to heel at his side, then extended his hand. “I’m Officer Colton. This is Alex. We’re here to help you.”
Whether it was the use of their names or the fading shock of the moment, her eyes widened. “You.”
“It’s me. How are you, Bellamy?”
Those pretty eyes widened, then dropped to Alex. “He’s so big. Just like I knew he would be.” She instinctively reached for Alex before pulling her hand back.
“You can pet him if you’d like. He’s not formally working yet.”
She bent, her gaze on Alex as her hands went to cup the Lab’s head and ears. Donovan didn’t miss how they trembled or what a calming effect Alex seemed to have on her as she petted that soft expanse of fur. “You grew just as big as I knew you would. But I hope you’ve learned some restraint around plastic toys.”
“Grudgingly.” Donovan smiled when she glanced back up at him, pleased that she’d remembered them. “We nearly had a repeat incident with a few Barbie high heels but I managed to recover them before he swallowed them.”
“He’s a little thief.”
“One who fortunately matured out of the impulse.”
She stood back upright but kept a slightly less shaky hand on Alex’s head. “You’re here because of this?”
“I was in town on another assignment today and hadn’t left yet. Are you okay?” The assignment was a bit of a stretch but somehow, saying he had to visit his mother or risk her wrath didn’t seem like the most comforting comment.
“I’m fine. Gus looked at me quickly and I don’t feel hurt other than the scrapes. Shaken and sort of wobbly, but nothing hurts too bad or feels broken.”
“How close were you to the car?”
“I’d gotten in and realized I hadn’t closed the trunk. I was behind the car when it just—” She broke off, the disbelief still clear in her eyes. “When it just exploded.”
“We’re going to take a look at it but first I need Alex to sniff the rest of the cars that are still here so we can get these people out of here. Can you wait for me?”
“Where else am I going to go?”
For reasons Donovan couldn’t explain, he sensed there was something more in her comment. Something that went well beyond a car bomb or the shaky aftereffects of surviving a crime.
Something terrible had taken the light out of her beautiful gray eyes.
And he was determined to find out why.
Chapter Three
Bellamy stood to the side and watched the chaos that had overtaken the parking lot. Several cop cars had arrived shortly after Donovan and Alex as well as two fire trucks and the EMTs. At one point she’d estimated half of Whisperwood’s law enforcement had found its way to LSP. The scene was well controlled and she’d been happy to see how the local police handled the press who were already sniffing around for a story. They were currently corralled on the far edge of the property, clamoring for whatever scraps they could get.
She’d ignored them, even as one had somehow secured her cell phone number and had already dialed her three times. It was probably only the start and she’d finally turned off the ringer. There would be time enough to deal with the fallout once she knew what she was actually dealing with.
And it might be to her advantage to have a working relationship with someone from the press if she needed to tell her side of the story.
If? Or when? a small voice inside prompted.
Sighing, she let her gaze wander back over the assembled crowd of law enforcement. Would they help her if she truly needed it? Or would they bow to whatever pressure LSP might put on them?
Like a bucket of errant Ping-Pong balls, the thoughts winged around in her mind, volleying for position and prominence.
She’d already taken the proffered water and over-the-counter pain meds from the EMT attendant and had finally begun to feel their effect. The pain in her arm had subsided to a dull throb and the headache that had accompanied her since the accident had begun to fade, as well. But the endless questions in her mind continued.
The EMTs had pressed repeatedly to take her to the hospital for additional observation but she’d finally managed to push them off after submitting to several rounds of “follow the light” as they looked into her eyes, searching for a possible concussion. It had only been Donovan’s input—and assurances that he’d keep a watch on her—that had finally quelled the discussion about removing her from the premises.
Not that she exactly wanted to stand around and watch her car smolder in a pile of burned-out metal. Or question who might have wanted to harm her enough to put it in that condition.
It had taken her quite a while to come up with that conclusion, but once she did the sentiment wouldn’t shake.
Someone had done this.
Cars didn’t just explode when the ignition turned over. And innocent people didn’t just get fired from jobs they were good at and loyal to.
So what was going on and what mess had she fallen into? And had she really left her home that very morning thinking it was just another day?
And how was it that Donovan Colton was the one who arrived to rescue her?
She’d thought of him intermittently over the past five years. Most of the time it was a good memory—a sweet, flirty interlude with an attractive man. But there were other moments—when the memory stung and instead of leaving her with a smile it left her with a strange ache. The painful reminder of what she’d lost that night that went beyond a lost date.
Could things have been different?
In the end it hadn’t mattered. If she were honest with herself, it still didn’t. Her father was horribly injured that night and her life—all their lives—had irrevocably changed.
“Bellamy?” Gus shuffled up to her, his bright blue eyes hazed with concern. “You’ve been awfully quiet standing here all by yourself. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room?”
“I’m sure. I’m made of sturdier stuff.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” She glanced at the dissipating crowd. “Did they find any other bombs?”
“It doesn’t appear so. The damage from this hooligan seems confined to your car.”
Hooligan?
While she had no wish to alarm an old man—and she suspected his use of the word was meant to comfort—the casual term wasn’t nearly the correct one for what had happened to her. This wasn’t a prank. Or a sick joke. Someone had attempted to kill her. And the sooner she got off of LSP property, the better she’d feel.
“W
ill I be allowed to go home soon?”
“I overheard Officer Colton talking with the chief. You should be able to get out of here right soon.”
“Thanks.”
Since her purse had been on her arm when she’d gotten out of the car to close the trunk, she still had many of her personal items. Best of all, she’d been pleased to find her cell phone undamaged where she’d had it zipped in a side pocket. The purse was ripped and headed for the trash but the fact it protected the rest of her personal items was the only saving grace of the evening. Especially seeing as how the car and her small box of memories were destroyed.
“Ms. Reeves?”
Donovan Colton took a commanding spot beside her and Gus, Alex immediately sitting at his side. There was something comforting about the presence of both of them and Bellamy felt a small bit of the stress and strain of the day ebb. “Yes.”
“I’d like to ask you a few questions but perhaps you’d prefer to answer them after you’ve had a chance to clean up. Or maybe eat?”
“You can decide that? I mean, I can leave here.”
The edges of his eyes crinkled in a small smile before he nodded. “I think I’m allowed to take you to a more comfortable place and out of the increasing cold. It may be Texas, but it’s still December.”
She had gotten chilled, the air growing cool once the sun set. “I didn’t have lunch and now that you mention it, I am hungry.”
“Why don’t we leave, then?” Donovan turned to Gus and shook his hand. “You and your team have been incredibly helpful here. Thank you for keeping everyone at the edges and not allowing anyone else to leave until we had a chance to check their cars.”
Gus stood taller, his chest puffing just like the dog’s. “Of course.”
“I’ll see that Ms. Reeves is escorted home now. I’ll be back tomorrow to finish a review of the site with the chief.”
“We’ll be waiting for you.”