by Lara Lacombe
Still, even if she hadn’t had a hand in the explosion, she wasn’t an innocent. She had clearly been playing a part in these homicides—at the very least, she was guilty of obstruction, the way she’d tried to distract and mislead him during the investigation. But was that her only sin? What else did she know?
It was time for him to find out.
* * *
How much longer was this going to take?
Hannah toyed with her empty coffee cup, debating the wisdom of a refill. She already felt jittery and on edge, but drinking more would at least give her something to do.
She’d been waiting for Owen for what felt like forever. And even though she hated being kept in the dark, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him right now.
There was something different about him today. She’d noticed it in the ambulance ride and then at the hospital. He’d pulled away from her, and she felt as if he was holding part of himself in reserve. Try as she might, she didn’t understand why. Had she done something to upset him? Was he angry with her for using his captain to force him to go to the hospital?
She shook her head at the thought. If that was the case, then he could just stay mad. She wasn’t going to apologize for making sure he was okay, not after what had happened at that office. He’d been adamant about getting right back to work, but she knew too much about chemicals to be so casual about his health after such an extensive exposure. Forcing him to get checked out had been the right thing to do, even if it had been a blow to his ego.
But was that the only explanation for his withdrawal? Owen didn’t seem like the kind of man to pout over something like that, especially when the ER doctor had explained that he wasn’t out of the woods just yet. There was still a chance that he would have problems in a few hours or even days, as tissue damage became evident. The doctor had given him some breathing treatments, hopefully to stave off any issues, but he’d made it clear that Owen needed to take it easy for the next few days.
Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Owen had nodded dutifully, but Hannah could tell by the look in his eyes that there was no way he was going to sit back and relax, not until he’d closed his case.
The office site had been nothing but chaos, making it hard for Hannah to determine what, exactly, had happened. Owen had been tight-lipped about it, but from what she could tell, he hadn’t found what he’d been looking for.
Marcia’s presence at the office had been a depressing confirmation of Hannah’s suspicions. She wanted to pretend she was shocked that her former boss was somehow involved in all this, but she couldn’t muster the energy to fake it. Hearing Shelly’s voice answering the phone had been a surprise, but she’d quickly accepted the idea that the people she had worked with had crossed a line. Seeing Marcia at the test site had only served to confirm it.
Part of her was desperate to know what had transpired between Owen and Marcia in that office. What had she told him? What was she telling him now? Was she protesting her innocence, shifting the blame to others? Or had she cracked and admitted to her part in all of this?
Hannah shook her head. It was hard to believe Marcia would come clean so easily. She’d always been so controlled, so tightly wound. Hannah had trouble picturing the other woman in a confessional mood. Besides, one thing she did know for certain was that Marcia Foley was a survivor. She’d do anything in the name of self-preservation. If she was talking, it was because she thought it was in her best interest to do so.
Suppressing a sigh, Hannah stood and stretched. It felt good to move after sitting for so long. Her muscles were stiff from lack of activity, and her arm ached something fierce. She glanced at her watch—time for another pain pill to take the edge off.
She walked over to the coffeemaker, but then thought better of it and filled her cup at the watercooler. She was tired of waiting. Owen had said he’d take her home when he was done questioning Marcia, but why did she have to wait here while he did it? Her apartment was in terrible shape, and she needed to start putting things back together. Classes started up again in a few days, and she wouldn’t have time to take care of it then.
Even though her back was to the door, her body felt his presence before her mind really registered it. There was a change in the air, a fine charge that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She froze, her stomach fluttering under the weight of his gaze. What had he discovered? And did she really want to know?
The seconds ticked by, but she didn’t move. If she stayed in place, if she ignored his presence, she could pretend for just a moment more that everything was okay. That her time at ChemCure Industries wasn’t built on lies, that her work hadn’t been corrupted and used to murder innocent people. It was cowardly of her, she knew, but she wanted to hold on to her denial a little bit longer.
He seemed to sense her mood. He moved quietly, stepping into the room and gently shutting the door behind him. Her heart sank. It couldn’t be good news then. He wouldn’t give her privacy if he had something positive to tell her.
Gathering up her courage, she turned to face him. He sat at the table, his eyes on her. His expression was serious but still guarded, and she clenched her jaw in sudden irritation. What was his problem?
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she replied.
He nodded, but it was clear he didn’t believe her. “Okay. But you look a little upset.”
Damn him! Why could he read her so easily? “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?”
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh, and she realized how tired he was. When was the last time he’d really slept? He couldn’t have gotten much rest at the hospital last night, and before that, she was willing to bet he’d been putting in a lot of late nights working this case. Sympathy welled in her chest as she took in the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled hair. Was it any wonder he’d been acting strangely today? He was exhausted, probably on the verge of collapse. And taking out her bad mood on him wasn’t going to help.
“Are you okay?” she asked, coming to sit next to him.
He glanced up at her, surprise written all over his face. “I, uh...yeah.” He cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse from the chemical exposure. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“When was the last time you got some rest?”
He shook his head. “It’s not important.”
“You can’t keep going like this.”
“I have to. Besides,” he added quickly, catching her frown, “it’s not going to be much longer.”
“You’ve solved the case?” Her voice rose in excitement, and she reached out to touch his arm. He glanced down at her hand and smiled briefly.
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?” She tilted her head to the side, trying to read his expression.
“It means I know who is responsible for these deaths, but I don’t know where he is.”
“Oh.” She slumped back in her chair and let her hand slip off his arm. A flicker of disappointment showed in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared.
“Hannah, we need to talk.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”
He shifted in his chair so that he turned to face her, and grabbed her hand, cradling it between his own. “I know this is hard for you. But you need to hear what I’ve learned today.”
“Why?” she retorted. “Why is it so important that I hear this? It’s not going to change anything.” She pulled her hand from his and gripped her empty cup again. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay in the dark.”
Owen stared at her for a moment, apparently shocked speechless. Then he shook his head slowly. “If I thought you really meant that, I’d walk away and not bother you again. But you’re not the kind of woman who runs away from s
omething, even though it causes you pain. I know you better than that.”
He was right, of course. It was both annoying and thrilling in equal measures—he was one of only a handful of people who seemed to really get her, but that meant she couldn’t hide from him. The realization left her feeling naked and exposed, and she let go of the cup to wrap her arms around her stomach.
Owen didn’t push her, didn’t insist she face the truth. He merely sat and watched her, his deep blue eyes patient and understanding.
It was his silence that touched her. He gave her the space she needed to make a decision, and she knew whatever she chose, he’d respect it. If she insisted he leave her alone, he would get up and walk out and not say another word. It was so different from the way Jake used to talk to her. If she disagreed with him or didn’t want to do something, Jake would pester her until she changed her mind. He’d always said he was just being persuasive, but now that she saw how Owen behaved, she realized Jake’s actions were born of a lack of self-confidence. He couldn’t handle someone questioning him, and he always had to be right. But not Owen. Owen was secure enough in his own skin that he didn’t mind if she challenged him, or if she had a different opinion. It was a refreshing change, one that continued to surprise her.
After a moment, she slowly nodded. Owen didn’t speak. He continued to watch her, giving her a chance to change her mind. “All right,” she said finally. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
His eyes warmed and she felt a quick surge of pleasure, almost as if she’d passed some kind of test. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. Then he cleared his throat and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table.
“Marcia was quite chatty this afternoon,” he remarked. Hannah couldn’t stop her snort of disbelief. Owen’s brows shot up, and she waved away the interruption.
“Sorry. I just have a hard time believing she doesn’t have an ulterior motive.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure she does. Regardless, she disclosed a lot of information, and we’re busy verifying what we can now. It looks like she’s telling the truth.”
“What did she say?”
“She’s implicated a man named Dave Carlson. Said he’s the one behind all the deaths. You told me earlier that you spoke with him on occasion?”
“I did. He’s Marcia’s boss. I didn’t interact with him much, but when I did, he was generally pressuring me to provide the results he wanted to see.”
“That fits with what Marcia told us. Apparently, he took compounds from your old lab and used them in unauthorized human trials.”
Hannah’s stomach twisted, and revulsion rose to burn the back of her throat. “Why?”
Owen shrugged one shoulder. “Money. According to Marcia, Dave was looking at the most toxic compounds, the ones that did the most damage. He was testing them out on people to characterize the damage they caused and how long it took to work.”
“That’s despicable.” Revulsion skittered along her skin, making her shudder. How could anyone be so cold, so calculating? How could a man who worked for a pharmaceutical company—a business that was devoted to developing medications to ease human suffering—have such a complete disregard for human life?
“Money is a powerful motivator,” Owen said, sounding philosophical. “You’d be amazed at what some people will do for it.”
“Apparently, Dave and Marcia would kill for it,” she observed drily.
“Indeed.” He took a deep breath, then continued. “But that’s not all. Marcia implicated Dave in the explosion in your lab.”
That made her sit back. “But that was years ago! How can she be sure it’s connected?”
“A few months before the lab accident, Dave approached Marcia and asked her to keep him apprised of developments with your project.”
Hannah frowned. “That’s not terribly unusual.”
Owen conceded the point with a nod. “Apparently, he wanted more than the usual updates. She became suspicious, started asking questions. Then you made it clear some of the compounds weren’t suitable for further investigation. Marcia claims Dave decided to stage the explosion to get you out of the way and to send her a message.”
Hannah regarded him dubiously. “That seems a little far-fetched. Are you buying this?”
“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t. But she claims a piece of shrapnel from the explosion was sitting on her chair the next morning, along with a threatening note. I’ve got officers going to pick them up now.”
She felt the color drain from her face at his words. It was one thing to hear that Marcia had made these fantastical claims. Hannah could dismiss her words as a last-ditch attempt to explain away her involvement in this crime. But if there was actual evidence to support her story...
Owen leaned forward and reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Whoa. You okay?”
His touch steadied her, and for a moment she leaned into it, soaking up his strength. “I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”
“Hannah...” He trailed off, clearly reluctant. “There’s more.”
A sense of inevitability settled over her, weighing her down. “What else could there be?”
“Dave is the one who orchestrated the recent attacks on you. He’s gunning for you again.”
“Me?” She shook her head, convinced she had misunderstood. When Owen didn’t correct himself, her confusion turned to denial. “That doesn’t make any sense! I’m not involved in that work anymore. Why would he still care about me?”
“Because you got away.”
“That’s ridiculous!” She pushed back from the table and stood, needing to move, needing to burn off the nervous energy that had been building inside ever since Owen had entered the room.
“Dave was at the office when I went in for my appointment.”
She stopped, surprised by this news. “I didn’t see him there. Did you arrest him?”
He shook his head and lowered his gaze, looking defeated for the first time today. “He managed to escape. He’s the one who locked me and Marcia into a room and released the chemical to hurt us.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Marcia confirmed it. And before I saw him, I heard them arguing behind a closed door. She claims it was about you. He’s upset that you’re still alive, and he’s planning on doing something about it.”
A chill slithered down her spine, and she resisted the urge to hunch her shoulders. Her mind whirred, the pieces clicking into place. But something wasn’t adding up.
“Let me get this straight. Dave locked you and Marcia in a room and tried to off you both with a dangerous chemical, the same chemical he’s been testing on innocent victims?”
Owen nodded encouragingly.
“That means he must know that you’re a cop.”
“Maybe. He became suspicious after he saw the way Marcia reacted when she saw me in the hall. He might not know I’m a cop, but he knows we’re chasing him now.”
“How did he escape, anyway? I thought you guys had the office covered.”
Owen winced, as if the question pained him. “We did,” he muttered. “But we didn’t realize the air ducts ran through the entire building, rather than just the single office. He climbed into the vents and crawled all the way down to the store at the end of the building, then walked out as if nothing was wrong.”
She raised a brow, and he had the grace to blush. “It wasn’t our finest moment,” he allowed.
Taking pity on him, she decided not to comment further. “Regardless, I think we can safely assume he knows the police are after him now.”
“Most likely. We weren’t exactly trying to hide today.” He made an impatient gesture with his hand. “What’s your point?”
“My point,” she replied evenly, “i
s that he’s probably focused on running right now rather than coming after me.”
Owen gaped at her, disbelief written all over his face. “I can’t believe you’re not taking this seriously.”
“What’s to take seriously?” She held up her hand, ticking off her points as she spoke. “You have the words of a desperate woman who’s probably trying to distract attention from her own involvement. You have a man on the run who is probably more concerned with saving his own skin than coming back for me, a person who hasn’t been involved in this work for years. How, exactly, do you think I should respond?”
He stood and moved toward her, crowding into her personal space. She refused to back down, raising her head to meet his gaze. “We need to make sure you’re protected in case he tries something again.”
“Now who’s being unreasonable? Do you realize how unlikely it is he’s going to come after me? Are you really suggesting I change the way I live on the off chance I’m still in danger?”
“I’m not asking you to change your life,” he told her, running a hand through his hair. “I just think you need to be careful.”
“And what does that entail, exactly? A bodyguard? Moving to a new place? Only going out at certain times, and to certain places?” She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that—”
“I’m not doing it,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ve lived in fear before, lived with constant insecurity and worry. I’m not going to do it again.” It had taken her a long time to find peace of mind after the accident, and she refused to sacrifice it now based on such thin evidence.
“I don’t want you to be afraid,” he replied, a definite edge to his voice. “But you need to recognize that you’re still a target.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. “You’re right—Dave is probably too worried about getting caught to try something himself. But that doesn’t mean he won’t hire the job out.”
That possibility was a little harder to dismiss, but she still wasn’t ready to give in. “When do you think this attempt on my life will happen?”