An arsonist might offer to help with a bucket brigade. A murderer might join a search party for his missing victim. A bomber might want to help rescue survivors or somehow insinuate himself into the investigation.
So was this guy just some ordinary asshole in the crowd—or perhaps a criminal taking pride in his work and looking for a souvenir photo? She needed those photos. He might have caught something, anything, that could help them.
As she got closer the man in the blue shirt spotted her and flashed her a huge grin, then he turned around and fled.
Why run—unless he had something to hide.
“Stop him,” Lara cried as she raced ahead and tried to keep his shirt in view. She slid under the yellow crime scene tape alongside the uniformed cop. “Stop that man,” she yelled for anyone who might help her.
She elbowed and pushed her way through the crowd, unmindful of the protests that followed her aggressive action. Damn the gawkers! Their presence only made things more difficult.
She wanted that man. She needed to catch him. His behavior had been too odd to ignore. There...next to a tall woman wearing a blinged-out NYC ball cap. She raced in that direction, the pointy edges of the badge she’d picked up off the ground and tucked in her pocket jabbing her as she ran.
She reached the woman in the ball cap, but the blue-shirted man was gone. Frantically her gaze shot from the left to the right. A flash of blue to her right sent her running in that direction.
The man turned, grinned and waved at her and then disappeared. She stopped once again, frantically searching the crowd. Where had he gone? Why was he playing a cat-and-mouse game with her?
She tensed as she saw a splash of blue, but it was a woman wearing a blue windbreaker. Damn. Where in the hell had he gone?
“Do you see him?” she yelled to the uniformed cop who had joined her in the chase.
“No, no I don’t.”
Lara continued to push forward, but the man she sought seemed to have vanished into thin air. She desperately scanned the crowd. How could he have just disappeared? Somehow he’d been swallowed by the throng of people.
“Dammit!” she exclaimed.
The uniformed cop joined her. She glimpsed the name on his badge. “Officer Brady, that guy may turn out to be nothing, but could you write up a report on this and send it to Agent Ruiz at CMU?”
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Did he say anything to you? Did he tell you his name?” she asked.
“No, he just told me if I had a problem with him taking pictures then I should arrest him.” Brady’s wide forehead pulled down into a scowl. “He knew he wasn’t breaking any laws, the scumbag.”
She pulled her card out of her wallet and handed it to him. “I’d appreciate you making that report.” She also pulled out the badge she’d picked up earlier. “And see that this gets where it belongs.”
Without waiting for his reply she turned and headed back to the scene, cursing herself for not being fast enough to nab the guy.
He was probably nothing more than a creep, but there was also the chance that he might be more. She just hoped like hell that the only clue they might get from this horrific scene hadn’t just slipped through her fingers.
Chapter Two
Lara’s boot heels clicked against the marble floor of the lobby as she entered 26 Federal Plaza, home to a number of government agencies including Homeland Security, the Social Security Administration and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
On most days Lara was more comfortable here than she was at her apartment. She was more at home at work than she’d ever been growing up in her childhood home.
Victoria had called a meeting of the Crisis Management Unit for 7:00 a.m. and Lara was feeling the effects of a very late night combined with a few too many drinks.
She’d needed a couple shots of whiskey to chase away the thick taste of smoke that had lingered in her throat, the visions of death that had refused to leave her mind. She’d required several cups of black coffee this morning to recover.
She gave herself a mental kick in the ass. Now wasn’t the time for her to be tired or even a little bit hungover. She needed to be at the top of her game to catch the person or persons responsible for the deaths of nineteen people and the injuries sustained by thirty-two more. At least that’s what the casualty count had been when she’d finally gone home just after two this morning.
She stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the twenty-third floor where the FBI and her specialized team were located.
The whole city was in shock and on edge. Two bomb blasts in less than a month and the public was loudly demanding answers. Lara definitely wanted to find those answers sooner rather than later.
The elevator door whooshed open and she stepped out, flashing her credentials to the security guard on duty. She then walked down the long hallway that would take her to the CMU headquarters. Angela Martinez, the new receptionist, greeted her with a grim smile.
Lara nodded to her and then entered the CMU bull pen. Cubicles were along the walls of the room, with offshoot hallways to other rooms. She wasn’t surprised that nobody was there. All her teammates were probably already gathered in the conference room for the morning briefing.
The Crisis Management Unit had been created two years ago to deal with the kind of assignments nobody else wanted. They worked a variety of cases...dirty, ugly crimes like human trafficking and child pornography. They infiltrated gangs to get the worst of the worst off the streets. They often worked with other agencies, but always preferred it when their team was in charge.
She had already worked with Victoria Russo before in Washington, DC, and when she’d heard that the savvy woman was heading up this new specialized team, she’d wanted in.
She’d never dreamed that in the first year of working here so much of her life would unravel. Her life had been put into turmoil by one of the roughest, deadliest cases she’d ever worked.
Going undercover in the Moretti crime ring had only been the beginning. She’d made mistakes and ultimately those mistakes had tested not only her, but the strength of her whole team. The past year had been one of the toughest of Lara’s life.
She entered the conference room to see only Nick seated at the table. “Where’s everyone else?” she asked in surprise.
Nick shrugged his broad shoulders as his brown eyes quickly swept the length of her and shot back up to hold her gaze. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
Lara sat across from him at the long table. Her mind went back to the last time they’d been together. It had been just over a year ago. There had been too many whiskeys drunk and then a hot and frenzied coupling that had little to do with love and plenty to do with raw desire and hungry need. His scent was still so familiar to her, one of minty soap and the subtle spicy cologne that he always wore.
As always whenever she was stressed she thought about Nick in her bed. Last year they’d shared a series of secretive hookups. She’d broken it off, but he was like a bad habit and more than once over the past year she’d considered indulging in that habit again.
It wasn’t that she wanted him on a romantic basis. Sex with him helped her to lose herself in her body and not have to think. He was a mental and physical escape from her inner demons, a relief from the stress that sometimes threatened to consume her.
Thankfully, at that moment Supervisory Agent and Unit Chief Victoria Russo swept into the room. As always the forty-nine-year-old woman was impeccably groomed. No matter what situation the unit faced, Victoria’s ash blond hair was always styled in a neat bob and her power suits and blouses were always neatly pressed.
Victoria was not only their boss, but also a strong and fair leader to be admired, one who managed to bring out the best in each of her agents. With Xander and James down with the Crime Scene Unit tryin
g to get hold of early reports, and Ty and Jennifer working with Homeland on witness statements, Victoria wasted no time reporting back on her own assignments.
“The preliminary reports are that they believe the same type of bomb was used yesterday as the 34th Street bombing, but at this point it’s not a confirmed finding,” she said. “None of the usual terrorist organizations are claiming any responsibility.”
“If it was an ISIS cell or any other extremist terrorist group, they’d already be crowing with the success,” Nick said.
“That’s why we think it’s possible this is some sort of a lone wolf, although we have no idea of the motivation,” Victoria replied. “I want you two to go today and interview the two survivors who reported being told about a free music concert just before the bombs went off.”
Lara stifled a sigh. She’d hoped to work this one alone. She wasn’t exactly a team player and the last person she needed to work closely with right now was her partner.
Lately she’d gotten the impression that he worried that she was losing her focus. She wondered if he was catching on to her extracurricular activities, although she had no idea how he could possibly know what she did in her off hours.
“The survivor from yesterday is twenty-six-year-old Kevin Manning. He’s currently at New York Methodist Hospital with lower limb injuries,” Victoria said. “Tammy Lathrop, the survivor from the 34th Street bomb is at her home. I’ve already let her know you’ll be coming to speak with her.”
“Is there a connection between the two?” Nick asked, his voice filled with speculation. “Why would these two people be saved? What was so special about them? As far as we know they’re the only two.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time some serial killer saved a life,” Lara replied. “Look at Ted Bundy. He saved a three-year-old child from drowning and then there was the Gennessee River killer who saved a prison guard during a riot.”
“It’s possible there are more than just these two and hopefully we’ll find them or they will come forward. But in the meantime these two need to be investigated thoroughly. We’re looking for a connection that might make some sense of all this,” Victoria replied.
“Let’s go see what we can find out,” Lara replied. She wanted action. She wanted to bust this case wide open. Restless energy coursed through her as Victoria gave them the rest of the particulars on the two survivors.
Finally they were off. They got into Nick’s official car. While he pulled out of the parking garage, Lara scanned the interview that team members Ty Jackson and Jennifer Gulden had conducted with Tammy Lathrop immediately after the 34th Street bombing three weeks prior.
“Which one first?” he asked.
“Let’s head out to the Brooklyn hospital and interview Kevin first,” she replied. “Everything will still be fresh in his mind.”
“Hell of a mess. Did you have nightmares last night?” he asked.
“No,” she lied.
He cast her a knowing glance. “Any sane, normal person would have suffered nightmares after the terrible scene yesterday.”
“Whoever told you I was a sane and normal person?” she replied.
He released a small laugh. “Absolutely nobody that I know of ever.”
Lara focused her gaze out the passenger window. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this one, Nick.”
“That doesn’t exactly make me happy. Your gut instincts are usually right on target.”
The last time she’d had this kind of feeling the Moretti case had exploded. Although Lara had been the primary target of Moretti’s sick games, two other agents had wound up as collateral damage.
Her stomach tightened as she thought of the dark-haired, dark-eyed agent who had been murdered when the crime boss Moretti had targeted the unit and, more specifically, Lara. Mei Wang had been a great agent, a real loss to the team, and her partner, Ty, had mourned the young woman’s death.
And Lara didn’t even want to think about Cassandra McDonner’s betrayal right now. The haunted tech agent was now in jail for colluding with Moretti’s brother to bring down Lara.
“Let’s just hope there’s a connection between our two survivors that can be exploited to get some answers,” Nick continued. “Maybe if we can find a connection between them we’ll also discover what the motive is.”
And with a motive, they might be able to stop the bomber before he acted again, she thought hopefully.
They rode the rest of the way to the hospital in silence. New York Methodist Hospital had served the Brooklyn area for years. It was a voluntary acute-care facility located in the Park Slope neighborhood.
Kevin Manning was on the second floor in a private room. He looked like he’d been through a war zone. He was a handsome clean-cut blond with bright blue eyes, but his face was marred by cuts and contusions and one of his legs was wrapped in bandages from thigh to ankle.
“They took enough glass out of my leg to make a couple of big windows,” he said after they had introduced themselves.
“We’re sorry about your injuries,” Nick replied.
“Where were you when the bomb went off?” Lara asked, eager to cut to the chase.
“I was on my way out of the police station. I just managed to get outside when it detonated.”
“And why were you in the police station in the first place?” Nick asked.
“I was in there to lodge a complaint about an abandoned car left in front of my duplex. Some asshole parked there illegally two weeks ago and hasn’t been back since,” Kevin replied. He winced slightly and raised the head of his bed.
“Did you make the complaint?” Nick asked.
Kevin shook his head. “I never got that far. I was waiting in line and some guy sidled up next to me and whispered that Bruno Mars was outside giving a free concert. I figured I could always talk to the police later, but it wasn’t every day I could hear a free Bruno Mars concert. I had just walked out the door when the bomb blew.”
“What did the guy look like?” Lara stepped closer to the side of the hospital bed.
Kevin frowned. “He was just a regular guy. Maybe in his thirties and he had on jeans and a T-shirt and wore a New York Mets ball cap. I noticed that because I’m a big Mets fan. He also had on mirrored sunglasses.”
“What color was his hair?” Nick asked.
Kevin’s frown deepened. “It was kind of hard to tell with the hat on, but I think he was blond.”
“Had you ever seen him before?” Lara asked.
“No, never in my life,” Kevin replied without hesitation.
“What about his body type? Was he tall, short or what?” Nick asked.
“Tall and thin.” Kevin reached for a drink cup on the table next to him. He took a sip from the straw and looked at them with troubled eyes. “Whoever that guy was, he saved my life. If I hadn’t moved when I did, I’d be dead.”
That guy might have saved Kevin’s life, but he’d killed so many others, Lara thought grimly. What kind of a game was he playing?
For the next couple of hours Nick and Lara asked questions about Kevin’s life, his habits and his friends. They wanted to know where he ate and got his hair cut, what gym he used and any other information that might yield a clue as to why he was chosen by a stranger to survive a bomb blast.
It was almost noon when they left the hospital to head to Tammy Lathrop’s home back in Manhattan. As Nick drove, Lara read over the previous interview that Ty and Jennifer had done with Tammy. “The interview with Tammy isn’t particularly in depth,” she said.
“That’s because the general consensus at the time was that she was a complete crackpot. Nobody believed her story of some stranger telling her about a free concert right before a bomb exploded,” he replied.
“What are the odds of having two crackpots with the same story after two s
eparate bombings?”
She didn’t expect an answer and Nick didn’t give her one. “You can take the lead on this one,” she said as he pulled up and parked at the curb at Tammy’s address. “You always have such a way with the ladies.”
“At least with most of them.” He flashed her a dark look that spoke of unresolved issues between them. Hell, her life at the moment was filled with plenty of unresolved issues and at this point in her life Nick wasn’t at the top of those she wanted resolved.
They got out of the car and approached the attractive brownstone where Tammy rented the garden apartment. It was another beautiful fall day with warm temperatures and the trees just beginning to show colors of orange and red.
Tammy Lathrop was twenty-four years old, also blond and with midnight blue eyes. She ushered them into a small kitchen where cheerful yellow curtains fluttered with a light breeze and a cutting board was on the counter with a variety of vegetables half-prepared.
“Sorry, I was in the middle of fixing some lunch. I turned vegan last year to get healthier.” She motioned toward the small kitchen table and gestured for them to sit.
As Nick began the line of questioning about her work, her friends and her lifestyle, Lara studied the young woman closely. Tammy was everything Lara was not and had never been.
Despite the fact that she was eight years younger than Lara, Tammy looked more pulled together at noon on a Friday than Lara would ever be in her life.
If Lara managed to get mascara and her boots on before she got out her front door, she considered it a good day. Her favorite meal was junk food and she’d never met a vegetable she hadn’t declined.
The navy sweatpants Tammy wore were chic rather than sloppy on her slender frame, and the navy blue T-shirt advertised a popular whole foods store.
Lara sat up straighter in the chair as Nick moved the conversation to the day in question. “Where were you just before the bomb detonated?”
“Like I told the other two agents who spoke to me right after it happened, I was waiting in line to order a strawberry banana smoothie in Smoothie Heaven,” she replied and her eyes darkened. Lara noticed a slight tremor in her hands.
Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set Page 2