He turned back to Agent Prentiss. “Bag those clues in the bathroom while Opal and I check the garage, just to be safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cell phone in Max’s pocket buzzed again. This time he answered. “West.” The moment the caller spoke his already fast pulse shot off the charts.
Katerina sounded breathless. “I saw him. I mean I met him. He came into the diner—”
“Who did?”
“The guy who’s been stalking me. I thought he looked a little familiar when I served him but I wasn’t sure until he said something.”
“Then you can identify him? What’s his name?”
“He said it was Kyle.”
“No last name?” Max clenched his teeth. He needed to be there, to look after Katerina. Identifying her stalker face-to-face put her in far more jeopardy than before.
“He didn’t say. But I got you something better. I have his prints on his coffee mug.”
“Great! Is he still there?”
“No. He left right after I told him about the explosion at the ranch.” Max heard her catch her breath. “Oh, and he told me what he’s looking for. You aren’t going to believe this. He said Vern hid diamonds!”
“What?”
“You heard me. Diamonds. I have no idea where he got them or why he hid them but that’s what Kyle is looking for. He thinks Vern told me where they are.”
Pausing, Max considered waiting to ask his next question until they were together again, then changed his mind. “Did he tell you?”
“Of course not!” Katerina was practically shouting into the phone.
“I had to ask. I hope you understand. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.”
Her “Fine” was crisp and her mood hard to interpret.
“Where are you now?”
“Still at work,” she said. “I stepped out into the alley to call you so we wouldn’t be overheard.”
Max checked the time. “Okay. It’s going to take me hours to wrap up here and make it back to you. Promise you’ll be careful, Katerina. Stay around people. Don’t be caught alone unless you’re locked in a room at the hotel.”
“What shall I do with the fingerprints?”
“Put the mug into a plastic bag and try to keep it from rubbing on the sides. We may get DNA from where the guy drank, too.”
“Okay. I promised my boss that I’d work a double shift. I’ll stay here until morning unless you come to get me before that.”
“Fine. I’ll send someone by to pick up the mug so it doesn’t get misplaced. Just hang on to it until then.”
“Gotcha. How’s your investigation going up there?”
“Don’t ask,” Max said. “Just take care of yourself.”
“I...” Her words were cut off by a vibration and boom that was so loud it hurt his ear.
“Katerina! Katerina, answer me. What just happened?”
She didn’t have to reply for him to know. There had been another explosion in California.
And this time he wasn’t there to pick up the pieces.
Or Katerina Garwood.
TEN
The blast rocked Katerina’s world, its flash nearly blinding her despite the bright summer sun that beat down. Instinct caused her to drop the cell phone, duck and cover her head. In the background she began to hear shouting and wailing. Shards of the diner’s plate-glass windows lay in the street. Its Miner’s Grub sign was hanging by one wire, swinging like a bird’s broken wing and looking so pitiful she wanted to cry.
A brief mental check of her own physical condition proved she was uninjured, so she straightened and picked her way back inside. The dining area was in shambles. Broken glass and crockery lay scattered on every flat surface. Exterior windows were missing. Seats from a rear booth were shredded like confetti while the table had been upended and lay in the aisle.
She shouted to her boss. “Xavier, are you okay?”
His “Aye, aye, aye, what happened?” echoed from the kitchen.
“I think it was a bomb,” she answered. “Come help me if you can. And call 9-1-1. My phone is broken.”
The middle-aged man pushed his way out of the kitchen and surveyed the ruins of his diner. A phone was pressed to one ear and he had tears in his eyes. “They want to know if anybody is hurt,” he relayed to Katerina as she tended to an elderly woman with a napkin pressed to her shoulder.
“We didn’t have many customers but some do have cuts from the flying glass. They’d better send ambulances.”
Firemen in turnouts were first through the opening where the door used to hang. They triaged victims and organized their treatment while uniformed officers tried to get answers. Katerina recognized Sheriff Tate, who was the first to approach her.
Instead of offering sympathy or asking if she was all right, he gestured to one of the patrolmen. “Arrest this young woman until we get everything sorted out,” he said, taking Katerina’s arm and pulling her away from the victim she’d been comforting. “She was involved in another bombing a few days ago.”
“This is not my fault!” Katerina resisted being manhandled and jerked out of his grasp. “Ask the FBI. They’ll tell you I’m innocent.”
“I don’t see any FBI agents,” the sheriff said with a mock grin. Handing her over to the police he backed off and dusted his hands together as if removing dirt. “Far as I’m concerned you can keep that girl locked up till she confesses.”
“To what?” Katerina shouted.
“Conspiracy to commit murder. I’m sure we can come up with a few other charges but that one’ll hold you for now.”
Incredulous, she scanned the crowd looking for anyone who would stand up for her. Most seemed to be in shock, although a few were nodding as if they agreed with her accuser. Even Xavier made no move to interfere in her arrest.
Call Max, her mind screamed. But she couldn’t. Not only was the cell phone he’d given her lying in the alley with a cracked screen, she had failed to memorize his private number because there had been no need.
He’ll come for me, she told herself over and over. He had to have overheard the blast while they’d been talking and would certainly realize she needed his help. Besides, he was trying to track down associates of the Duprees and one of their trademarks had been bombings. Max would be back.
As she was dragged through what was left of the front door, Katerina remembered the clue she’d preserved. She looked back. Everything had been blown off the prep counter. Including the mug with the evidence. Even if she managed to locate the right one in the rubble there would be no way to prove it was Kyle’s and check his prints.
The bad guys had won. Again.
* * *
Max arranged for an FBI helicopter to pick him up and fly him to an airport. No commercial flight for him this time. He’d insisted on a government jet and got it. By the time he landed and picked up his SUV, barely three hours had elapsed.
Communications with Dylan O’Leary brought him up to speed on the diner explosion as he drove south. Injuries were, thankfully, minor. Because Katerina had been outside talking to him when the bomb went off, she had escaped completely.
“Except that they arrested her,” Dylan added grimly.
“What? On what charge?”
“You’re gonna get a kick out of this. Attempted murder. My sources tell me she was held because the sheriff insisted. They also tell me that particular lawman is a close friend of her daddy’s.”
“Bertrand Garwood again,” Max gritted out. “I’m beginning to see him as a link rather than Katerina.”
Dylan chuckled. “Is that because he’s not as pretty as his daughter?”
“Hah. Very funny, although true. Her mother must have been a real stunner because she sure doesn’t look like her da
d.”
“I take it that’s a plus,” the techie said.
“Oh, yeah.” Max kept his eyes on the road while his mind took a detour. Visualizing Katerina being put in handcuffs and hauled off to jail was intolerable. How scared she must be. The mere thought of tears pooling in those beautiful, expressive blue eyes pierced his gut like a lance and made him yearn to take her in his arms and assure her that everything was going to be okay. He’d see to it. Somehow.
“Headquarters to Special Agent West,” Dylan quipped. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t like it.”
“Well, chill. Your girlfriend is safer locked up in a local jail than she’d be on the street right now.”
Max exhaled a long, deep breath. “As much as I hate to admit it, I suppose I agree. Have you run across any new threats?”
“A few. That sheriff owes her plenty considering the way he spoke out and blamed her in front of all those bystanders and first responders. It’s going to take a while to convince some folks she had nothing to do with the bombing.”
“Do you think someone was trying to get her?”
To Max’s relief, Dylan said, “No. If they had been they wouldn’t have waited until she was outside before triggering the device.”
“Unless it was random and they weren’t watching.”
“There is that. How far out are you?”
“An hour, give or take. I’m using my lights but no siren.”
“This is an emergency?”
Max snorted before answering, “It is to me.”
* * *
The Mariposa County Jail wasn’t all that bad if Katerina compared it to her former apartment, particularly after Kyle had trashed it. At least there was a cot and a blanket and pillow in her cell.
Waiting for Max would have been intolerable if she had not expended so much nervous energy after the blast. As the jolt of adrenaline began to wear off, her body responded with core-deep weariness.
Although she promised herself she’d stay awake and try to figure out who could have planted the explosive device in poor Señor Alvarez’s little diner, her body insisted she must rest. That’s why she lay down on the cot. And why she was awakened by Max’s voice several hours later.
“Katerina! Are you all right?”
Her lids fluttered open in time to watch him demand that the cell door be unlocked. The sight of him brought instantly renewed hope and strength, both of which were sorely needed.
She swung her legs over the side of the cot and sat up. Words were inadequate to express her feelings at that moment. Max was here. He’d come back. She started to stand, wobbled a tiny bit and felt him lift her into his embrace.
Never had she felt so safe. Her arms slipped around his waist and she held tight. “Oh, Max, they blew up the diner. It was awful.” Katerina felt his warm breath on her hair and wondered if she was imagining the rain of kisses, the press of his lips. Tightening her hold she whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She heard a catch in his throat when he asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I am now.”
“Reports say nobody was killed or badly injured. Is that what you saw?” His hold on her remained firm.
“Yes.” After several long moments she raised her face to gaze at him and was rewarded with the soft brush of his lips on hers.
“I nearly died when I heard that blast and you stopped talking.”
“I dropped the phone you gave me. It broke. I didn’t have your number written down.” She glanced to one side. “Tate thinks I’m some kind of mad bomber.”
“So I heard.” Max began to smile with tenderness. “He may not realize it but he did us a favor. You were far safer waiting for me in this cell than you would have been going back to your hotel room.”
“Can you get me out?”
“Already done,” he said huskily. “You’re now officially in federal custody. Ready to go?”
Katerina kept one arm around his waist and he encircled her shoulders as they turned and left together. Wondering what she would have done, how she could have coped without Max’s help made her tremble. There was no way she could deny how desperately she needed him, nor did she want to. It wasn’t weakness to acknowledge a need for moral support, it was a matter of setting aside foolish pride and admitting she wasn’t as complete as she had imagined.
Oh, she had her faith and believed Jesus was with her in all things, yet there was also an instinctive desire for an earthly friend who would stand by her. Defend her when she was attacked or falsely accused. Just be there.
That was where Max came in. His presence filled her with a sense of strength and rightness that had been missing for as long as she could remember. As she mulled over recent events she was amazed at how, despite efforts to harm her and those she loved, God had turned evil into good. There were still plenty of serious hurdles to overcome, of course, but Max had returned without her asking. And he had sought her out, made arrangements to help her, stood by her even after admitting he’d had doubts about her innocence.
And now, finally, she could help him with his investigation. The fingerprints on the mug were gone, yes, but her memory remained sharp. She could identify the cohort of her late fiancé and give Max something to work with that might tie to others and snowball into solving the entire case.
Then there were the diamonds, assuming Vern hadn’t lied about that, too. It was a possibility. After all, if he was being pressed to deliver drugs or money and didn’t have it, he might have invented a story about hiding gemstones just to save his own neck.
Which hadn’t worked, she thought, realizing that her initial notion about why he’d died may have been right. If he’d been tortured too much and had kept holding back because he had no choice, he could very easily have driven his tormentors to press him too hard. Dead was dead, of course. It just seemed more logical to assume they had not meant to kill Vern until they’d made him talk.
Once in the street, she paused and looked up at Max. “What if nobody finds any diamonds? What if they don’t even exist?”
“One day at a time, honey,” he said gently. “I want to get you back to the hotel where we can talk privately and try to sort out the facts as we know them.”
Blinking back tears, Katerina never took her eyes off him when she said, “The only thing I know for sure is that I have never been so happy to see anybody as I am to see you.”
“Likewise, Ms. Garwood. When I heard that blast over the phone I couldn’t stop thinking...”
“Yeah. Me, too. If I’d been clearing off that table instead of calling you, I might have been blown up.”
“Can you describe the last customer who was sitting in the booth at the heart of the damage?”
Slowly, thoughtfully, she shook her head. “It’s all a blur. The whole afternoon is. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have a few tricks we can try to jog your memory. They sometimes help a lot.”
“Sometimes?”
Max nodded. “Yes. If one thing doesn’t work we try others. My job isn’t pure science the way they depict it on TV. It’s more like throwing mud at a wall and hoping some of it will stick. Speaking of mud, did you get your prize ribbons clean?”
“Yes. Thanks for asking. They aren’t as pretty as they once were but they’ll do as mementos.”
“I’m glad,” Max said softly.
Katerina knew he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Although they had known each other for a very short time, she was already able to read him like a book. For the most part, anyway. No doubt he was hiding parts of his psyche that he felt were too vulnerable to reveal but she could wait. It was enough to know that he cared, to see the tenderness in his gaze and feel the tingle his deep voice brought on when they were speaking pr
ivately. The depth and scope of those feelings were new to her. Overwhelming. What was the most unsettling was an assuredness that Vern had never affected her that way. Not even when he’d proposed. Perhaps that was why she had hesitated before agreeing to marry him.
She let Max help her into the car before she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank You, God, for interfering before I made the second biggest mistake of my life.” And speaking of life... “Thank You for preserving mine and keeping the customers safe.”
Katerina’s subconscious continued the prayer silently as Max slid behind the wheel. Just looking at him made her so thankful it brought tears to her eyes. She dashed them away so he wouldn’t notice.
There was no place she’d rather be than right there. And nobody she’d rather be sitting beside. The threatening world outside the SUV no longer terrified her as long as her handsome special agent was nearby.
“You okay?” Max asked as they drove toward the hotel.
“Fine. More than fine,” Katerina said, taking the chance that he shared her feelings. “You’re here.”
* * *
Max had to wait for his heart to slow down before he dared try small talk. He had not intended to make Katerina dependent upon him, it had just happened. In this case it was probably beneficial since he did want her compliance and cooperation. He hoped that she understood he was not actually courting her, he was simply doing his job—at least that was what he kept telling himself when his emotions took over.
He chanced a sidelong glance beneath arched eyebrows. “Thanks. Our FBI motto is Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity.”
“Nice. I read it on the seal.”
“It’s not just a pretty logo. It’s how we live our lives, Katerina,” Max told her.
“So...” She deftly switched gears. “How did everything turn out with the missing agent you were searching for back in Montana?”
“Not sure. We spotted someone who looked a little like him fleeing the scene, but until we get some DNA results back we’re just guessing.”
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