Harlequin Romantic Suspense July 2021 Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  CHAPTER 17

  Troy could still picture Evangeline’s face a half hour later as he tried to work his way through a response to Oren Margulies. The US marshal had been kind enough to offer to answer any additional questions Troy might have and Troy wanted to see if the guy had any insight or experience that might help them find Baldwin Bowe.

  Even as he typed, then deleted, then typed some more, Troy couldn’t find his focus.

  All he could see was Evangeline’s face when she turned away from him in the parking lot and got into her car.

  He’d hurt her. That much was evident. More than evident, he admitted to himself, because he knew it was purposeful. And much as it pained him to do it, he needed to begin making the break with her.

  The discovery of the gaslighting had broken the case open and now that they had a phone number they were running down, he and Brett would go deal with the restaurant owner and get the entire situation resolved. This nightmare she’d been living in would all be over.

  Just like him and Evangeline.

  It was the right thing to do. More than right, he considered as he typed another paragraph to Margulies. The Davison and Bowe cases needed his full attention.

  His full focus.

  So why did he feel so miserable?

  “Ellie got us a name and an address.” Brett’s voice flowed into the office a few beats before he walked in. “Sal Petrillo. Guy owns That’s Amore, an Italian restaurant downtown.”

  Troy knew the place. He’d been there on a few dates and had done takeout a time or two. “I know it. It’s been there a few years. Guy opened it after moving down from Detroit, best I remember.”

  “Your intel matches Ellie’s. She also said she’s heard rumors the reason Petrillo moved down from Detroit was that he had some debts up there he never really paid off.”

  Troy hit Send on his email. “Oh, he does?”

  “Since I’ve learned in the very short time I’ve been here that Ellie is always right, who am I to argue?”

  “You learn fast, Shea.”

  “I like to think so.”

  Troy texted Evangeline to see if she knew anything about the restaurant or had any run-ins with its owner. As he hit Send, a small shot of remorse filled him at the simplicity of the text and the way he’d shot out an order to text back, but he had to ignore it. He needed an answer and he wasn’t composing damn love notes.

  In a matter of minutes they’d arrived at the restaurant and Troy looked around as he got out of the car, pushing the text to the back of his mind.

  “It’s not that far from Evangeline’s alley.”

  “No, it’s not.” Brett pointed in the direction of the row of buildings that spread before them. “I’d say one major block over, give or take a few storefronts.”

  “Right you are.”

  Troy considered it as they walked up to That’s Amore. A neon Open sign was lit over the door and they walked into the scents of tomato sauce and baking pizza. Although this place didn’t back up to the alleyway where Evangeline saw the purported shooting, it would be easy enough to squeeze through a few buildings to come out to this one.

  Again, he filed it away as a hostess greeted them. “Can I help you? The dining room’s closed until dinner but we can still do take-out orders.”

  “I’m actually looking for someone.” Troy shared the number that had been included on Ella’s note. “I have a number and I understand it’s associated with this restaurant.”

  For the first time the woman looked uneasy and Troy pulled out his badge, as did Brett. “We need to know if you recognize it.”

  It had been a deliberate gamble, but they’d not called the number in advance, instead hoping to catch the owner here. The hostess’s response confirmed it was the right one.

  “Yeah, that’s Sal’s number. He’s the owner. He’s in the back. I’ll just go get him.”

  “Clumsy move to use his phone and to get dumb kids to make calls for him,” Brett observed as he moved around the small waiting area. There were a few framed newspaper articles on the walls, the sort local restaurants put up to affirm they were part of the community. Troy scanned them for any insight into the mysterious Sal and it was only as his gaze alighted on the last one that he recognized the image.

  From the sketch his sister had done.

  He was about to call Brett over when the hostess walked back out from the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry, Detectives, but Sal left, apparently. Right after the lunch rush wrapped. Or what passes for it these days.”

  “Do you know where he went?” Troy asked, that same uncomfortable feeling that had ridden him in his office flaring high like a bonfire.

  The woman shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Troy grabbed his phone from his belt to check. No answering text from Evangeline filled up the screen. He turned to Brett, his gut screaming that they already knew the location of the elusive Sal. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Evangeline struggled against the bonds at her wrist but didn’t dare move too fast. The big, beefy man who’d been at the heart of all that had happened to her was surprisingly quick and had done an even quicker job jamming her into a kitchen chair.

  One that he’d already rigged with a bomb underneath.

  One he’d told her about as he slammed her into place, tying her hands behind her.

  Thoughts raced around in her mind as she desperately tried to come up with a plan. She had no experience with bombs but based on the gingerly way he’d maneuvered around her once he had it set, she had to assume the situation was sensitive.

  And highly deadly.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You’ve ruined my life.”

  “Me? I don’t even know you.”

  It was the wrong thing to say and it had his ire flaring, his face turning a mottled shade of red. “You’ve ruined my business. It’s your fault that piece of scum is out on the streets. No one’s willing to go out anymore. I was getting by on a shoestring as it is. And now they’ve found me.”

  “Who found you?”

  He turned bloodshot eyes, buried deep in his face, on her. “Some guys I owe money to back in Detroit. I guess I didn’t run far enough away. Figured this dump of a town would be plenty of protection. Why would anyone look for me here? I’d get back on my feet, run a good business and make my money back, and then I could pay what I owe.”

  While she took serious offense at hearing her home characterized that way, antagonizing him wasn’t going to help the situation. “I can assure you, I’m as upset as you about the murders. I was put on leave because of the Len Davison case and I’m heartsick to know he’s killed more people.”

  “Keep your sob story to yourself. My business is down fifty percent. No one can pay off a loan when they can barely pay the rent. And that’s damn hard when no one wants romantic dinners when a killer is on the loose. All the publicity your case drummed up for the loser put me smack in the crosshairs of my loan sharks. One of ’em saw me on TV, standing in front of my restaurant waving away those damned protestors.”

  Evangeline had no idea how the man had twisted the story around to suit himself, but it was obvious he had.

  Even more obvious: Whatever story he’d told himself had become his truth.

  Her legal case with Len Davison, terrible as it was, had no bearing on unpaid loans to unsavory people. And if she’d hoped that sharing her sob story would build a kinship between them, she was sorely mistaken. His eyes only turned meaner. “Figured the cops would ignore you and think you were crazy. Make it all so easy for me. Only they’ve gotten closer than ever.”

  “You were the one behind it all?”

  “Figured I’d have some fun with you for a while. You’ve given me enough sleepless nights. Thought I’d toss some your way.”

  Although she had
little hope she’d be successful, Evangeline tried once more. “Look. I’m sorry your business is failing but I’m sure we can figure something out. Make a deal or something. I’m part of the county DA’s office and I’m sure we can work with the city to help with some of your mounting financial problems.”

  He laughed hard at that, the mirthless sound seeming to rattle around the kitchen. “Just like every other lawyer I’ve ever known. You think you can talk your way out of everything. Only, you can’t.”

  As she stared at him, Evangeline knew the truth.

  She couldn’t talk her way out of this one. Just like she couldn’t run far enough away from the bomb, even if she did manage to get her hands free.

  And no one knew she was here with a madman and a bomb.

  No one at all.

  * * *

  “The shades are drawn.” Brett sized up the front of the condo from where he and Troy sat in the cruiser. Brett was in the driver’s seat and Ember rode in the back. And Troy felt like a caged animal in the passenger seat.

  “I need to get in there.”

  “We need to assess the situation and get backup.”

  Backup Troy had already been assured was on its way.

  “We’re going to start with a perimeter search with Ember. See if she picks up a scent.”

  “You can’t ask me to wait that long.”

  “I’m asking and I’m telling.” Brett turned to face him fully. “It’s what partners do. You have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. And I trust my K-9 to tell me what’s going on.”

  Brett had already picked up the stained white shirt from the evidence room before heading out to Evangeline’s. He reasoned that the lingering scents on the clothing would be enough for Ember to suss out if Evangeline’s stalker was here.

  Troy knew it was the right approach. He had nothing to go on except the lack of response to a text. If they went in guns blazing and she was in danger, they could do more harm. If they sat it out and ignored every clamoring nerve ending that said she was in danger, she could be hurt then, too.

  And then he’d never get to tell her he loved her.

  That thought lodged in his chest like an immovable boulder, heavy and suffocating.

  He loved her.

  And he had to get the chance to tell her.

  “Ember will be quick and then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

  Troy nodded and got out of the passenger seat. Brett had parked several spots down from Evangeline’s front door, hiding them from immediate view of anyone peeking through the blinds in her front window.

  With careful precision, he folded the shirt so that the stains were on the interior and the areas of the shirt untouched by blood could be sniffed by Ember. Troy feared that even with those precautions the synthetic blood would act as a block to Ember catching a scent, but Brett didn’t seem to harbor the same concerns.

  After sensitizing Ember with the shirt, Brett gave his orders and she was off.

  She moved around the front, sniffing along the perimeter of the building. It was only as she got to the edge of Evangeline’s condo that she stopped and sat.

  Brett heaped praise on her before pulling her away from the front door. “Let’s head around back.”

  As his partner suggested it, Troy recognized the benefit. Sal might have lurked around the front of the house but if they could get behind the building they’d likely have a better shot at catching him unawares.

  Troy visualized Evangeline’s home and the layout from the back door to kitchen, then on down the hallway to the living room and bedrooms. If they could catch him unaware...

  They moved as a team down the front of the condo building, around its side and then to the common area on the opposite side of the condo complex. The summer day ensured there were a few people out but all seemed to be focused on sunning themselves. As Ember continued smelling the perimeter, Troy heard the quiet step behind him.

  His sister Grace moved up beside him.

  “You shouldn’t be back here.”

  “I got the call. I’m here.” Her words along with the mulish expression shut him down before he could get a head of steam going. He still struggled knowing his baby sister was a rookie but he had to trust in her training.

  Had to trust in her.

  He quickly directed her and her partner to get the sunbathers off the property and away from the back of the complex. Grace nodded, clearly intent on answering his request immediately, before she turned back. “We’re pulling for you and her. All of us. Oh, and there are three more pairs of officers out front waiting for instruction.”

  “Thanks.”

  With his sister’s words still ringing in his ears, he caught up with Brett. And stilled when he saw the wide-eyed look his partner gave the K-9 as she sat abruptly, her face turned toward Evangeline’s back door.

  “Did she find something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Evangeline?”

  Brett’s expression was perfectly neutral. “Ember found a bomb, Troy. Based on where she’s perched, it’s through that door.”

  “The bastard has a bomb? What if she’s wrong?”

  “She’s not wrong.” Brett shook his head. “She’s trained for this. That nose is never wrong.”

  Troy wanted to rant and rail and say that no system was infallible, but he knew it was useless. Brett trusted Ember and he trusted Brett.

  And Ember knew her world through smell. His sister Annalise was a K-9 trainer. Hadn’t she bragged about her dogs through the years? Their ability to scent off the most minute detail?

  Brett pulled Ember away from the door, setting them up a few yards down to avoid being heard. “We need to call in the bomb squad. Now.”

  “We don’t have time for the bomb squad. He’s got her in there and he’s got no reason to keep her alive.”

  Brett considered for a minute before nodding. “I know how to dismantle it and I’ve got gear in the car. I know it’s precious minutes but it’s the best I can give you.”

  Troy nodded and was already on the move. He waved Grace over since she was closest, her partner still rounding up sunbathers, and gave her the details as they walked.

  “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.<
br />
  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.