The Prosecutor

by Nichole Severn

  As good as it felt to have him touch her, to care for her, to put her first, Madison pulled her knees up into her chest. “Jonah, stop. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re in this for more than the baby we made together.”

  “What are you talking about?” His hand settled against her leg, those brilliant blue eyes sharper than a minute ago.

  “You used yourself as a shield to protect me from the bomb in the courthouse, and you raced to get to that bridge in time before I went over, but it wasn’t for me, was it?” She smoothed her hand over her belly and lowered her chin toward her chest. “It was for him. Because you didn’t want to lose him, and I understand why. I can’t imagine how much pain and grief you’ve gone—”

  Jonah crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue breached the seam of her lips, and she gasped as her entire body caught fire. This. This was what she’d needed to cut herself off from the dark, cruel reality waiting for them outside these walls. She’d needed this kiss. She’d needed him.

  His fingertips dug into the side of her thigh, keeping her grounded and on cloud nine at the same time. She kissed him back with a wild desperation she hadn’t let herself feel in so long, granting him access to the deepest, most self-conscious parts of her. He hiked her knee over his hip to bring them closer, but all too soon, he was pulling away.

  Her pulse raged out of control. Her body screamed in protest as he put a foot of space between them, but she forced herself to remove her nails from his muscled back.

  “Let me make one thing clear, Counselor. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and the moment that bastard abducted you, I was set on killing him for putting your life in danger. Him and Marshal Cove for being stupid enough to leave you to protect yourself.” He cocked his head to the side, sliding his hand beneath the edge of her oversize shirt to graze his fingers along her belly. “We’re having a son together, Maddi, but he doesn’t detract from what I feel for you. What I’ve always felt for you. Nothing could. If anything, he’s only made me want you—what we had before you took that pregnancy test—more.”

  Shock stilled the air in her lungs. “You didn’t put yourself between me and that bomb because you were afraid of losing him?”

  “I won’t lie to you. That thought, and all the anger and fear I felt when I lost Noah, crossed my mind, but I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, too,” he said. “All those late nights in your office were some of the best times of my life, but having you here in the cabin in which I intended to raise my family far outweighs the pain I went through when my son passed away. I’ll never forget his loss and how his death drove me to join the marshals service, but I can’t only hold on to the bad parts of my past. I have to be able to focus on the good parts, too, and that’s where you come in.”

  Wow. She didn’t... She didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to feel. He cared about her. Not the fact she was carrying his baby but her, and her heart rate picked up a bit more. Madison brushed her thumb across his bottom lip where the skin had darkened after the battle with her abductor on the bridge. She hadn’t had anyone fight for her before—choose her—especially not her parents unless her existence managed to get them a larger payout from the government. She wasn’t sure how to process the intensity in his expression or where to go from here. She dropped her hand away from his mouth. She’d devoted her entire life to planning for the future, of being independent from everyone, but whatever this was between her and Jonah didn’t fit into that plan. What did that mean? “Those were some of my best nights, too.”

  “Glad to hear it.” His smile lit up her insides before he rolled away and sat up on the edge of the king-size mattress. The wound in his side seemed to slow him down, but a sound never left his mouth. Always trying to stay in control, dependable, strong. To pretend the pain didn’t get to him. “You should go back to sleep. I need to check in with my division. I’ll see if there are any developments from the courthouse or Harvey Braddock’s property and check the security system.”

  She had experience with the need to soldier on, no matter the circumstances. Then she’d been thrown over a bridge because her abductor had wanted her gone from behind the prosecution’s table in the Rip City Bomber trial. Curling her battered fingers into fists, she closed her eyes against the onslaught of panic and fear clawing up her throat. Light green eyes flashed to the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t recognized her attacker. Not his build. Not his voice. Not the pieces of his face she’d caught glimpses of as she’d struggled to get free of his grip on that bridge. “Police haven’t found a body, have they?”

  “Search and Rescue took their canines along the trail to see if they could pick up a scent, but no. No body.” He looked at her from over his shoulder but didn’t fully face her. “I’ve got all available officers looking to find him, but with the power of the falls, I’m not sure they ever will.”

  “Were the tech guys able to trace the phone I used to send the message to my tablet?” If they could trace it back to the seller, that might lead them to wherever the man in the mask had purchased it. They might recover security footage.

  “It was a burner, one serial number off from the phone used to take credit for the bombing at the courthouse. Purchased at the same time from the same seller, but when PPB investigated, they found out the security footage hadn’t worked for months.” Finally, Jonah turned, nothing but guilt and regret contorting his features. “I’m sorry, Maddi. I gave you my word I’d protect you, and when it counted the most, I wasn’t there. I left you with Cove because I thought he’d keep you safe, but I should’ve been there. I should’ve...”

  Her stomach clenched. Lifting herself onto her knees, she crawled across the bed. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her heart against his back. “Jonah, what happened at Harvey Braddock’s house wasn’t your fault. You know that. Whoever’s behind these bombings, whoever is trying to kill me, has planned every step of this mind game in advance. We’re just the pawns.”

  “You’re right. We are just pawns.” Jonah lowered his mouth to her arm, planting a soft kiss to her oversensitized skin. He turned into her, and she sat back on her heels. Determination chased back the agony in his expression. “We need to talk to the queen.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jonah had been working this entire investigation with one arm tied behind his back. The bar door ahead of him slid back with a hard thrust as an overhead buzzer alerted the guards of movement. Shiny white tile reflected his and Madison’s outlines and the fluorescent lights from above back up to him as they were escorted by the prison’s warden into the cell block corridor.

  “She’s been waiting for you.” The warden, the most no-nonsense woman he’d ever met, cast her gaze into each cell as they passed. “Said you’d come crawling to her sooner or later.”

  “Then she’s as delusional as I thought.” Women of varying ages, hair colors and rap sheets all wore the same bright orange uniform assigned to them after they’d been sentenced. One by one, Jonah walked past the cells, haunted gazes and violence in the inmates’ expressions, and he had to battle the urge to reach for Madison.

  She didn’t need him to fight her battles. She’d gone up against plenty of monsters in court and come out on the other side stronger and more determined, and right then, he couldn’t afford to let his emotions get in the way of keeping her alive. Not when they were about to interrogate a serial bomber who’d been keeping secrets to herself.

  The warden paused outside a thick steel door with a slice of window cut into the middle. Through the double-paned glass, a monster stared back from the table in the center of the room. “She’s handcuffed to the table, but don’t underestimate her. Rosalind Eyler is one of the most dangerous inmates I’ve ever had the displeasure of holding in my prison. She’s under twenty-four-hour surveillance by a guard at all times. When you’re done, let him know.”

  “Twenty-four-hour watc
hes are for inmates who’ve tried to escape.” Jonah’s fingers tingled for his weapon, but jail policy had forced him to leave it at the gate.

  “If I know anything about Rosalind Eyler, she’s been looking forward to this conversation as much as we have.” Madison nodded and pulled her shoulders back, accentuating the line of her fresh maternity dress. “Open the door.”

  The warden signaled to the watch commander.

  The buzzer echoed down the corridor once again, and the heavy steel door swung wide. Madison stepped inside first, Jonah right behind her, and they moved toward the table in the center of the bare concrete room.

  “I was wondering how many people had to die before you came to see me. What is the body count up to now? Eight or nine?” The Rip City Bomber accentuated the laugh lines etched into the sides of her mouth with a close-lipped smile as Jonah slid the chair out for Madison, then took his own seat. “Always the gentleman, isn’t he, Madison? Probably puts your needs before his own. Nothing like the men who plagiarized my research to advance their careers.”

  “You know we’re not here to talk about Marshal Watson, Rosalind.” Madison set her tablet between her and the bomber and swiped through the crime scene photos the bomb squad had taken of the courthouse, Madison’s destroyed vehicle and Harvey Braddock’s home. “I want to talk about the bomber who has taken credit for three bombings in the Rip City Bomber’s name. Do you recognize his work?”

  The smile vanished. The corner of Rosalind’s left eye twitched slightly, something Jonah would’ve missed completely if he hadn’t been looking for it, and he fought to keep himself from smiling. Rosalind Eyler wasn’t happy the spotlight had shifted from her. The Rip City Bomber locked deep green eyes on him, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This woman had been responsible for the death of thirty-two victims in the last year, and there wasn’t a hint of remorse in her expression. She wasn’t just a bomber. She’d become a serial killer. “Do you know what the best part of being caught has been, Marshal Watson? Getting to relive every detail of what I did to my colleagues during the trial. It takes a lot to surprise the cops and investigators, but the families? I could live off seeing their pain for the rest of my life.”

  Rage coiled hot and bubbling in his gut. Rosalind Eyler wouldn’t help them. She’d just wanted an audience. Jonah pushed back in his chair and focused on Madison. “We’re done here.”

  “I think you’re right.” The deputy district attorney gathered her tablet from the table and stood to follow his retreat. They’d made it halfway across the room before another word left the inmate’s mouth.

  “Wait.” Rosalind’s voice spiraled tension down his spine.

  Jonah and Madison turned in tandem to face the Rip City Bomber. Waiting.

  “Show me the photos of the device from the courthouse.” Rosalind leaned back in her chair as far as she could with her wrists cuffed to the table in front of her, her bright red hair nearly blending in with the red of her uniform. “I promise to behave.”

  He nodded to Madison, and they made their way back to the table. Retaking her seat, Madison scrolled through the photos sent from the bomb squad showing off the key components collected into evidence. Bits and pieces of the explosive charge, the switch, fuse, container and the power source draped against a light blue cloth. Jonah recognized each component for what it was, but the process in which individual bombers built their creations was unique. “The first two devices were remotely triggered to detonate with a cell phone using ammonium nitrate as the charge. The same setup you used in the four bombs you set off a few months ago. The third utilized thermite and ammonium nitrate to try to convince us Harvey Braddock is involved when it exploded on his property.”

  “You’re right, Marshal Watson.” Those empty green eyes studied the photo on the screen. “Whoever took credit for this device certainly has done their homework, but they missed one vital piece of the puzzle. I made all of my ammonium nitrate from scratch in my lab, and from the looks of it your bomber went straight to an ice pack.”

  No concern for Harvey Braddock. Interesting.

  “An ice pack?” Madison asked.

  “Cold packs are designed with two bags inside, one with ammonium nitrate and the other with water. When you break them open, the two bags mix and cause an endothermic reaction that absorbs heat.” Jonah kept his gaze on the killer in front of him. The slight difference in the explosive charge wasn’t nothing, but it wasn’t the information he’d hoped to learn from the Rip City Bomber either. “We were able to trace the ammonium nitrate Rosalind used in her bombs to her lab because she’d made it herself. Whereas, an ice pack purchase is impossible to trace.”

  “Unless you know where to look.” Rosalind cut her attention to Madison.

  His instincts kicked in, and Jonah leaned forward to set his elbows on the table. What the hell did that mean? “You know who’s behind these attacks.”

  Rosalind did the same, leaning across the table. The smile was back as the Rip City Bomber slid her gaze to Jonah. “Have you two picked a name already?”

  Jonah didn’t answer. He wasn’t giving this psychopath an ounce of personal information, no matter what she thought she knew about him or Madison. He was here for information about the bomber who’d abducted the woman beside him. Not to play games. “How did the bomber know what components you used in your devices? That information wasn’t made public.”

  “You’re still not sure how you feel about him.” Rosalind spoke to Madison as pressure built behind Jonah’s sternum. Fluorescent lighting darkened the freckles clustered around her nose and forehead. “You worked so hard to get where you are, all without the help of the people who were supposed to care about you. I bet it’s hard to forget all the pain and isolation from your childhood, even harder to let someone get close again. After all, he could be like your father.”

  Stiffness knotted at the base of Jonah’s spine.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The muscles along Madison’s jawline ticked every few seconds, her voice dropping to a whisper. Her fingers tightened around the tablet pencil in her hand, her knuckles white.

  “Don’t I?” Rosalind’s eyes grew distant. The chains around her ankles dragged softly against the cement. “You and I aren’t so different, Deputy District Attorney. We’re both high achievers determined to rise above our circumstances. You in law, me in science. Our entire lives, men have used and abused us for their own gain. My father used me the same as yours used you, and now we’re each having to deal with the effects of that trauma by relying only on ourselves. By shutting everyone out who could be a threat to our independence. The only difference is that I had the courage to make sure no one ever took advantage of me again when I killed my colleagues in those explosions. Can you say the same?”

  Madison didn’t answer.

  Jonah’s hands shook beneath the table. Rosalind Eyler was nothing like the woman sitting next to him. For every innocent life the Rip City Bomber had taken, Madison had saved lives one hundred times over by putting criminals like Rosalind behind bars. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. How did the bomber know what components you used in your devices?”

  Slowly, Rosalind slid her wrists to one side of the table. Her long-drawn-out inhale filled his ears. “Because I told them. It’s a shame he couldn’t follow simple instructions, though. If he’d angled the device toward the courtroom instead of the outside wall as I’d told him, he’d have gotten exactly what he wanted and so would I.”

  “What you wanted?” Confusion rippled through him as he studied the woman sitting across from them. They hadn’t been able to make a physical connection between the bomber and Rosalind Eyler, but his instincts had proved to be right. The Rip City Bomber knew who’d triggered the explosion at the courthouse and Harvey Braddock’s home, who’d tried to kill the mother of his unborn child. Heat flared up his neck and into his face. His vo
ice dipped into dangerous territory. “You made a deal with the bomber before the preliminary hearing. Who is it?”

  “Oh, no, Marshal Watson. We’re not even close to finishing this game.” The bomber sat up straight, an injection of lightness and humor slipping across her expression. The handcuffs at her wrists and ankles knocked against the steel table. “I’ve got a lot of years ahead of me here, and I quite like the company, but I was willing to make a deal with him so I’ll make one with you.”

  “What kind of deal?” Madison asked.

  “I’ll tell you the location of your bomber’s lab—” Rosalind Eyler smiled again “—if you publicly reduce the charges against me.”

  * * *

  FRESH AIR HIT HER square in the chest as Madison stepped out of the SUV in front of Jonah’s cabin. She worked to purge the last thirty minutes from her pores, but her mind kept spinning. What the hell had happened in that room? They’d come to the prison to get answers, but she and Jonah had left with only more questions than when they’d started. Rosalind Eyler had given the courthouse bomber the exact components she’d used in four previous devices around Portland and had made some kind of deal with him before the device had been triggered. All for her to give up his laboratory’s location to investigators in the end?

  It didn’t make sense.

  There were still pieces missing from this puzzle, and something deep inside warned Madison it’d be too late before she understood the big picture. She combed her hair back away from her face. Her boot heels sank deep into soft earth as she headed toward the front door. “This is all just a game for her. Rosalind Eyler’s not giving up the laboratory’s location out of the goodness of her heart. She knows she’s looking at spending the rest of her life behind bars, and she wants to cause as much chaos as possible before we shove her in a dark corner and forget her name.”