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The Protector's Mission
Margaret Daley


DEADLY EXPLOSIONLydia McKenzie is the only living witness to a serial bomber's latest threat. Surviving the explosion at the café, Lydia is rescued by police sergeant Jesse Hunt and his K-9 partner, a Rottweiler named Brutus. She's struggling to remember details of the incident. But one thing she'll never forget is how she once felt about Jesse–the high school sweetheart she left to marry another. In charge of her protection, the guarded cop believes the bomber's after her, and he promises to keep her safe. But as more of Lydia's memories return, the more the vicious killer wants her dead.Alaskan Search and Rescue: Risking their lives to save the day







DEADLY EXPLOSION

Lydia McKenzie is the only living witness to a serial bomber’s latest threat. Surviving the explosion at the café, Lydia is rescued by police sergeant Jesse Hunt and his K-9 partner, a Rottweiler named Brutus. She’s struggling to remember details of the incident. But one thing she’ll never forget is how she once felt about Jesse—the high school sweetheart she left to marry another. In charge of her protection, the guarded cop believes the bomber’s after her, and he promises to keep her safe. But as more of Lydia’s memories return, the more the vicious killer wants her dead.

Alaskan Search and Rescue: Risking their lives to save the day


“You think I might be in danger?” Lydia asked.

Jesse kept his gaze on the road as he drove her home. “I hope not, but it’s a possibility if the bomber thinks you can ID him.”

“I can’t. Yet. But what if I did see him and I can’t remember?”

“You suffered a head trauma,” he reminded her. “Not remembering, especially right away, isn’t uncommon. Don’t force yourself.”

“Are you sure you work for the police? I would have thought you’d have wanted me to remember right now.”

“I know you. Force won’t work.” He threw her half a grin.

“I’ve been trying, and I can remember a few bits, like how I felt when I heard the laugh track. After that, nothing much else. Lunch was starting,” she said, shifting toward him. “I just thought of that.”

He glanced at her smile, which lit her whole face. “See? It will come.”

Jesse pulled into her driveway, the same house he had picked her up at as a teenager. A memory flashed into his mind—of eons ago when he was a different person.


MARGARET DALEY, an award-winning author of ninety books (five million sold worldwide), has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in romance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread, and corralling her three cats, who think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret, visit her website at margaretdaley.com (http://margaretdaley.com/).


The Protector’s

Mission

Margaret Daley






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

—Psalms 46:1


To Mike, Shaun, Abbey and Aubrey


Contents

Cover (#u23f1cf3e-8899-57e6-91ea-50eebc87fe2c)

Back Cover Text (#u1875f258-d6db-5eee-b492-59efa22abf75)

Introduction (#u12ed0dad-13f6-58ec-bb42-6274e6ae2100)

About the Author (#u2ce76049-4cf5-5a78-acd1-989d6addf986)

Title Page (#u008dff6a-95b7-58cb-b3b3-4e6ab5ac0ae5)

Bible Verse (#ua50b470e-a458-5e35-bc4c-5645949f6fd6)

Dedication (#u968dedca-30a8-5be2-92fa-88c0db298fac)

ONE (#ulink_358ad298-d23c-5284-b5a5-cc489838507e)

TWO (#ulink_f5f367a3-e0b7-59ff-8bb7-d039950d7c6b)

THREE (#ulink_e44846df-1251-5292-ae8a-ba2dca18eabb)

FOUR (#ulink_1f306531-98e1-5c78-ab06-797e3c0b6374)

FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ulink_a61e776e-7760-5729-8d28-16c242af3e45)

Lydia McKenzie swung open the door to Melinda’s Bistro and plowed right into a middle-aged man wearing a navy blue hoodie that shrouded his gray eyes and the scar slashing his cheek. “Sorry.”

The guy, holding one of the restaurant take-out sacks, mumbled something and scurried away.

Lydia spied Bree Stone, a doctor and friend from childhood, and headed toward her table. “Sorry I’m late. Had an emergency at work. I hope you got my text.” After several hours in surgery at the veterinary hospital, Lydia finally eased into a chair and relaxed.

“I certainly know what an emergency is. We’re a doctor short at the hospital, so I’m taking an extra shift to fill in.” Bree gathered her purse and put money on the table to pay her tab. “What kind of emergency?”

“It involved one of the rescue dogs from the bombing at the church. A police K-9.” Right now she could use a neck and shoulder massage. Pain radiated down her back. “A few days ago, I tended to two rescue dogs that had been injured while searching for survivors at the church, but one of them took a turn for the worse this morning. I had to remove his left hind leg in order to save him. The decision broke my heart because it ends his career, but he’ll live.”

Bree started to rise but sat back down. “Jesse Hunt’s Brutus?”

The mention of Jesse made Lydia’s breath catch. She tried to avoid seeing him as much as possible, which was hard since she worked with Northern Frontier Search and Rescue and went to SAR sites to be there if a dog needed medical help. Jesse was often there with his Rottweiler. “No, Officer Nichols with the Anchorage K-9 Unit. He sometimes works with your husband at search and rescue sites.”

“Yes, Nichols was brought into the ER last Friday. David was upset. He came to the hospital as soon as he could to see how he was.”

“How’s he doing?” Lydia shook the image of Jesse Hunt, once a friend, from her mind. When she returned to Anchorage last year, she renewed several friendships, but not with Jesse, whom she’d betrayed right after she’d graduated from high school.

“He’s still on the critical list. His accident shows me how dangerous my husband’s job is, but David wouldn’t do anything else.” Bree rose. “I wish I could stay. But I have to be in early because the other doctor is sick.”

“We’ll catch up later.” Lydia rolled her shoulders and released a long breath.

Bree smiled. “When we both slow down. Tell Kate hi for me. She’s been asking me about being a doctor.”

“She has?” She should know that, but she and her seventeen-year-old sister had clashed a lot since she’d become her guardian last year.

“Yes, she doesn’t think she can work with animals like you and your dad, but she’s interested in the medical field. See you.”

Lydia watched Bree weave through the tables starting to fill up with people coming in for an early lunch. She scanned the bistro, trying to decide whether to stay and eat or order and take it back to the Aurora Animal Hospital down the street, the veterinary practice she inherited from her father when he died last year. They treated large and small animals as well as the Northern Frontier SAR dogs and the K-9s that worked with the police.

Her gaze settled on Melinda, the owner of the restaurant, talking to a man with dark brown hair sticking out of a black ball cap. The guy took Melinda’s hand and moved closer. Was this Todd, the boyfriend she’d been telling Lydia about this past month?

Lydia started to look away to give them some privacy when she spied the man lean toward Melinda, a furious expression on his face. Melinda jerked her hand from his grasp, and the guy pivoted and stormed away, passing Lydia’s table.

She averted her look toward a man and a young woman sitting at the table next to her. She knew the guy. He worked at the drugstore—

“Sorry you saw that, Lydia.”

She looked up at Melinda. “I’m the one sorry for staring. Are you all right?”

The bistro owner waved her hand. “Boyfriend problems. He isn’t too happy with me at the moment.” Melinda slipped into the chair next to Lydia. “How have you been?”

“Tired. I had to operate on one of the K-9 dogs that was hurt at the church bomb site. It’s been all over the news.”

“That’s what everyone’s been talking about. Two bombings close together.”

Lydia shivered when she thought about the pictures she’d seen on the news. “I know some police officers, and they’re working overtime.”

“Yeah, I heard there’s no connection between the hardware store and the church, but they were only ten days apart. Do you think it’s the same person? Have you heard if it’s the same MO?”

“It sounds like it. Both times there was a laugh track that sounded seconds before the bomb went off.”

“What a sick person!” Melinda rose. “Are you going to eat lunch here or order takeout since Bree left?”

“Takeout. The veggie wrap.”

“It shouldn’t take too long.” Melinda headed for the kitchen in the back.

Glad to be sitting for a few minutes, Lydia glanced at the different people coming into the bistro. Some she recognized because they were regulars, like herself, but a couple were new to her—a young, petite woman with an older gentleman, a young man with long brown hair and a bald man about thirty-five or forty. She loved to people watch. She’d once considered being a writer, but her love of animals clinched her decision to be a vet and follow in her father’s footsteps. She’d hoped that decision would reconcile them. It hadn’t.

Before Melinda brought her takeout, she made her way down a long hallway to the restroom. A man slipped out the exit door at the end of the corridor. Odd, it wasn’t used much.

A few minutes later as she came out of the woman’s bathroom and paused, she panned the dining area, pleased to see the restaurant doing so well. But one of the new customers had left. Maybe the bistro didn’t serve what he wanted. She noticed Melinda carrying a takeout bag toward the table where she’d been sitting.

But before Lydia moved forward, a blast of maniacal-sounding laughter resonated through the restaurant. Melinda dropped the sack, a look of horror on her face. Lydia took only two steps back into the hallway before her world exploded.

* * *

Sergeant Jesse Hunt took Brutus out of the back of his SUV, secured his leash and walked toward the rubble of the church he attended. One person still remained missing and two were found dead in the bombing last Wednesday. He was on duty and had only stopped by to see David Stone, the head of Northern Frontier SAR, at the bombing site to assess it after the two people were hurt searching it Friday.

“Have they stabilized the structure?” Jesse asked as he approached David.

His friend turned toward him, a grim expression on his face. “Yes, this morning. At least this time I hope nothing else happens. I don’t want any more people hurt, but we need to check thoroughly for the one missing.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen people found days later and I heard of someone who lasted a week in the wreckage. That’s why I’m here. I can help later after my shift.”

“Good. It’s nice that late August still gives us long days.”

“Is Pastor Paul around?”

“No, he went to a parishioner’s house. They’re making plans for holding a church service here on Sunday.”

“That sounds like him. Someone bombing his church isn’t going to stop him from having worship services.” Jesse surveyed the large mounds of debris, noting some were marked already searched. His church had been large and thriving. At first the authorities wondered if it had been a crime associated with religion, but as they investigated they discovered too many links to the hardware store destroyed a week and a half before the church. The establishments weren’t connected, but the way the bombings were carried out indicated the same person or persons did both, down to the type of bomb, detonated with a timer and the sound of a laugh track.

“At the hardware store there weren’t any deaths or injuries, but you and I know the two who died here.”

“And the one missing.” Jesse’s cell phone rang. As he answered the call, he saw it was his commander. “Hunt here.”

“There’s been a third bombing at Melinda’s Bistro, down the street from the Aurora Animal Hospital.”

“I know the place. Brutus and I are on our way.” Jesse hung up as David received a call, no doubt about the new bombing.

Jesse waved at David, then jogged with Brutus toward his SUV. Settled in his car, he switched on his engine and sirens. Fifteen minutes later he parked his car with other police cruisers and hurried toward the crime scene. The whole street was blocked off. So far, if this was the same MO, there had been only one bomb going off, but this bomber was escalating with each site, the amount of time between each bombing and from the look of the site the size of the bomb. Melinda’s Bistro would have just started serving lunch, which meant probably more deaths than the previous one. Did the killer take it even further with the addition of another bomb?

When he arrived at the command post, he assessed the destruction up close. A shudder snaked through him. A cloud of dust hung in the still air where the restaurant had once been, a two-story building brought to the ground, except for one small area where the top floor remained, but heavily damaged. Cries floated to him, some from within the massive debris of concrete, wood and brick.

His gut knotted, and his determination to catch the perpetrator intensified. He’d ask Thomas Caldwell, the detective overseeing the first two bombings, if he could be on the task force the department was forming. He searched the police officers, found his longtime friend and headed straight for him.

“When can we start searching for survivors?” Jesse asked. The site had to be stabilized first to protect everyone, including the survivors.

Thomas shifted his attention to Jesse, his shoulders slumped as though he’d been up forty-eight hours, which was possible. A scowl carved deep lines into Thomas’s face. “As soon as we get the okay that it’s safe. Until then I could use you and Brutus to check for any other bombs in the area.”

“Will do, and I want on the task force you’re heading.”

“I already put your name down. You were at the top of the list. I have two other K-9 officers searching this side of the street. One that way. The other opposite.” Thomas pointed toward the buildings flanking Melinda’s Bistro. “But if the bomber is getting more violent, it won’t be long before we start seeing multiple bombs. All the shops have been evacuated, necessary personnel only, so be on the lookout for looters.”

Jesse started at one end of the street and investigated anything that remotely looked suspicious. Most of the buildings’ windows were blown out, and the structures suffered minor damage. He was acquainted with Melinda and most likely she had been in her bistro. Would there be any survivors? From what was left of the restaurant, he didn’t have high hopes for anyone, even after hearing the faint cries.

At the other end of the street, he saw Bree Stone admitted into the blocked off area. She had some medical personnel with her. He detoured to meet her in the middle of the street. “Are you setting up a medical tent?”

“Yes. Have you heard of any survivors? I haven’t been told anything.”

“They’re stabilizing the site and making sure there aren’t any other bombs. As you can tell, it’s pretty chaotic.”

“David is coming.”

“I know. I was with him when we both got the call.”

Bree chewed on her bottom lip. “I was in that restaurant ten minutes before the bomb went off. I had to get back to work, but one of my friends was still there.”

“Have you checked to see where she is?”

“Yes, and she hasn’t returned to the animal hospital.” Bree studied him. “You two dated in high school, if I remember correctly. Lydia McKenzie.”

Lydia McKenzie. Jesse could feel the color drain from his face. His heartbeat slowed to a throb, and his breathing became labored. He thought if he kept his distance, even when they both were at the same SAR site, he’d be all right. He’d thought they would marry after high school. When she’d eloped with Aaron, one of his good friends, he had locked away the unbearable pain of rejection. Until she’d returned to Anchorage last year. Then the lid had lifted on that pain and leaked out.

“You need to report that. Thomas is over there.” Jesse waved toward his friend, then before he said something he’d regret about Lydia, he rotated away and said, “I still have one more building to inspect.”

With Brutus by his side, he hastened toward the last store. As his Rottweiler sniffed around, Jesse examined the clothing store, the large plate window gone in front. Through the opening, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye in the appliance shop next door. He pulled on Brutus’s leash and headed for the place. As he peered inside, he glimpsed a door closing at the rear.

He entered the appliance store with Brutus and unsnapped his leash. “Check it.”

While his K-9 moved around the large open space, Jesse removed his gun and strode toward the back exit. When he opened the door, he spied a black Chevy driving out of the parking lot. He took down the part of the license number not covered by mud. All employees, shop owners and customers were evacuated an hour ago, so why did this guy stay behind?

Going back inside, he did his own search of the premise while Brutus finished. Nothing. That was a good sign, but a troublesome feeling about the man who left nagged at him. He headed back toward Thomas who was talking with David in low tones.

Thomas wore his deadpan expression that didn’t give anything away if reporters were watching. “So far we think at least twelve people were inside. I imagine more names will come in as people wonder where someone is. We have four employees and eight customers we know of at this time. We have been given the go-ahead to search the left side of the building.”

Jesse and Brutus started for that area, the one where the second floor had crashed down on the first one. There was little to shore up, and it was probably where the bomb originated as well as where most of the casualties would be.

The thought of finding Lydia dead soured his stomach. He might be angry with her, but he prayed to the Lord she was alive somewhere in the rubble.

* * *

Lydia tried to drag deep breaths into her lungs, but the effort sent pain through her. Cracked or broken rib? She eased her eyes open to find debris all around her. Pinpoint streams of light filtered through the rubble.

A beam lay across her torso. Dust in the air caused her to sneeze and intensified the sharp constriction in her chest. The lack of oxygen and the pressure bearing down on her made her light-headed. Her eyelids slid close. She focused, as much as she could, on any sounds that indicated people were searching for survivors. Creaks and groans, as though the building were protesting its destruction, surrounded her, but she couldn’t hear any voices.

She tried to move her legs. She couldn’t do more than wiggle her toe, which meant she wasn’t paralyzed. One arm was pinned against her side, the other free. She pushed on the beam, but it wouldn’t budge. The effort drained what strength she had. She stopped and concentrated on filling her lungs with at least shallow breaths.

Then thoughts began to invade her mind. Who would take care of her seventeen-year-old sister? She came back to Anchorage for Kate. When their father died in a climbing accident, Lydia finally returned for the funeral, not intending to stay except to settle her dad’s affairs and move her sister back to Oklahoma where Lydia lived. None of her plans had worked out. Kate refused to leave her friends, and Lydia discovered her father left her his practice and part of the animal hospital.

Then Bree showed up to help her deal with her father’s death. They had been close friends in school, and suddenly she felt as though fifteen years had vanished, and their relationship took off where it had stopped when she’d left Anchorage to elope with Aaron.

Why did You bring me back, God, only to have this happen? I was beginning to settle in again and forget why I’d left all those years ago. She’d even started to contemplate staying after Kate graduated from high school. She’d tried to hold on to her faith, but so many things happened. And now this. She didn’t know what to do anymore.

Then there was Jesse, her first love. They had dated for over a year but broke up their senior year at Christmas. She’d started dating Aaron, which in retrospect was a rebound. She’d been trying to forget Jesse and made a big mistake that affected her even today. She and Aaron broke up after a few months and she and Jesse reunited—more in love than ever. But when she discovered she was pregnant with Aaron’s baby, everything changed. Jesse had been devastated when she left without telling him why. Aaron’s dad and her father had insisted they get married and keep the child a secret. Aaron’s dad was a prominent citizen and her father was an elder in his church. She was to accompany Aaron to Stillwater where he was going to attend Oklahoma State University. As long as they did as they said, Aaron would have money to support them and his education paid for. The memories of those years married to Aaron chilled her. She’d never been so alone in her life.

What good was it to look back? It was too late to change anything. She didn’t even know if the rescuers would find her.

Her head pounded like a jackhammer. With her free hand, she touched her hair and came away with bloody fingers. A darkness tugged at her. It offered comfort and peace.

Through the haze that clouded her mind, a noise penetrated her thoughts. A bark. Then another. The rescuers had found someone. Hope flared until another sound drowned out all others. A crash—something collapsing?

* * *

Brutus barked and wagged his tail. He found someone. As part of the second floor fell to the ground in the section not stabilized yet, Jesse headed for his Rottweiler. He reached the spot and caught a glimpse of something blue under the debris.

“Over here,” Jesse shouted, and several rescuers without dogs climbed through the remains of the structure.

Jesse knelt by Brutus and tried to see through the rubbish. He glimpsed some more blue and began removing bricks and wood, praying the person—maybe Lydia—was alive beneath them. Jesse knew that time was against the trapped people. If they were alive and injured, their wounds could eventually lead to their death if help didn’t get to them.

“I’m here,” he heard faintly from below. Or was he imagining a voice that sounded like Lydia’s?

“Lydia?” Jesse kept removing bricks.

“Yes. A beam is on me.” The familiar voice grew a little stronger.

“This is Jesse. We’re going to get you out.”

“I need air, and it’s getting dark.”

“Okay. Let me see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Jesse. I knew I could count on you.” The last part of the sentence ended with a racking cough.

“Lydia, are you all right?”

“O—kay. So cold.”

“You’ll be out in no time.” He worked as fast as he could. “Are you still all right?”

Nothing. His gut clenched.

“Get that air and camera over here,” he shouted while David and Thomas hurried with his request. “Lydia is alive.” He refused to acknowledge the possibility that she had died—just moments from being rescued.

He searched the debris until he found what he hoped was a hole that led to where Lydia was. He snatched the air tank and shoved the hose through the opening. Please, God, keep her alive. We’ve already lost too many. He said that over and over as he pushed the camera with a light down into another small crack. It was in moments like this that all he could do was believe the Lord was taking over.


TWO (#ulink_8df3f1c4-0861-541d-be3d-7e650dad204f)

Lydia blinked her eyes open. In the dim light, she saw the hose to the left of her. The air seemed fresher, although she still couldn’t breathe too deeply without a shooting pain knifing through her.

She went in and out of consciousness to the noise of people removing the building on top of her. The sound of voices fueled her hope. Memories of that time she’d gotten lost in a cave swamped her—the fear of the dark, of being alone. She shivered. Then she remembered when she’d first seen Jesse with a flashlight, coming to her rescue. She’d rushed into his arms and wouldn’t let him go until he’d pulled back, stared at her for a long moment and then kissed her for the first time.

What happened to that puppy love? She’d only been seventeen—Kate’s age—but she’d never felt so close to another as in that moment.

Her eyelids were so heavy, like the beam across her torso. She closed them again, trying to think of a warm place. Every part of her was cold, as though she’d been in a refrigerator for hours, dressed in her scrubs. She hadn’t even changed out of them when she’d gone to meet Bree. At least she wasn’t there with her.

But the others...what of them?

Again she began to drift off.

Hold on, Lydia.

Did someone say that? Jesse?

A rush of cool air brushed over her. She looked up and saw Jesse’s smiling face.

“She’s alive.” His grin grew. “Don’t move. We’ll get you out of there.”

“I know,” she whispered, her throat so dry she doubted Jesse could hear her.

When the rescuers finally reached her, all she could do was peer at Jesse as though she were back in the cave and he alone had come to save her. His almost-black hair was covered with a helmet. Dust and dirt coated him. He was more muscular and taller than when they’d been teenagers. When he and Thomas hoisted the beam from her, it seemed so easy for him while she couldn’t budge it an inch.

Jesse’s golden-brown gaze fastened on hers. Lines at the sides of his eyes deepened. “We’ve almost got you out, then Bree will check you before we move you. Do you want some water?” His voice held a tender note, as though he cared.

But she knew better. Since she’d returned to Anchorage they had spoken few words, only when necessary because of a search and rescue or Brutus, who she treated as the department veterinarian. “Yes” squeaked out of her mouth.

He couldn’t prop her up to drink until Bree said it was okay to move her, but he did squirt some cold water into her mouth.

Nothing tasted better. She swallowed. “Again.”

When Bree appeared next to her, she tried to hide the worry in her eyes, but Lydia knew Bree.

“I’m okay,” Lydia murmured, her voice stronger now. “Get me out of this hole, and I’ll be good as new in no time.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Bree ran her hands over Lydia, especially examining the wound on her head, then put a neck brace on her. “She’s okay to be lifted but be careful. Slow and easy. No jarring.”

“Honey, stop telling us our job. We’ve done this before,” David said from above, ready to take Lydia when Thomas and Jesse hoisted her up.

Jesse positioned himself at her head while Thomas was at her feet. “On the count of three.”

Bree stabilized her midsection as Lydia was brought up out of the hole.

Sunlight bathed Lydia. She was put on a stretcher and carried from the rubble. The last sight she saw was Jesse’s handsome face—but he wasn’t smiling. Worry knitted his forehead.

Lydia gave in to the black swirling abyss beckoning her.

* * *

Lydia heard an annoying beep. Pain quickly followed, radiating from her head and chest. She moaned and lifted her eyelids halfway. A hospital room greeted her, and she remembered why she was here and hurting. She’d been in and out of consciousness since an emergency surgery to have her spleen repaired.

She wondered where her sister and Bree went. Earlier they’d been in here. Probably to grab something to eat. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Kate while she was in the hospital. She’d stay with Bree and David until Lydia was released, which she hoped was soon.

Lydia closed her eyes and tried to relax. But the second she did, visions of the bombing assailed her mind. The sound of hideous laughter right before the bomb went off. The expression on Melinda’s face when she knew what was going to happen. Was she alive? The feeling of helplessness she experienced trapped under the building debris. Her heartbeat began to race. A cold clamminess blanketed her, much like when she’d been trapped.

The swish of her hospital room door opening pulled her away from the memories. Kate returning? She needed to have a few moments with her sister. When Lydia fastened her gaze on the person who entered, her pulse rate sped faster. Jesse Hunt. She wasn’t prepared to see him.

He looked like he’d come straight from the crime scene. As a search and rescue worker for Northern Frontier, he’d probably work as long as he could function. The only time he’d rest was when Brutus needed to.

So why is he here?

He stopped at the end of the bed. “Bree told me you’d been awake earlier and coherent after your surgery, so I took a chance and came to talk to you.”

His stiff stance and white-knuckled hands on the railing betrayed his nervousness, but his tone told her he was here in his professional capacity. Saddened by that thought, Lydia said, “Thank you for finding me.”

“I was doing my job yesterday.”

“Knowing the people who would be searching kept my hope alive. Have you found everyone?”

“We don’t know for sure. Names of missing people are still coming in. I was hoping you could tell me how many people were in the restaurant when the bomb exploded.”

“I’m not sure. Let me think.” As much as she didn’t want to, she tried to visualize the moments before the explosion. “Melinda, and I remember seeing another waitress. I don’t know how many cooks she had in the kitchen. They’re always in the back.”

“How about customers?”

She had to think. She didn’t want this person to get away with what he’d done. She fought the weariness that kept edging forward. “People were coming in and out. Some ordered takeout for lunch and didn’t stay long. I came out of the restroom, saw Melinda seconds before the laugh track played. I’d estimate maybe nine besides me. Most of them were regulars.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know their names. I just see them there a lot. I go get lunch there once or twice a week...” The thought that the bistro was totally gone inundated her. She dropped her gaze to her lap, her hands quivering. She balled them, but that didn’t stop the trembling sweeping through her body.

“If I bring you photos, could you tell me if they were there?”

Emotions crammed her throat. She turned for her water on the bedside table, but it was too far away without leaning for it. She started to and winced from the movement.

Jesse was at her side, grabbing the plastic cup and offering it to her.

She took it, their fingers brushing, and she nearly splashed the water all over her with her shaking.

Jesse covered her hand and steadied her drink, then guided it to her mouth. The feel of his fingers against hers for more than a second jolted her. “I know this isn’t something you want to talk about, but we want to recover all the bodies as quickly as possible.”

“Bodies? Did anyone else survive?”

“A waitress and two cooks. We found them in the kitchen area, the waitress just inside the entrance while the cooks were across the room.”

She didn’t want to ask but she needed to know. “Did Melinda survive?”

“No, we ID’d her body. So far we’ve recovered eight bodies, including Melinda. Four people are missing, according to their families, but we haven’t found them yet. The bomb squad thinks the bomb originated in the dining area where the customers were. They’ll know more when the bomb fragments are all found.”

“Eight dead.” How did she survive when the others didn’t? “I was in the hallway to the bathrooms when it went off, not in the main dining room. Do you think that protected me some?”

“Possibly. Do you know where the laughing sound came from?”

“Not sure.” She closed her eyes and tried to think back to that time. Nothing. She massaged her temple, forcing herself to dig deeper beyond the pain throbbing against her skull. “I don’t think from behind me. When I heard the laughter—” she shuddered “—I took two steps back. Then everything went blank.”

Jesse put the cup on the bedside table. “I know this isn’t easy, but anything you can remember could help us piece together what happened. We’ve got to stop this man.”

“Nobody wants that more than me. I... I...” Tears blurred her vision. She couldn’t voice what she felt, not even to herself. She remembered coming to in recovery, and all she’d wanted to do was surrender to the darkness. Stay there. But that wouldn’t help. She’d learned long ago she couldn’t escape from the truth.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. I’m tired. I’m sure I’ll remember more later.” She hoped she could. She needed to. If no one in the dining area survived the bombing except her, she might know something that could help find the culprit. But at the moment her head felt as if it would explode.

“I understand. I’ll come back later.”

Was that sympathy in his voice? She looked up. His expression was neutral. When she’d first returned home last year, she’d tried to talk to him about what happened all those years ago. He’d shut her down. He never acted angry or upset around her although she’d wronged him. Instead, he’d been more like a stranger. Even as a teenager, he’d kept his feelings to himself. That was part of the reason they broke up that first time at Christmas, and she began dating Aaron.

She watched him leave. But hadn’t she done the same as him? When her mother left their family she’d shut off her emotions entirely. Even now she wouldn’t think about the woman who had abandoned her family. She couldn’t deal with that on top of everything else.

The emotions she’d kept checked while he was there gushed to the surface. Tears ran down her cheeks for the people who’d died, for her foolishness as a teenager, for the rift between her and her father and for the times she’d missed her mother so much it had hurt deeply. And now, she couldn’t even remember anything to help the police.

* * *

Later that day, Jesse loaded Brutus into his crate in the back of his SUV and left the bombing scene. His dog needed a lengthy break if he was going to work late into August’s twilight hours for the third straight day, searching the rubble for victims or clues to identify the type of bomb used. There were still two people unaccounted for, and he was going to pay another visit to both Lydia and the waitress who survived. Maybe one or both of them could tell him if the two missing people were at the restaurant. Thomas talked with the cooks, but they didn’t know anything because they always stayed in the kitchen.

He drove toward the hospital, the bright yellow sun splashed across the sky in all God’s glory. Life went on in spite of the tragedy that occurred yesterday. The death count with the bombings was climbing and so was the fear sweeping through the city. The mayor was demanding answers, and he’d gladly give him some if he had any.

The closest surveillance camera had been disabled before the bombing. The others didn’t have a good angle on the entrance to the restaurant. Even if they had there were two other ways for a person to leave Melinda’s Bistro—the back door where the kitchen was and the emergency exit down the hallway to the bathrooms. There were no cameras on those two places. In fact, each building targeted didn’t have a lot of security. The police were urging businesses to increase their security.

When he rode the elevator up to Lydia’s floor, he tried to prepare himself for seeing her again. He didn’t want to think about their past, but as he neared her hospital room, he experienced relief and...joy all over again, like when he heard her through the rubble. She’d been alive. After finding several dead bodies, he’d started to think no one would be alive.

He’d thanked God he found her. He’d never felt that kind of relief. And yet, he had to keep his distance. Too much happened between them when they were teenagers. He’d grown up in a good foster home, but early on when he bounced from one family to another, he learned to keep himself apart from others. He would have to rely on that ability now.

He couldn’t afford to be hurt by her again.

Pausing at the door, he lifted his hand to knock and froze. He couldn’t go inside. I’ve got a job to do. Get in. Get out.

He rapped his knuckles against the wood, heard Lydia respond and pushed the door open. He’d prefer to stay at the end of the bed, but he had to show her the photos. He’d have to stand next to her, only a couple of feet away.

When he entered, a neutral expression fell over her features. Her brown eyes held a guarded look. She’d been pretty as a teenager, a little gangly, but now fifteen years later, she was a tall beauty, nothing awkward as she moved. What he’d observed at search and rescues was a self-assured woman who was aware of herself at all times. That had changed over the years. What else?

“Is this a good time to talk?” Jesse asked, almost wishing she would say no.

“Yes. Bree and Kate went to lunch. They should be back soon.” Her voice, husky laden, was the same, and its sound renewed memories best forgotten. “I haven’t remembered anything new. I wish I could. Everything is fuzzy. Maybe it’s the meds they have me on.”

“That could be. But it also may be the trauma. The waitress doesn’t remember anything, either, but I wanted to show both of you the photos of the two people still missing and see if you can place them at the restaurant when the bomb went off.”

“I’ll try to help any way I can. I want this madman caught before others die.”

“On that, we agree.” But on so many other things, they hadn’t agreed on. Aaron had been a good friend, but Jesse had known Aaron wouldn’t be good for Lydia. Obviously she hadn’t felt that way. Even after they got back together in April, out of nowhere she left Anchorage with Aaron in June.

Jesse removed the two pictures from his shirt pocket. One was of a young woman and the other an older gentleman. He laid them on the tray table. “Does either one seem familiar to you?”

“Maybe the older gentleman. There was one that came into the bistro when I was there. The woman I didn’t see at all. I’d remember that red hair.”

A smile tugged at his mouth. He thought back to a time Lydia had dyed her long brown hair that color and it turned out more a neon orange than red, especially toward the ends. She’d fixed it the best she could by cutting her hair short, which was the way she wore it now.

She stared at him. “I know what you’re thinking. It turned out to be a good thing although I hated the stares I received those few days before I cut my hair. It’s easier to keep this way.” She combed her fingers through her strands.

“I tried to warn you.”

“That’s because you didn’t like redheads.”

“I liked you the way you were.” But she never understood that. She’d wanted to be constantly reassured how he felt, and feelings had never been easy for him to express.

She handed him the photos. “I wasn’t much help. I hope the waitress knows for sure. I’d hate for families not to know what happened to a loved one.”

“Like what happened to your father?”

“Yes, not knowing one way or another when he disappeared in the wilderness was nerve-racking. Kate and I felt in limbo. I understand you were one of the K-9 teams that went out searching.”

“Alex Witherspoon found your father at the bottom of the ravine.” Ten days after he went missing. “That’s one of the things David does. If we don’t find the person right away, we don’t give up. We keep going out until every possibility is covered.”

“Thankfully he died instantly and didn’t linger, injured and without food and water. But he shouldn’t have gone in the first place. It was stupid to go by himself, especially with Kate living at home.” Anger laced each word. “But then he never changed, even after Mom left us. He always did daredevil stunts, testing his limits with no regard for the family left behind.”

Jesse stuck the pictures in his uniform shirt pocket. Things were getting too personal. He didn’t want to go there. “Thanks for your help. I’ve got to show these to the waitress. If you do remember anything else, call Thomas. He’s lead detective on the case.”

Jesse left as quickly as he could. He’d almost told her to call him. That wouldn’t have been a wise decision on his part. He was on the Laughing Bomber Task Force, but he’d leave Thomas to deal with Lydia.

The waitress was hospitalized in another corridor on the same floor. When Jesse made his way there, a code blue was issued. Several staff members hurried past him. As he neared the room, a sinking feeling took hold of him. A nurse pushing a crash cart cut him off. The door swung wide to reveal a team of medical personnel fighting to keep the waitress alive.

Jesse leaned against the wall, waiting to see if the woman made it. Only Lydia and this woman had been out in the dining room area and seen who the customers were. If she died, that only left Lydia.


THREE (#ulink_19979ad1-fbe8-5310-9ed4-9c50b1ee05e2)

“What do you mean I have to escort Lydia home from the hospital? Why don’t you?” Good thing Thomas was Jesse’s friend, or he’d never get away with challenging a superior’s order.

Thomas started for his vehicle at the church bombing site. “Lydia requested you when I told her I wanted an officer to escort her home.”

“Are we going to guard her or something?” He didn’t want to be on that detail.

“Not at this time. The situation doesn’t warrant the drain on our manpower although I have authorized the police to drive by and periodically check on her and the two cooks who are still alive. I don’t think the cooks know much, but Lydia might. She was in the area that took the worst of the bombing. With the waitress dying, Lydia is our best chance. We’re focusing all we can on finding this maniac.”

“Do you think she’s in danger?”

“Not at the moment. Her name hasn’t been given to the press. If it gets out, we’ll reconsider what to do or if the autopsy findings on the waitress who died last night indicate murder. We reviewed the surveillance tapes of people going in and out of her room and only saw staff members. The doctor has no reason at the moment to think someone killed her. She was injured more severely than Lydia.” Thomas opened his car door. “I have a lead to follow up.”

“Trade you?”

Thomas shook his head. “You’re complaining because I asked you to make sure a beautiful woman gets home okay? I’m beginning to think you were the one who suffered a head trauma.”

“Cute. You know Lydia and I have a history.”

“Which is even more reason to put you with her. You know her. You know what to expect. I’m not asking you to be her new best friend.”

“You owe me.”

“You wanted in on this case.”

“Because this was my church that was bombed.” Jesse waved his arm toward where the building used to be.

“While you’re with her, help her to remember. Somewhere in her mind she might have seen the bomber and can ID him. Now, that would be a lead.”

Jesse watched Thomas drive away, then stormed to his police cruiser with Brutus. Before opening the rear of his SUV, he knelt next to his Rottweiler and petted him. “At least you understand why I don’t want to see her. I’ve ranted to you enough this past year. This city of nearly three hundred thousand doesn’t seem to be big enough for the both of us.”

Brutus barked, then licked Jesse on his cheek.

He laughed. “I like your reply. I know I’ve got to do my best. Nothing less.” He rubbed his hand down Brutus’s back. “Load.” Jesse gave the command for his K-9 to hop into the rear and crawl into his crate. He fastened the door, although in an emergency Brutus could undo the latch.

Yesterday when the other survivor had died, he’d interviewed the staff and reported it to Thomas. He’d asked the staff not to talk about the death. The police didn’t want rumors flying around. With Bree at the hospital, he’d keep tabs on anything being said.

Now he’d return to take Lydia home and have the task of informing her about the waitress’s death and finding the older gentleman’s remains in the last area to be searched at the bomb site. Since the young woman who had been the other missing person showed up at work, everyone was accounted for.

When he arrived at Lydia’s room, after dropping Brutus off at home, she sat in a wheelchair looking out the window. She glanced back at him as he entered.

“Thomas called and told me you were driving me home. I appreciate it.”

He approached her and clasped the wheelchair handles to roll her out of the room. “Why did you request me?” His voice sounded even, belying his frustration.

“Because I think we should talk, and you’ve been doing a good job of avoiding me. We were friends once—”

“Yes, once. We aren’t now.”

“I realize that, but I owe you an apology. I’ve been meaning to talk to you since before the bomb went off. If nothing else, I can take away from this situation how fragile life is. Don’t put off what you should do. In one second, a lot of people died at the hands of this madman. The more I think about what happened, the more I get the feeling I know something.”

“Shh.” Jesse scanned the hallway leading out of the building. “We’ll talk when we arrive at your house. I don’t want anyone overhearing us. We haven’t released your name to the press. The bomber doesn’t know who the survivors are.” If that truly was the case, then the waitress died naturally.

He waited until he brought the car around and assisted Lydia into the front passenger seat to tell her about the death of the waitress. He didn’t want a public reaction to the news.

On the drive to her house, after a long silence, Jesse stopped at a red light and looked at Lydia. “I didn’t want to say anything until we were alone, but the waitress died last night. An autopsy is being performed to determine the cause of death.”

“You don’t think her death is a result of the bomb explosion?”

“Probably. She was in more critical condition than you were, but she had been responding to treatment and improving so I can’t say for sure.”

“What does the press know?”

“How many died in the blast and that there were four survivors. No names at this time because we were still identifying victims and notifying family. That will change now since everyone is accounted for.”

Lydia stared out the windshield. “You think I might be in danger?”

“I hope not, but it’s a possibility if the bomber thinks you can ID him. That’s why we won’t release your name, but the press have their ways of finding out.”

“I can’t. Yet. But what if I did see him and I can’t remember?”

“You suffered a head trauma. Not remembering, especially right away, isn’t uncommon. Don’t force yourself. If you have any information, it’ll come to you in time.”

“Are you sure you work for the police? I’d think you should be pushing me to remember right now.”

When the light turned green, he threw her a half grin and pressed on the accelerator. “I know you. Force won’t work.”

“I’ve been trying, and I can remember a few bits like how Melinda looked when she heard the laugh track, how I felt when I did. After that nothing and not much else before other than remembering Bree thankfully left ten minutes before the bomb went off.”

“Yes, I talked with Bree. She remembered some of the people we found in the rubble.”

“Lunch was starting. The door opened and closed—four times after she was gone.” She shifted toward him. “I just thought of that.”

He glanced at her smile, which lit her whole face. He’d always loved seeing her grin from deep inside her. “See. It will come.”

“I feel like I need to remember right now because someone else might die if he strikes again.”

“We’re interviewing a lot of people who were there earlier or on that street sometime that morning. You’re not our only hope.”

Jesse pulled into her driveway, the same house he would pick her up at as a teenager. A memory flashed into his mind—of kissing her on the front porch. Eons ago when he was a different person. His chest tightened. He wouldn’t go down that path again.

“I’ll see you to your door.”

“Will you stay until Kate comes home from school?”

“I—I...” He didn’t want to be with her any more than necessary, but one look into her pale face and he couldn’t say no. “Fine. When does she get home? I’ll need to let Thomas know what I’m doing.”

Lydia checked the clock on the dashboard. “No more than an hour. She carpools with a few friends.”

As they walked slowly toward the house, Jesse just thought of something. “How are you going to get in? Your purse was destroyed by the bomb.”

She slipped her hand into her jean pocket and pulled out a key. “Bree had the locks changed and gave a key to me and Kate. Alex went grocery shopping for me, so I won’t have to do that right away. My friends have been so helpful, especially with Kate. Reconnecting with Bree and Alex when I came back to Anchorage has made my return home easier.” Lydia opened her front door and entered.

Jesse followed, scanning the house. He was glad he’d taken Brutus home so he could run and play in his large fenced backyard. These past days, his K-9 had worked long hours and needed the break.

Lydia dropped the small bag of clothes Bree had brought her in the hospital on a chair in the spacious living room and walked through the dining room toward the kitchen. “I’m fixing myself a good cup of tea. What they had at the hospital isn’t what I call tea. Do you want some?”

“I’m a coffee drinker. No, thanks.”

As he strolled through the house, snatches of his time spent here continued to bombard him. Lydia always had to come right home from school to babysit her little sister who stayed with a neighbor until Lydia arrived. Her dad didn’t get off work until six and sometimes didn’t come home right away. Lydia hated being alone and usually their friends would gather at her place.

Jesse caught sight of a recent photo of Lydia with her younger sister. Picking up the framed picture, he realized he hadn’t seen much of Kate since those early years. She looked a lot like Lydia at the same age. Quickly he returned the photograph to the end table.

Why had he agreed to stay until Kate got home? He didn’t want to be pulled into Lydia’s world again, and yet he had allowed himself to be persuaded to wait an hour.

“I have some...” Lydia opened the refrigerator “...I guess only water. Kate likes soft drinks, but there are none in here.”

“Water is fine.” He remained in the entrance of the dining room until the memory of sharing Thanksgiving dinner with Lydia and her family a few weeks before they broke up their senior year faded. He stood at the bay window that overlooked the unfenced backyard with woods a hundred yards from the house.

“Do you still get moose around here?”

“Yes, also caribous and occasionally a bear. That’s why I keep the garbage cans in the garage except on pickup day.”

“Have you had any trouble with them?” He could do a generic conversation with Lydia. Nothing too personal.

“Kate’s an animal lover and takes photos of all our visitors. Once she was at the window in her bedroom, snapping a picture when the bear came over and tried to get inside. He tore the screen, and we had to replace it. The way she screamed, I thought the bear was inside. I ran and got my dad’s gun, then went to rescue her.” She appeared behind him.

Jesse pivoted from the window, and the familiar scent of apple floated to him. She held out the glass of water, and he took it.

But she remained where she was—too close. When she looked up at him, for a few seconds the years apart fell away, and he was a teenager again and in love for the first time.

Then she smiled, and no one else existed for that moment. It was as if fifteen years vanished along with all the hurts and words exchanged between them.

The shrill whistle of the kettle pierced the air. Lydia gasped as though she’d been transfixed as much as he had.

When she crossed to the stove to make her tea, he sat in a chair and took deep sips of his iced water, relishing the cold liquid. “What happened with the bear?”

“I closed the blackout curtains and hoped he would forget that we were inside. He hit the screen a couple more times, then left. We both collapsed on the bed, laughing.”

“Laughing?”

“In relief that we were still alive. I’d been checking out the bedroom door and wondering if that would stop a bear if he did get into the house through the window. I’d decided no.”

Chuckling, Jesse relaxed, surprised by both actions.

When Lydia returned to the kitchen table and sat across from him, she blew on her tea and took a sip, a habit she’d had since he’d first known her. What else did she still do? She used to chew on her thumbnail when she was nervous. He looked at her hand and saw each fingernail was cut short.

“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh over my bear encounter. There is a downside to living a little ways out from the main part of the city. More wildlife.”

“To me that’s what’s appealing about this place. I live in town with a fenced yard. Brutus needs to have a place to exercise when he isn’t working. I can’t risk him encountering a bear.”

Lydia shifted in her chair and cringed. “I’m trying to ignore my bruised ribs, but they love reminding me they’ve been mistreated.”

“Being in that hallway protected you some from the main blast.”

She stared at her tea, tracing her finger around the rim. “I know. I...” She shook her head. “Can we not talk about the bombing?”

“You need to remember, and talking sometimes helps.”

Her mouth tightened. “Not right now. When I start trying to think about that day, my mind shuts down.”

“That’s not an unusual reaction for a traumatic experience. So what do you want to talk about, if not the case?”

“The way things ended for us. I never wanted to hurt you. If I could have done that over—”

He held up his hand. “Don’t. We can’t change what happened and discussing it to death won’t help. What was done is done.”

“I understand, but ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear.”

“Maybe I want to be reminded to be cautious.”

“With me?” Her eyes darkened. “I made a couple of big mistakes as a teenager and have learned a lot from them. I hope we can be friends at least.”

Friends. That was how things started originally. “Listen, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you and Aaron, but when you eloped it changed everything.”

A noise from the foyer charged the air between them.

“Lydia, I’m home. Where are you?”

“I’m in the kitchen.”

He stood, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor echoing through the kitchen. “I need to check in with Thomas before I call it a day. I’d better leave. I’ll lock the door on my way out.” He passed Kate in the dining room, nodding at her but not slowing his step.

Always in the back of his mind, he wondered why she’d married Aaron so fast after going out with him again. He’d thought they really had a chance to make it work that second time. He was a foster kid while Aaron came from a good family with some influence in Anchorage. Had money in the end meant something to Lydia? Or was it something else that changed her mind? They had started to make up after their breakup at Christmas, but in a snap of his finger, everything had fallen apart. And Jesse had only himself to rely on, again.

* * *

Lydia forced a smile when Kate came into the kitchen. The sound of the front door slamming came just as Lydia realized she’d have to tell Jesse the whole sordid incident of her becoming pregnant and having to marry Aaron. One foolish night and her whole life had changed. She lost so much then. Although she’d communicated with Kate on a regular basis over the years, they weren’t close. And her father had made it clear she wasn’t welcome in Anchorage.

“How was school?”

Kate shrugged. “Nothing earth-shattering. Everyone is still talking about the bombing. They’re scared.”

“So am I.”

“They’ve locked down the school tight. No one gets inside without a valid reason and everyone gets searched at the main entrance.”

“Good. I’m glad they’re taking precautions. I imagine other places will, too.”

Kate went to the refrigerator and looked inside. “We shouldn’t have to live in fear like this. Have you remembered anything?”

She already felt pressured. She hated that it was also coming from Kate. “I’m trying.” Lydia took her cup to the sink. “I’m going to lie down. Just doing this little has worn me out.”

“Can we order pizza tonight?”

“Sure. That way I don’t have to come up with something.” Lydia left the kitchen while Kate sliced cheese to put on crackers.

Emotionally and physically drained, Lydia moved slowly toward her bedroom at the end of the hallway. Luckily there were no steps to climb.

Crossing to the dresser, she decided to get comfortable and put on her pajamas, although it was only four thirty in the afternoon. In fact, she might sleep most of the evening and only get up to eat pizza, which she loved.

After she took a pair of pj’s out, she swung around, her gaze skimming over the items on her desk as she made her way to the bathroom connected to her bedroom. She stopped and stared at the wooden surface. Something was wrong. Her cup of pens seemed askew. Her desk didn’t look ransacked, but it didn’t look right. A shiver wracked her weakened body. Someone had gone through her desk.


FOUR (#ulink_5ccc9360-1193-556a-afb1-e7d9a4f53a6b)

Lydia racked her brain trying to figure out what felt so wrong. She hugged herself and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Didn’t she close the top drawer all the way? She always did. Keeping everything neat and in order helped her get through her busy schedule.

“What’s wrong?” Kate lounged against the doorjamb, popping the last bite of her cheese and cracker into her mouth.

Lydia pointed a shaky forefinger at the drawer slightly ajar. “Did you get something from my desk?”

Kate frowned and straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I didn’t go through your desk. Bree and I came in here and got some clothing for you, but that was all. Why do you think I would?” Anger edged Kate’s words.

Lydia stepped closer and pulled the drawer open. She spied the notebook with a snow scene on the cover inside and sighed. It was still there. Every night she would write in it and then put it up, shutting the drawer. Not that there were any big secrets in her journal, but the idea someone else read her innermost thoughts made her blood go cold. It was one place where she would let everything out.

Lydia shut the drawer completely and looked toward Kate. “Sorry. I must have left it open. I’m such a creature of habit I thought someone had been in here going through the desk. Do you remember when you were getting the clothes if it was ajar?”

“I don’t even remember looking at the desk. I know you have a place for everything, but maybe you were upset and for once didn’t close it all the way.”

The last time she wrote in her journal, Lydia had poured her heart out about the fight she and her little sister had over a boy Kate was dating. Lydia shook her head. She’d said some things that she regretted. To say there was tension between them after their argument concerning Connor was an understatement.

Kate surveyed the room. “Is anything missing?”

Lydia didn’t get thrown off her game easily, but when she did she had trouble regaining focus. Her attention fixed on her laptop, sitting exactly as she would have left it sitting on the top of her desk. “Not that I can see. I guess with all that has happened lately, I’m jumpy. But still...” She stared at the drawer, not able to shake the thought she was right. No, it was only her overactive mind. Obviously she’d gone through a traumatic experience she hadn’t dealt with yet and was imaging problems when there weren’t any.

“Maybe you should call Sergeant Hunt. Let him know. He’s been working on your case.”

“And say what?” Lydia walked around the room, opening and closing other drawers. “Nothing seems to be gone. My most valuable possession in here is my laptop, and it’s on the desk.” When she looked into her walk-in closet, she stiffened. Clothes and hangers were tossed on the floor.

“Maybe I should call him. My closet is a mess,” Lydia murmured before she could stop herself.

Kate came up behind her and glanced over Lydia’s shoulder. She flinched at her little sister’s quiet approach and stepped back.

Kate pushed past her into the closet and began picking up the shirts and pants.

“Leave it. It could be evidence.”

Clenching a blouse in her hand still on its hanger, Kate glared at her. “I did this. I was upset and hurrying to get back to the hospital. I was looking for the green shirt you like to wear because it’s so comfortable. I thought you could wear it home.”

Her tension deflated, Lydia sagged against the door, holding herself upright. “I’ll take care of it later. Right now I just want to lie down.” She made her way to her bed and sank back against the pillows. “I’m sorry I accused you of going through my desk.”

“Yeah, right.” Kate huffed and stomped into the hallway.

I should get up and go after her. But exhaustion swamped Lydia. She closed her eyes and decided she would in a little while after Kate calmed down. After Lydia rested...

* * *

As Jesse drove toward the bistro bomb site after being at Lydia’s, he couldn’t shake from his mind the brief conversation about that last year before she eloped with Aaron and didn’t return to Anchorage. All he wanted to do was forget it. Why did women always want to discuss things to death? The past was just that.

And as far as he and Lydia being friends, he didn’t see that as an option. He didn’t want her to hurt him again. It was like when he was a young boy and touched the hot stove. He never did it again. Once was enough to teach him to stay away.

Thomas wanted Jesse to follow up with the appliance store’s owner today. The black Chevy with the partial license plate number Jesse had written down hadn’t been found yet.

Not long after the bombing, Thomas had sent two police officers to interview each store owner on the street. Yesterday Officer Williams hadn’t been able to get much from Mr. Pickens, the man who owned the appliance store. He’d been so shaken up that he could barely remember anything about that morning. This was the first day the police had allowed people back on the street after another thorough search for a follow-up bomb or any evidence. Besides Mr. Pickens, Jesse would also interview the manager at the clothing store and drugstore next door.

Jesse parked in front of Pickens Appliance, and after retrieving Brutus from the back, entered the shop. He immediately homed in on the tall, overweight man watching two men measure the area where the plate glass window used to be.

Jesse approached Mr. Pickens, recognizing him from his driver’s license photo. “Mr. Pickens, I’m Sergeant Hunt, and I need to have a few words with you about the day of the bombing.”

“I was in the back when the bomb went off. Shook the whole building. By the time I came out of the office, everyone was fleeing, screaming, scared.”

“When did you leave that day?” Jesse gave Brutus a short leash and signaled for him to sit next to him.

“When you guys asked us to evacuate the area. I wasn’t gonna wait for another bomb to go off.”

“I checked your store not long after noon and found someone in here. He fled out the back. Do you have any idea who it could have been? An employee? A customer who didn’t leave?”

“Everyone was gone when I locked up. Don’t know why I bothered because all any person had to do was climb through the window.” Mr. Pickens waved his hand toward the large gap at the front of the building. “We spent all morning picking up the glass. It shattered everywhere.”

“Do you have a surveillance camera in here?”

The man pointed to two mounted cameras. “They don’t work. It’s not like someone is going to shoplift a stove. What did the person look like that you saw?”

“I got a brief glimpse of a dark hoodie before the door shut. When I looked out back, all I saw was a black Chevy driving away. Couldn’t tell you the year. Do you remember seeing anyone park there that morning?”

“No, but it was here when I came to work at ten. I thought it belonged to an employee of the stores next to me. Like I said, I was in my office most of the time on the phone to the bank.”

“Who were the employees working the floor that day?”

“Bill Campbell and myself.”

“So Bill is here?”

Mr. Pickens nodded. “He’s the one with the broom.”

Jesse approached Bill Campbell, a medium-sized lanky guy, with a sour expression on his face. After introducing himself, Jesse asked, “I understand you were on the floor the morning the bomb went off across the street. Did you see anything strange? Someone hanging around watching the building?”

He stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom. “It wasn’t busy that morning. We usually get more customers in the afternoon or evening. There was a woman in here looking, but she wasn’t here when the bomb went off. Don’t know her name. Then there was a young man, maybe twenty-five in here. He wandered around looking at all kinds of appliances.” Campbell stared at the hole where the window used to be. “You know he kept looking out front as if he was waiting for someone.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Nope but he was here when the bomb went off.”

“Did he leave right away?”

“I don’t know. I was hiding behind the counter. When I finally stood up, all I focused on was the bistro.”

“Would you be able to describe the man to a police artist?”

Campbell’s eyes grew round. “You think he had something to do with the bombing?”

“I’m looking into everything.”

“I’ll do what I can. We’ve got to catch this guy before another bomb goes off. Business was slow before this last bomb. I don’t expect much now.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll send the police artist then.” Jesse shook Campbell’s hand, then left with Brutus.

Jesse visited the clothing shop then the drugstore, flanking Pickens Appliance. Neither place had any promising leads. The few employees in those establishments were scared and jumpy. Phillip Keats, the pharmacist and manager, even told him one longtime woman employee called in sick and hadn’t returned since the bombing.

As he strolled to his SUV his phone rang. It was Lydia’s house number. He quickly answered, praying nothing was wrong. “Lydia?”

“No, this is Kate.”

“Has something happened?”

“Lydia thought someone had been in her bedroom. I’m scared.”

Jesse turned on his engine. “Is anyone there now?”

“No, but—”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” After disconnecting, Jesse pulled out of his parking space. Why didn’t Lydia call him? Because you told her to contact Thomas. He realized the foolhardiness of that. They might not be friends now, but they were close once. He couldn’t walk away because she hurt him in the past—not if her life was in jeopardy.

* * *

A sea of black surrounded her, but Lydia couldn’t move. Something held her down. Her heartbeat began to race. She couldn’t breathe.

Lydia’s eyes flew open. Darkness blanketed her. A band felt as though it constricted her chest. Panic drove her off the bed. But when she stood, she began to see shapes and glimpsed the clock. It was 9:30—obviously at night. She wasn’t trapped any longer. She was safe and at home.

Just a dream—no, a nightmare.

She flipped on the overhead light and drank in the sight of her bedroom. She eased onto the bed and dragged deep breaths into her lungs until her heartbeat slowed to a normal rate.

Quiet melted the tension that had gripped her, and she thought of going back to sleep. But immediately dismissed that notion. She’d already slept over four hours, and her stomach rumbled. She decided to check on Kate and see if she’d ordered that pizza.

Thoughts of her sister brought back what happened earlier and the fact that Kate was no doubt angry with her, her usual attitude toward Lydia. She hadn’t handled her sister right. She needed to apologize. She didn’t want what happened to disrupt her life any more than it already had.

Out in the hallway, she found Cheri waiting at her door. Scooping her cat up into her arms, she started for the living room. The sound of Kate’s voice as well as a deep, masculine one floated to her. Who was here? She hoped it wasn’t the boy Kate was dating. Connor was a senior and from what she’d discovered, wild. Lydia didn’t want her sister making the mistake she’d made.

She followed the voices to the kitchen. Stopping in the entrance, she stared first at Brutus, then Jesse sitting at the table with Kate across from him.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more pizza? Lydia might not wake up until morning.” Kate was finishing off a piece, then slurped a long sip of her soft drink.

Jesse’s gaze snagged Lydia’s.

Kate twisted around in her chair and looked at Lydia. “How long have you been there?”

She moved into the kitchen, Cheri wiggling in her arms. “A few seconds. Why?” She placed her cat on the floor, and Cheri stared at Brutus, then walked to him and settled down beside the Rottweiler as though that was where she belonged. Brutus gave her cat one look and closed his eyes.

Kate shrugged. “Just wondering.”

What had they been talking about? Lydia switched her attention to Jesse, his expression his usual neutral one whenever they were around each other. “Why are you here? Has something happened on the case?”

Jesse and Kate exchanged a glance. “Kate called me.”

“How? Why?” Her sister had met Jesse at the hospital and had seen him again when she’d come home from school earlier, but that had all been casual.

Kate scraped the chair back and shot to her feet, rounding on Lydia. “I called Bree and she gave me Jesse’s number. I started thinking about how someone might have been in the house, and I got scared.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“And you’d do what? You’re hurting. Bree was working, and David is tied up. I thought of asking Connor to come over, but then you’d freak out if you found him here.”

If she’d seen Connor, she probably would have. Connor reminded her of Aaron, and she didn’t want her sister to have anything to do with him, especially when she was sound asleep in another room. “I was wrong. I’m sure no one has been in the house while we were gone. The evening before the bombing, I was late going to bed, and I just didn’t shut the drawer all the way. I can’t even remember what happened at the bistro, let alone the night before.” I’m panicking at the small things.

Kate curled her hands and then uncurled them. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I’ve got homework.” She looked over her shoulder at Jesse. “Thanks for sitting here with me.”

“No problem.” He gave her a smile that died the second Kate left the kitchen.

Leaving them alone.

The past few minutes left Lydia drained. She sank onto the chair Kate had vacated. Brutus came over and put his head in her lap. She began stroking him, and the feel of his fur soothed her. Finally she looked up at Jesse, studying him.

“You should have called Thomas if you thought there was a chance someone was in your house.”

“But not you,” came out, and she wished she could take those words back. Even she could hear the regret in them. Cheri jumped up on the table and purred, then plopped down in front of Lydia while Brutus lay on the floor by her chair.

Jesse glanced out the window over the sink.

When she could no longer take the silence, Lydia made a decision. Right now she felt her life had shattered into hundreds of fragments. “I can’t change what happened, but I’m asking you to put what happened right after graduation in the past. I could use a friend right now.”

He swung his attention to her, but she couldn’t read anything in his expression. “What about Bree or Alex?”

“You knew me better than anyone did at one time.”

One eyebrow rose. “Did I? I used to think I did, but then you took off. One day you were here. The next gone and married.”

“I called you and left a message on your voice mail.”

“Yeah, at the airport right before you got on the plane to leave. With no real explanation.”

Stress knotted her shoulders and neck, the pain surpassing the ache from her bruised ribs. She remembered the tears she’d cried when she’d agreed to marry Aaron and leave. The disappointment on her father’s face was engraved in her mind—a vision she couldn’t shake even after all these years. She’d let everyone down, but mostly Jesse. He deserved better than her.

She swallowed several times, but still her throat was as dry as the ground in the midst of a severe drought. She walked to the sink and drank some water, then returned to the table, combing her fingers through Cheri’s thick white fur. “I couldn’t because we’d promised our parents we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“What? That you were eloping?”

“That I was pregnant with—Aaron’s child.”

For a few seconds his mouth pressed together in a thin, hard line, and his eyes darkened. Then as though he realized he was showing his anger a shutter descended over his features. But she saw a tic in his jawline.

Finally after a long moment, he asked, “Where’s your child? With Aaron?”

That he would even think she’d let Aaron have full custody of her child devastated her. She rose, gripping the edge of the table and leaning into it. “I lost my little girl when I was seven months pregnant. I had to deliver her stillborn.” She spun on her heel and stalked toward the hallway.

She heard the sound of the chair being scooted across the tiles, and all she could think about was getting away from him before she fell apart and poured out the pain she’d locked deep inside.

He caught up with her and clasped her arm, stopping her escape. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I know how much you wanted children.”

A houseful, she’d once told him when they’d talked about the future. “Dreams have a way of changing,” she whispered, remembering the few times she’d dated after her divorce from Aaron. No one had been Jesse. Instead, she’d thrown her life into her career and her love of animals.

“Yes, I know.” His hand fell away from her.

And she missed his touch. For a second, she’d felt connected to him again like when they were teenagers.

“Why didn’t you come back to Alaska?”

“I was married to Aaron and I took that seriously. I wanted to make our marriage work even after our daughter died.”

“What happened?”

“He had an affair with one of his professors while I worked to support us and allowed him to go to college full-time.”

“He came back here a couple of years ago with an older woman as a traveling companion. He talked with Thomas but didn’t get in touch with me.” One corner of his mouth hitched up. “Good thing, too, even though I didn’t know all the details of your elopement.” He swept his arm toward the table. “I’ll warm up some pizza while we talk about what happened earlier. Kate had herself worked up by the time I arrived.”

His softer expression coupled with his coaxing voice urged her to accept, especially because she was hungry. “That sounds nice. Food was what drew me out here in the first place.”

After Jesse heated up the remaining slices and fixed a cup of tea for Lydia, he sat across from her. As she took several bites, he finally asked, “Explain again why you initially felt someone had been in your house. I’ve taken a look around and haven’t seen a forced point of entry. I was surprised you didn’t have a dog or two until your assistant brought the cats.”

She placed Cheri on the floor, then took several sips of her warm tea. “I had Bree take both of my cats to the veterinary hospital for boarding. I didn’t want her to have to deal with them and Kate. JoAnn, my assistant who brought them home, told me they were being thoroughly spoiled. Charlie and Cheri are siblings left at the back door of the hospital. One look into Cheri’s green eyes and I knew I had to keep them.”

“No guard dog?”

She shook her head. “But Charlie growls like a dog, and anytime someone comes to the house, he’s at the door growling.”

“That’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah, but as soon as the person comes in, he runs and hides, whereas Cheri is all over the visitor. She’s never met a stranger.”

“So that’s why I’ve only seen her.” Flipping his hand at Cheri, Jesse relaxed. “I’m surprised you have cats. You always had a dog growing up.”

“The cats needed me.” And I needed them. It had been within a month of her arrival in Anchorage. She’d been dealing with a hostile sister, who was grieving but not expressing those emotions. Many nights she’d been up late cuddling Cheri and talking to her about her day. In those first months she and Kate had argued every day. At least now it wasn’t as often.

“Tell me about going into your bedroom.”

“I didn’t notice anything at first, but when I looked at my desk, I saw the top drawer was open about an inch or two. I always make sure I close drawers and cabinets. Remember when I fractured my wrist?”

“Oh, yeah. You told me you fell, not how.”

“I’d opened the drawer a few minutes before, then the phone rang and I was in a hurry to answer it, but I rammed right into the drawer and fell. It’s become second nature to me to shut them now, which is why it stood out, but I couldn’t find anything missing or out of order. I was upset, so I supposed I could have forgotten to shut the drawer. The night before Kate and I had a big fight over Connor. That boy isn’t good for her, but she won’t listen to me.”

“And you find that strange?” A grin twitched the corners of his mouth.

“Okay, you don’t have to remind me about my dad and me. He changed so much after Mom left, and I could be stubborn.”

“You think?”

She narrowed her eyes and pinched her lips together but couldn’t maintain the tough act. She started chuckling. “I seem to remember you could be quite determined, too.”

“Still am, and I’m especially determined to catch this person setting off the bombs. If you don’t mind, I didn’t check out your room earlier. May I look at it?”




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