Eden watched through the passenger side window of the squad car as Max, Sam and the additional officers took charge of the scene. The bomb squad set up a cushioned barrier between the officers and the building, then used a robot device to approach the planter.
She held her breath as the robot had a steel head on it that raised and lowered. It was hard to see, but eventually the pincher end of the robot pulled a small package wrapped in dark green paper from the planter.
A sick feeling settled in her stomach. Was it possible that bomb had been meant for her? She thought back, retracing their steps. Even if they’d left from the front of the building, rather than the back, they would still go past the building.
The only way to have avoided the planter was to have gone around to the alley behind the restaurant.
But if the bomb was meant for her, why hadn’t it been detonated? Had they found it too quickly? Maybe he thought they were too far away to do much damage? She buried her face in her trembling hands. Why? Who was doing this and why? While the bomb may have been intended for her, she knew that it would have hurt dozens of others, too.
Innocent bystanders, who had nothing to do with this.
Dear Lord, help us find the answers we need to keep us all safe.
There was a light tapping on her window, causing her to jerk upright. Her pulse settled when she recognized Max.
He opened the door and knelt in front of her, his gaze full of concern. Sam sat, too, as if intent on offering his support. “Are you okay?”
She forced a smile. “I will be. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”
“Me, too.” He held her gaze for a long moment, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms. “Officer Neely is going to give you a ride back to the precinct.”
“What about you and Sam?”
Max glanced at his partner. “We still need to head over to interview Hank Voight. In the meantime, I’d like you to go back to that video, see if you can see our perp leaving the bomb in the planter and/or doing a handoff with anyone from the 646.”
She blew out a breath, realizing he was right. They each had a job to do and finding their bomb-planting assailant was at the top of the list. “All right. But will you please call me after your interview with Hank? I’d like to know if he gives you something to go on.”
“I will.” His dimple flashed. “I promise.”
She reached over to lightly stroke Sam’s fur. “I’m so thankful for Sam’s incredible nose.”
The K-9 leaned into her caress.
“That makes two of us.” Max briefly covered her hand with his, then rose to his feet. “Come, Sam.”
She felt certain the K-9’s dark eyes held disappointment as he left her side to follow Max back to the bomb scene.
“Ready, ma’am?”
“Of course.”
Officer Neely was a nice enough guy. He chatted nonstop on the short drive to the K-9 Unit, but Eden didn’t hear a word he said.
Her mind was preoccupied by the near miss. And she wondered why in the world the assailant hadn’t detonated the device.
Because there were too many people around? Or because he’d been waiting for the perfect time to do the maximum amount of damage?
Neither theory was reassuring.
“Eden?” The officer was looking at her expectantly.
She realized he’d parked in the angled space right in front of the doorway to their precinct. “Oh, sorry. Thanks.” She pushed open the door and climbed out of the car.
Resisting the urge to glance back over her shoulder, she hurried inside.
“Eden!” Penny’s eyes were wide with fear. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Where’s Max and Sam?”
“Max took Sam to interview someone possibly connected. They’ll be here soon.” She paused near Penny’s desk. “If it weren’t for Sam’s keen nose, things could have turned out very differently.”
“I know.” Penny’s expression turned grim. “Sarge wants this guy found ASAP.”
So did she. “I’m heading up to review the video. Maybe this time, he’s slipped up enough to give us a glimpse of his face.”
“I hope so.” Penny waved a hand. “Go and be prepared for a visit from Sarge.”
Eden hurried up to her workspace, determined to have something to show Gavin and Max. This guy had to make a mistake sooner or later.
Preferably sooner.
But when she pulled up the video feed, a spear of disappointment stabbed deep. She found the man dressed in black easily enough, even pinpointed the slight tear in the cuff of his jacket. But as before, he seemed to know where the cameras were located, and used pedestrian traffic to his advantage. She could tell he approached the building where the planter was located but couldn’t capture an image of him actually dropping the bomb inside. Instead, within seconds he was walking away.
She continued following his path, jumping from one video camera to the next. He kept his head down the entire time, until he finally ducked into a shop approximately a half mile from where he’d left the bomb. She continued looking to capture him leaving, but never saw him.
Which was very strange. Why hadn’t he come out of the store?
“Eden?”
Gavin’s voice drew her gaze from the screens before her. She nodded in acknowledgment. “Hi, Sarge. I have him on camera dropping the bomb, then going inside a store, but that’s about it. He never came out and there’s no clear image of his face.”
Her boss stood beside her, taking in the images she’d captured on each of the four computer screens. His jaw was granite hard. “Who is this guy?”
She shook her head. “I wish I knew.”
Gavin swung to face her. “You’re absolutely sure you don’t know him?”
“Hard to say without a good view of his face. I mean, look at that.” She waved her hand at the screens. “He’s average height and weight, no distinguishing marks visible. Nothing but this tiny tear in the cuff of his sleeve.”
“Where?”
She used the cursor of the computer mouse to indicate the mark she’d been able to capture. Gavin leaned closer to the computer with a frown. “It’s pretty small.”
“But visible in each of the images.” Using her keyboard, she drew up the previous videos she’d saved.
After viewing them all, Gavin nodded and stepped back. “It’s something, but we could use more.”
“I know. I’m trying.” She didn’t have to point out that she wanted this guy caught and tossed behind bars more than anyone.
Except Max.
Gavin’s tone gentled. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Once Max finishes up with the bomb scene, he’ll interview Hank Voight, the guy who we believe put the peanut oil on your salad. Could be he’ll give us something to go on.”
“I hope so. I’m going to review that video, too, see if there’s footage of the handoff between my stalker and Voight in the alley behind the diner.”
“Good.” Gavin gave a curt nod. “Let me know if you catch them in the act.”
“Yessir.” She turned her attention back to her screens with a new sense of urgency. There had to be some way to crack this case open. She found a view of the alley behind the diner and saw that the man in black approached Hank Voight, the cook. It looked as if something exchanged hands, but it happened so fast it was difficult to see. Still, she sent a quick text to Max about what she’d found.
Scanning the video again, she furrowed her brow when she noticed the guy in black lightly pat his thigh with one hand as he walked. Something niggled at the back of her memory. Had she seen that gesture before?
Going through her previous video feeds, she found the guy again, this time as he left to follow Patti Wang. There! He did that same patting gesture again.
Was the gesture significant? A nervous tick? Or patting his pocket to make sure he still had something in there? It wasn’t easy to tell from the grainy photos, but she found he’d done the same patting gesture again after dropping off the package containing the snow-globe bomb outside the precinct.
She sat back in her chair, her gaze moving from one screen to the next, looking at the weird pat-pat-patting again.
There was something odd about the way he did that.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it meant.
When the scene was cleared and the bomb secured in a safe hold, Max felt it was well past time to move on to the next step of the investigation.
First and foremost he wanted a vehicle. The precinct where Hank was being detained was on the other side of Brooklyn and the sooner he could question the cook from the 646, the better.
This was the most promising lead they had, and he was banking on the fact that Hank would provide a decent description of the guy. Maybe even work with a sketch artist to get a likeness for them to work from.
They needed a break, soon. Before more innocent lives were put in danger.
Especially Eden. It bothered him just how close they’d come to the bomb site. He reached over to pat Sam on the head. His partner had come through for them.
“Good boy,” he praised, as they headed back to pick up a K-9 vehicle.
It was tempting to take a few minutes to go up and see Eden, but he squelched the urge. He was already running later than planned. And frankly there was no reason to see her.
Other than to reassure himself she was really okay.
He gave himself a mental shake. Before the attempted stabbing, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Eden had been a valued member of their team, and nothing more.
But not any longer. She was important to him on a personal level.
He couldn’t allow his preoccupation with her welfare to get in the way of doing his duty.
Twenty minutes later, he parked his SUV, took Sam out of the back, and headed inside the precinct. He offered his badge for inspection and was led into one of their interview rooms.
An officer hovered in the doorway. “Where have you been? I was getting ready to cut him loose.”
“Sorry, but there was an IED situation that held me up. Hopefully this won’t take long.”
The officer shrugged. “Okay, I’ll get Voight.”
The cop returned with Hank a few minutes later. The moment Hank saw Sam, the cook shied away.
“No dogs! Get him out of here! He might attack me.”
“He won’t,” Max said. He gave Sam a hand signal and the Rottweiler dropped to his haunches, although his gaze never left Hank. “See? He’s very well trained.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, pinning Hank with a stern look. After going through the Miranda warning, he asked, “Are you willing to talk to me?”
Hank shrugged. “I guess.”
“Good.” Max leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” Hank feigned innocence.
Max leaned forward. “We have video that shows a man dressed in black leaving the back of the diner. We know he gave you the peanut oil with instructions to put it on Eden’s food. I want to understand why you did it.”
Hank seemed to shrink farther into his seat, his gaze darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape. “Are you sure it’s me on that video?”
“Why didn’t you go to work today?”
Hank blinked, then licked his lips. “I’m sick.”
“Did he pay you?”
Hank began to nod, then caught himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sam growled low in his throat.
“Okay! I put the peanut oil on her salad. I didn’t think she’d stop breathing or anything. The guy said it was a joke! That she didn’t like the taste, nothing more. I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry.” His wide eyes were full of fear and regret.
Knowing Hank had done the deed wasn’t enough. “How much did he pay you?”
“Five hundred bucks.” Hank morosely stared down at the table. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Did you know this guy? Had you seen him before?”
Hank shook his head. “Never. He just flashed the money in my face and told me he needed a favor. I was taking a quick smoke break. Joe doesn’t like it, but it’s stressful back there in the middle of the lunch rush. I had a quick smoke and this guy asked me to use the peanut oil as a practical joke on his friend. I needed the cash, so I took it.”
Friend? “Describe him for me.”
Now Hank looked confused. “Describe him?”
Max tamped down a flash of impatience. “Race, hair color, eye color, age, scars or other identifiable features.”
“Um, white. And, um, average height and weight. Maybe dark hair. I couldn’t see much of his face, because he had a scarf and wore a hat.”
Max couldn’t stand the thought that he’d run into another dead end. “Tell me exactly what he said.”
Hank licked his lips again. “He said, ‘Do you want to make a quick five hundred bucks? I need you to put this peanut oil on my friend’s food—she’s sitting with a cop at the end of the counter. It’s a private joke.’”
Max replayed the statement in his mind. The guy must have seen him and Eden go in and sit down together. “Was the peanut oil in a container of some sort?”
“Yeah.” Hank glanced between them. “I squirted some on and then tossed it in a dumpster in the alley. Look, I’m sorry. The five hundred bucks wasn’t worth all this.”
No, it wasn’t. Max gestured for the officers to go check out the dumpsters behind the restaurant. Finding the bottle would be good, although likely not helpful as the assailant had been wearing gloves.
On his way back to the precinct, his phone rang. “Santelli.”
“Max? It’s Darcy. The bomb squad uncovered the phone number that was programmed in to detonate the snow-globe device.”
“Really? That’s great news. What’s the number? We need to find out who owns the phone associated with it.”
“We already know,” Darcy said. “It’s Eden’s cell number.”
“Eden’s?” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks.” He disconnected from the call, trying not to imagine Eden using her phone near the snow globe only to have it blow up in her face. She collected snow globes. Chances are that she’d have put it on her desk. How many times did she use her phone during any given day? Probably too many.
This wasn’t your average bomb freak. This level of skill was at a much higher level.
And he had no idea when this guy would try to strike next.