SATURDAY 8:45 P.M.
TRINITY HISTORY THEATER AND MUSEUM
DALLAS, TEXAS
Uneasiness gnawed at Heath. Emily’s speech was a reminder of what they’d been trying to escape. Harper had chosen to wait until after the gala to tell her sister about their uncle, but now he thought that might have been a big mistake.
He reached for Harper’s hand, hoping to squeeze it before he lost his nerve, but she stood suddenly and made her way down the row of theater seats and out one of the side doors. He waited a moment for her to return. When she didn’t, Heath winked at little Dawson, who squirmed in his father’s lap. He feared the boy would eventually escape. Heath eased from his seat, then whispered an apology to James before sliding by people in the row and following Harper through the door. A hallway stretched in both directions, and across the way was a large atrium with chairs. But no Harper.
Hands on his hips, he turned in a circle and then he spotted her. At the end of the hall toward the foyer, she paced. He jogged forward and caught her arms. “What are you doing?”
Tears surged in her eyes. She blinked them back. “Didn’t you listen to Emily’s speech? The Firebomber. It’s here. Tonight. This . . . this is the anniversary of his last bomb. He bombed this place twenty-three years ago. We have to warn them. We have to get people out of here.”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What makes you think that? The feds are already on this. They’re looking for him and will stop him before his next bomb.”
“Like they did last time? They’re not moving fast enough. Call it a hunch if you want, but think about it, Heath. We know Uncle Jerry has plans for another bomb. This is the last building he bombed as the Firebomber. Emily and I are here. He could have figured out that Emily would be here. He could have looked inside the camper when we weren’t there to get more information about us. Maybe he found out she was an author and that she was being honored here tonight. To a crazy person—that would be the perfect ending to his life. He’s sick and dying, we know that. What better way for him to go out? I was wrong to think that he had stopped trying to kill me. I’m still the witness to his crime. Make that, crimes. He killed my father.” Hands shaking, she pulled out her cell.
Heath urged her against the wall. He had to think. If she was right, time was against them. It could already be too late. Reporting a bomb if there wasn’t one would ruin the evening and make a lot of people angry, not to mention possibly result in prison time for them, depending on how the call was seen. But people’s lives could be at stake. He studied Harper. She seemed convinced. He wished he could look around for something suspicious, but that would waste time.
“There’s security here for this event. Let’s alert them first.” He started off to find someone.
“I already told one of them. He left to call someone.” Harper lifted her cell to her ear.
“Then that’s all we can do,” he said.
“Is it? I can’t be sure he took me seriously.” Harper spoke into her cell, explaining her concerns. “I don’t know where it’s located. Yes, I told a security guard here, but I don’t know what he’s doing about it.”
She continued to pace, frowning. “No idea when it’s going to go off or what it looks like. No, I didn’t place the bomb. Please send someone to get these people out of here.”
Harper hung up. “I think they’re going to send the police, because what else can they do when someone calls in a bomb threat? But what if I’m wrong?”
Heath also pulled out his cell to call Taggart, Moffett, and Liam, because they understood the Firebomber and could take action and get things moving. Heath left voice mails with all three. Time. It all took too much time. He called the local FBI office. Getting through to someone who could make this happen and fast was . . . infuriating.
He should simply pull the fire alarm. That would be faster.
“Special Agent DeSanto speaking.”
“Deputy Heath McKade speaking. I think the Firebomber could target Trinity History Theater and Museum tonight during the Metcalfe Gala on the anniversary of the bombing twenty-three years ago. It’s packed with people. Should I pull the fire alarm?” That would get them moving.
“Do not activate the alarm. That would incite a panic. People could die as they fled. Someone has already called. We’re sending police to assess the situation. They’ll make the decision. Let them prepare the building for evacuation and secure the facility. Stand down, Deputy McKade.”
Heath ended the call. To assess the situation? To prepare for evacuation? Would they make it in time? “Why couldn’t the feds in Wyoming have figured this out from all the information that the bomber left them?”
“Meghan told me something. She said that, in the past, he often left clues to purposefully mislead the authorities. That’s one reason they never caught him. Maybe that’s what he’s done again.”
“Let’s get your sister and do what we can to save everyone we can.”
They rushed back into the theater and stood against the wall. Emily remained on the stage amid laughter and applause, though she glanced offstage as if distracted.
Harper’s eyes riveted to her sister. “Oh, hurry, Em. Hurry up, please,” she whispered.
“You get out of here. I’ll get Emily, James, and Dawson.”
“I don’t see James. Maybe he took Dawson to the little boys’ room. Oh, Heath, what are we going to do?”
“You’re leaving the building, Harper. But stay close to law enforcement if possible until I get them out.” Heath had committed himself to watching over Harper. Part of him wanted to carry her out of here and away, but she would never forgive him if others were hurt. He would never forgive himself, period.
Heart pounding, he pressed toward disaster.
God, why am I in this situation when you know I never should have been the one to protect Harper? It was my idea to bring her here—and now look! No matter how hard I try, I make things worse!
“I’m not going anywhere without you or my sister.” Harper followed him along the far wall where they expected Emily to step from the stage and they could rush her out.
Lord, please let the police get here in time.
He really hoped Harper was wrong about the bomb.
His cell buzzed with a text. He should ignore it. But he’d called several people. He quickly glanced at his phone.
Liam.
Get out! The FBI believes Jerry’s going to bomb the Trinity History Museum. Isn’t that where you are?
The feds had figured it out. But fast enough to save people?
Agent DeSanto had told Heath to stand down. But he was here and could do something. He made his way toward the alarm, though he would ask everyone to leave calmly first.
Emily ended her speech. Something offstage drew her attention, and instead of coming toward them, she twisted and walked the other way, then disappeared backstage.
“Oh no, Heath. We have to get her.”
With a deafening beep, the fire alarm sounded. Heath shared a look with Harper. He hadn’t pulled it.
Someone shouted. “Get out now!”
What?
At that moment, officers rushed in as waves of bodies hurried by them and over them and through them.
Heath reached for Harper and grabbed empty space.
She was gone.