They didn’t speak on the way to the docks. Olivia sat in tight-lipped silence, hands clenched in her lap, refusing to look at him. Sal understood her anger. He’d taken away her hope, her belief that they would get Chantry back safely.
Though Sal regretted hurting her that way, she needed to prepare for the worst. Once abductors had what they wanted, they most often got rid of the hostages. That was the only ending that made sense to them.
At the dock, he parked the truck and rounded it to help Olivia out. She wrinkled her nose. He didn’t blame her. Brine and diesel oil brewed together in an unpleasant mix. Longshoremen worked at unloading freighters. Shouts pierced the air.
She nodded her thanks but still didn’t say anything to him. Finally, she touched his arm. “I’m sorry. You were only trying to help if...if things don’t go the way we want.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I can put the drive in the trash can.”
“They told me to do it. I have to do this. For Calvin.”
Sal didn’t answer but pointed to the can the kidnappers had designated. Per instructions, Olivia set the bag containing the drive in it.
“It’s done. Calvin will show up any moment. You’ll see.”
He wished he felt as confident.
“What are they waiting for? We gave them the drive.”
Sal knew she didn’t expect an answer.
A man appeared on the bow of a boat. Judging from Olivia’s cry of joy, it was Chantry. She waved and he raised his arm in return.
“Calvin! Calvin!” She started to rush forward, only to be stopped when Sal clamped an arm around her waist.
That suddenly, the boat was engulfed in flames. Black smoke belched from it. Murderous reds, violent oranges lit the sky. The smell hit them in the face. Bitter. Acrid. The stench reeked of destruction. And death.
Sal pushed Olivia down, fell on top of her.
The earth trembled. He curved his body over her, protecting her from the raining debris of metal and wood.
“Open your mouth!”
“What?”
“Just open it.” Keeping their mouths open would prevent their eardrums from rupturing.
“Are you okay?” he asked when the explosion had subsided.
“I th-think so. What about you?”
“Fine. Let’s get you out of here.” He stood, held out his hand to help her up. “Can you stand?”
“I have to go to Calvin. Maybe he’s hurt and needs help.”
“You can’t help him. Not now.”
“We have to do something.” She struggled against Sal’s hold on her, but she was no match for his strength.
Sal turned her around, pressed her against his chest. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Too late. I already have. I saw my friend being burned alive.”
* * *
“We need to get the USB back.”
Olivia nodded, unable to do anything more. But when Sal went for the USB, gunshots rang out.
The shots weren’t coming from the where the boat had been docked only minutes ago but from a different direction. Sal grabbed Olivia. They zigzagged across the dock and ran toward his truck.
He yanked open the door, and she climbed inside. They didn’t wait for the police to show up but sped to the police station. At the police station, they headed to Detective Nynan’s office.
The detective stood. “You two again? What have you gotten yourselves into this time?”
Sal gave a terse account of what had happened. “We didn’t feel like sticking around for the police to show up.”
Nynan picked up his phone, barked out a couple of orders, listened, then nodded. “Let me know what you find.” He turned back to Olivia and Sal. “Officers have already responded. I have some questions for you folks.”
Before Olivia could respond, Sal said, “Ms. Hammond has had a shock. I’ll answer any questions.”
She pulled herself up. “I can answer questions.”
He gave her a probing look. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I’ll have to answer them sometime. It might as well be now.”
The warm approval in his eyes wrapped around her heart. “We stay as long as you’re able. Then I’m taking you home. Shock is going to set in.”
“I’m not in shock,” she protested.
“You will be,” he predicted. “Right now, you’re feeling numb. That’s good. It lets you keep functioning. But that won’t last forever. And then you’re going to crash.”
He was right. She would have thought of it for herself, but the numbness he’d spoken of was causing her thought processes to turn sluggish.
“Let’s do it. Before I change my mind.”
* * *
The police questioning wasn’t as bad as Sal had feared.
Nynan took them through the phone call from the kidnappers, finding the drive in the hidden drawer and then putting it in the trash can. His eyes narrowed when Olivia confessed to not calling the police immediately after receiving the call. “We could have helped.”
“We were trying to save a life,” she said.
He nodded curtly. “You say you saw your friend on the deck of the boat and then the explosion happened.”
“That’s right,” Olivia agreed, weariness heavy in her voice.
“We do have something,” Sal said and produced the copy of the drive that he and Olivia had made. “You’ll find a file about Bryan Hewston. It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“Thanks.” Another curt nod. “At least you had the foresight to copy it so the evidence isn’t gone.”
“I think we’ve gone over everything,” Sal said. “And now, I’m taking Olivia home.”
The last days had caught up with her. The smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes had darkened with every hour.
He wanted to erase the shadows, to wipe away the fear and ugliness that had invaded her life. The impossibility of that caused his mouth to tighten. He didn’t like feeling powerless.
The detective stood. “If you think of anything else,” he said, “anything at all that will help us catch the people who did this, call me. Anytime.” He handed a card to Sal.
Olivia, a lady to her core, said, “Thank you, Detective.”
“Thank you for coming in. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“No. It wasn’t. But it had to be done. I owed it to Calvin.”
“Our forensics team will go over the boat, or what’s left of it. We’ll find out what caused the fire, trace what accelerant was used. That may give us a lead. Arsonists usually have a signature. We’ve got a database of local arsonists and explosive experts.”
Sal had been interviewed first, then remained quiet while the detective questioned Olivia. Though she’d held up well, she now looked fragile enough to break. He stood, placed a palm under her elbow and helped her to her feet.
Outside, he settled his hand at the small of her back, the proprietary gesture for his sake as much as hers. He was gratified to see that the trembling of her shoulders had subsided and that a bit of color had returned to her face.
What he hadn’t reconciled was his own overwhelming need to hold her to him and never let her go. He was here on a job, he reminded himself. Acting on his feelings for Olivia wasn’t in that job description.
Sal noticed she was leaning heavily on him. She probably wasn’t even aware of it. Without realizing it, he was practically running in his need to get her home, dragging Olivia along with him.
“Sal.” The word came out on a pant as she struggled to keep up.
“Sorry.” He slowed his pace.
Sal bundled her into the truck, slid into the driver’s side and drove to her place. Once they’d reached her townhome, he lifted her into his arms, carried her to the front porch and juggled to find her keys in her briefcase. Inside, he laid her on the sofa.
He then set about making her a cup of tea. He wished he knew how to offer comfort, but he had no words. She’d watched her boss, her mentor, her friend die in front of her and he didn’t know the right words to say, the right things to do.
“Sorry. I’m not much good with the ‘tea-and-sympathy’ thing.”
“You’re plenty good. Sit. And maybe...”
“What?” he prompted.
“Maybe you could hold me,” she said in a small voice.
That he could do.