Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set Page 3

  Investigators had determined that the popular smoothie and drink shop had been where the bomb had been located. The explosion had not only gutted the business but had killed everyone who had been inside and also some people who had been outside on the sidewalk.

  “And what happened while you were in line?” Nick’s voice was gentle as he held Tammy’s gaze.

  “A man... A... Sorry. This is still hard to talk about. A man stepped over to me and whispered that Ed Sheeran was giving a free concert outside.” She coughed twice, as if the memory of that horrifying event had tightened her throat.

  “And so you ran outside.”

  Tammy nodded, her eyes still troubled. “If I hadn’t left when I did, I wouldn’t be here talking to you now. I was lucky that I just had minor injuries. The others...”

  Survivor’s guilt. Lara needed her to refocus.

  “Tell us more about the man,” Lara said gently. “What did he look like?”

  Tammy took a deep breath. “He was just an average guy wearing jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt. Oh, and he was wearing a baseball cap and mirrored aviator sunglasses.”

  Lara shot a quick glance at Nick. Mirrored sunglasses and a hat were a common denominator between the two survivors and their mystery “saviors.” Did it mean anything? It was just too early to know.

  “Could you tell what color his hair was?” Nick asked.

  Tammy frowned again. “Maybe brown? Yes, I’m fairly sure it was brown.”

  “And what about body type? Was he short or tall, thin or average?” Nick asked.

  “Just average on both counts,” Tammy replied.

  They continued to question her for another hour and a half and then got in the car to go back to headquarters.

  “We’ve got a young man who works in the financial district and a young woman who works as a clerk in a high-end health food store. On the surface there is absolutely no connection between the two,” Nick said, frustration evident in his tone. “They don’t know each other and they don’t travel the same paths or frequent the same places. Why in the hell were those two picked to be saved?”

  Lara frowned, her brain churning all the information around and around in her head. “It’s way too early to think about this perp being some kind of a savior. Maybe we’re trying to dig too deep. On the surface they’re both clean-cut with blond hair and blue eyes. Maybe we should look at the Aryan Brotherhood?”

  “If that’s the case, wouldn’t they have already claimed responsibility for the bombings and spewed out a bunch of their racist crap?”

  “Probably. What worries me most is what Victoria was afraid of, that it’s the work of a lone wolf and we don’t know whether he’s a radical extremist or something we haven’t seen before.”

  “Both their descriptions of the guy had common elements,” Nick said.

  “But, they also had some inconsistencies, brown hair versus blond and the guy was either tall and thin or average,” she replied.

  Once again she looked out the window, tension tightening the pit of her stomach and rising up to press hard against her chest. “There were three weeks between the 34th Street bombing and the one yesterday. Let’s just hope that’s not a timeline this person is married to, otherwise in three weeks a bomb is going to go off someplace else and we have no idea where that might be.”

  Chapter Three

  The team was gathered in the conference room awaiting a briefing from Victoria. Junior Agent James Walsh and his partner, Xander Harrington, stood talking together and Nick was in a corner speaking softly into his cell phone.

  Ty Jackson was seated at the table and he looked up from his cell phone as his partner, Jennifer Gulden, raced into the room and plopped down in a chair on his right...a chair that had remained empty out of respect for Ty’s former partner, Mei Wang.

  Lara held her breath.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ty snapped at Jennifer.

  The junior agent jumped up, eyes wide. “I’m sorry... I was afraid I’d be late and I... I wasn’t thinking.” She moved to sit in her usual spot on Ty’s left.

  Damn, Lara thought. There was already so much tension between Ty and Jennifer. This certainly didn’t help things.

  Still, these were Lara’s people. Each and every one of them had stood by her during some of the darkest, most painful hours of her life. They’d put their very lives on the line for her and they had become privy to some of her dark secrets. They had also seen her at her most vulnerable, much to her dismay.

  Victoria entered the room and everyone scrambled for a seat at the table. Lara was vaguely surprised when James sat next to her instead of next to Xander. Nick sat on the other side of her.

  “Just wanted to let you all know that for right now Homeland Security is taking the lead with all the other agencies working together. I’ll be reporting directly to Homeland.”

  There were several groans around the table. Whenever the agencies attempted to work together it only made things more difficult. Oftentimes the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing and information didn’t always trickle down to the right people.

  “So? What’ve you all got for me?” Victoria said and shot her gaze first to Xander.

  He raked a hand through his neatly styled blond hair and looked down at his notes. “We spent the morning chasing up early reports from the Crime Scene Unit. It’s a nightmare down there, and they’re still pulling in evidence from the scene. The bomb expert is refusing to make a ruling; but despite that it looks like it could be peroxide, just based on some preliminaries. Homeland is bitching about waiting and wants their own crime scene unit to take the lead on this.”

  Victoria next looked at Ty. Ty was one of the most attractive men Lara knew. He could pass as Shemar Moore’s brother. He was a funny, nice guy, but he could be tough as nails when he needed to be.

  “Jennifer and I spent the morning interviewing witnesses and everyone connected in any way to the precinct. We were looking for motive, but other than the obvious of somebody having an ax to grind against the police in general we’ve come up empty-handed, as well.”

  Nick gave the report of the interviews he and Lara had conducted. “Right now we can’t find a connection between the two survivors. They both had the same story, but their description of the man who told them about the free concerts was slightly different.”

  “So, it’s possible we have two saviors,” Ty replied.

  “Saviors isn’t the word I would use,” Lara retorted. “Whoever he is, it’s obvious he knew about the bombs so he must have put them there.”

  “Lara and Nick, I’ve made arrangements for you to meet with Grant Taylor. He’s one of the Agency’s leading experts on bombs. He’s waiting for you now at the site,” Victoria said.

  Nick frowned. “I’ve got a meet set with an informant in twenty minutes. There may be something he’s heard that hasn’t filtered through official channels yet. He’ll only meet with me alone,” Nick said.

  “I’ll go with Lara,” James volunteered.

  “That will work,” Victoria replied. “Xander, since James is going with Lara why don’t you coordinate with Christina. You can be cross-referencing the information on the two witnesses who like music so much, while Christina checks any social media platforms where they might have crossed paths. Jennifer and Ty, continue doing what you did this morning. We need answers, people.” She stood. “We’ll all meet back here at seven this evening.”

  With the meeting ended Lara left the room with James close at her heels. “Lara, I wanted to thank you. I reached out to the leadership training seminars at the Academy like you suggested, and told them I was interested in their postgrad behavioral science seminar. I think that there’s a chance I might get accepted. I really appreciate it. I’ve already learned so much from working with y
ou.”

  “I could teach you a lot more if you weren’t so hardheaded,” Lara said lightly as they walked to the parking garage.

  “I could learn a lot more if you weren’t so beautiful,” he replied.

  “Bite me, James,” she said, and a deep chuckle was his reply.

  Although James was still considered a junior agent, he’d made a name for himself two months ago by catching a serial killer who was holding a seven-year-old girl. James had been heralded as a hero and he’d earned the kudos.

  Lara admired his intelligence and drive to be a better agent. He was pleasant-looking enough with his hazel eyes and light brown hair and they enjoyed flirtatious banter that neither of them took seriously.

  Thankfully, as she drove back to the bomb site, James remained silent. Most of her team members knew by now that she wasn’t one for meaningless small talk.

  “Hopefully, Nick’s snitch will know something about what happened here,” he said when she angled for a parking space among the other official cars near the scene. “Maybe he’ll have the name of somebody who’s been buying up bomb-making supplies. Or his informant will know exactly who’s behind it.”

  “That would be nice,” she agreed. She blew her horn and flipped off a taxi driver who nearly took off her side view mirror. God, she hated driving in this city.

  “So, what do you think about this whisperer?” James asked.

  “He’s obviously got some sort of a God complex or something else going on,” she replied. “We just need to figure out if there is something special about those two people or if they were just randomly chosen. So far nothing extraordinary about them is popping.”

  “And if they were randomly chosen by him then it’s only going to make our jobs more difficult,” he replied.

  Finally they were parked and out of the car. The area outside the crime scene tape was still clogged with spectators and news reporters. The mayor and the New York City chief of police were holding a news conference in a secured area and there was still a sense of frenzied madness in the air.

  She and James flashed their creds to an officer guarding the perimeter and then ducked beneath the crime scene tape and began the search for Grant Taylor.

  The only difference in the scene between yesterday and today was that there were no wounded or dead bodies in the area and nothing was on fire. EMTs and firefighters would have worked long into the night to clear the area of the injured and dead. However, blood stained the street and sidewalk, a grim reminder of the annihilation that had taken place here.

  After asking a number of people for Grant, they finally found him with a cup of coffee in hand and seated on the curb just to the left of the destroyed police station.

  He appeared to be in his midforties. He might have been a handsome man if it wasn’t for the deep lines of exhaustion that cut down the sides of his face. Puffy bags beneath his gray eyes further spoke of a man who hadn’t seen any rest at all since the bomb had exploded the day before.

  “What have you got for us?” Lara asked after introductions had been made and Grant got to his feet.

  “Triacetonetriperodide and hexamethylene,” he said.

  “TATP,” Lara replied flatly.

  “Exactly.” Grant raked a hand through his shaggy dark hair. “Easy and cheap to make, dangerous to handle and it detonates very easily.”

  “Same as the 34th Street bombing,” Lara said.

  Grant nodded. “And also known as the Mother of Satan because of the volatility. Too bad the bomber didn’t blow himself up before being able to kill anyone else. Unfortunately it’s a favorite of extremist terrorists and homegrown bombers everywhere. All you need is some common household items like fingernail polish remover or hair coloring and a recipe that you can get off the damned internet.” His jaw tightened.

  “Any other specific clues yielded from the wreckage?” Lara was hoping for some sort of an identifying fingerprint, so to speak, that might point to a specific group or person that were already known to law enforcement. She knew bomb experts would be trying to discern not only what kind of bomb it was, but also how the bomb had been housed and the specific trigger device.

  “Nothing yet, but we still have a lot of work to do here.” He turned and looked back at the debris and his shoulders stiffened and then sagged slightly.

  “Anything else you can tell us to take back to our team?”

  He turned his gaze back to them. “Only that we believe the bomb was located somewhere under the main desk in the lobby.”

  “A perfect location to take out both officers and civilians, especially at noontime,” Lara said grimly. What kind of a sick bastard did something like this? A man who was taking selfies in front of the carnage?

  That reminded her to follow up with Officer Jason Brady about what the surveillance tapes might show. She had no idea whether it would be Homeland Security or NYPD poring over those tapes, but she knew experts would be eager to see if they could get a visual of the person or persons responsible for the bomb.

  Unfortunately she doubted that any surveillance tapes from within the police station itself had survived the blast.

  “I’ll be in touch with my final findings as soon as possible,” Grant said.

  “Thanks, we appreciate your time,” James replied.

  Grant nodded, downed the last of the coffee in his cup and then turned and walked away from them and back into what had been the police precinct that was now nothing more than a shell of rubble.

  “The news sources claimed that TATP was what was used in the Paris bombings,” James said. The most recent bombing had killed dozens of people and ISIS had immediately claimed responsibility.

  “Yeah, and in a hundred other places over the last couple of months,” Lara replied. “The whole world is on fire, but I don’t want it here in my city. I’ll call Victoria and see if she wants us to remain out here or head back into headquarters. Hopefully Nick got something from his informant that will tell us more.”

  She turned to head back to the car and that’s when she saw him...the selfie guy in the blue shirt, only today he had on a red shirt. He was once again taking smiling selfies in front of the wreckage.

  “James, the man in the red shirt. I think he may be a person of interest. We need to take him into custody but without making a scene,” she said urgently as she took off running. She was like a bull, and the red shirt was a matador’s cape that enflamed her.

  Like the day before, she shoved and pushed people out of the way in her effort to get to him. She couldn’t let him escape as he had the day before. This time she had to get him in handcuffs. It was possible he knew something about the bombing. Hell, it was quite possible he’d detonated the damned device.

  She knew the moment he saw her coming. His smile slipped and his eyes widened and then he turned and ran. “Not this time, you bastard,” she muttered as she raced after him.

  She was vaguely aware of James veering off from her and running to the left. Hopefully they could corral and catch the man before he got away.

  Thankfully the red shirt was like a beacon in the crowd and she kept her gaze focused solely on it even as the man darted in and out of people. She wasn’t going to let him get away this time. No way...no how.

  She cursed roundly as she contorted to stop from running right into a baby carriage. The mother squeaked in surprise as Lara barely slid by her and her bright pink buggy. Who in the hell brought a baby to a scene like this?

  If the man wasn’t guilty of anything then why in the hell was he running from them? Only the guilty or people with secrets ran from the police. Closer and closer she got to him, her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

  When she was close enough she launched herself at his back and rode him down to the ground. Her elbow and knee slammed to the sidewalk, pissing her off as she quickly scrambl
ed to her feet.

  “Get up,” she said angrily and yanked the man up by the back of his shirt.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” he exclaimed. “What is the matter with you?” He whirled around to face her.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” Lara said with narrowed eyes. She was vaguely aware of two uniforms coming to stand nearby.

  He stared at her with a slightly mocking grin on his face and didn’t comply with her order. James stepped up next to her.

  The beginning of a headache thumped at her temples. Her elbow hurt like hell from slamming it into the ground and she was fresh out of patience.

  She pulled her gun. “I said turn around. Now.”

  James pulled his gun, as well.

  The man held her gaze and continued to grin. Oh, she definitely couldn’t wait to get this creep back to headquarters and into an interrogation room.

  Just the two of them...and she would definitely wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

  Chapter Four

  Nick stood in a narrow alley behind a less-than-popular Chinese restaurant, the stench of a nearby overflowing Dumpster wafting toward him on the cool September breeze. His informant was late...as usual.

  He leaned with his shoulder against the back of the brick building, hoping that when Sammy showed he’d have something concrete to give up concerning the bomb.

  As he waited his thoughts drifted to Lara Grant, as they had done far too often in the last year. She was the hottest, sexiest, most complicated and aggravating woman he’d ever known in his life.

  A year ago they’d been in a secret relationship of sorts while she’d gone through hell on the Moretti case. When that had finally been wrapped up she’d asked for space and he’d reluctantly given it to her.

  But there hadn’t been a day that had passed that he hadn’t wanted her. And there were times when he caught her looking at him with those sultry green eyes of hers and suspected she missed indulging in their very hot sexual chemistry, too.