03 - Organized Grime (3 page)

I closed my eyes a moment.
Lord, what kind of monster would do something like this?

I opened my eyes again as an ambulance screamed onto the scene. In the distance, I spotted Parker on his cell phone again and the two other suits—Wilkerson and Stephens, I think—chatted with police officers. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my puffy coat, just then noticing how my fingers felt like ice cubes.

Everything seemed surreal, like something out of a movie. Only this movie wouldn’t be over and I wouldn’t return to life as always when I stepped from the theater. Tragedy had occurred. Lives would be changed by this. Certainly the landscape of the city had been.

If the building had been one other than Harrison Developers, I might have wondered if this was an act of terrorism. The people around me wondered that also.

“Is this another 9-11?” someone behind me whispered.

“A holy jihad maybe. I knew an attack would happen on American soil again. I just knew it,” a female responded.

“Why would someone hate America so much?” still someone else whispered.

If I had to bet, this wasn’t your traditional terrorism. If anything, it was eco-terrorism.

Again, Sierra’s face flashed through my mind. I desperately hoped my friend had nothing to do with this, that people had witnessed her this evening at some march for animal rights. I’d even take one of her why-people-are-stupid stories over this.

Chills raced up my spine but not from the cold. I still had that feeling of being watched. I turned and scanned the crowd but saw no one who looked particularly villainous. Mostly the crowd consisted of college kids who’d probably been out clubbing, a few businessmen, a man walking his bulldog, a teenage girl standing with a camera around her neck.

Could the person who’d done this be standing in the crowd right now? Were they watching their destruction unfold? We’d read case studies about this in one of my forensic classes at college. The smartest criminals were those who blended in, which could mean anyone in this crowd could be guilty. I swung my gaze back to the devastation in front of me.

Parker spotted me and scowled. He purposefully strode my way. “What are you doing here, Gabby?”

“I had to see for myself.” I rubbed my nose, which felt like an ice cube. “It’s horrible, Parker. Heartbreaking that someone could be this twisted, and it’s a near miracle that no one was killed. Sierra could never do something like this.”

He scowled again and looked both ways. Finally, he pulled me over the police line where no one could hear our conversation. “If you know anything…”

“I don’t. I swear.” I dropped any pretenses and spoke from my heart. “All I know is that Sierra would never do this. She’s too smart and her heart is too big.”

“That’s not what the evidence is telling us. You’re a scientist. Think about it, Nancy Drew.” Nancy Drew dripped with sarcasm.

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to think about what the evidence was saying. Nor did I want Parker calling me by my old nickname. He’d lost that right when we broke up. This wasn’t the time for that discussion, though. I looked back at the building. “Is everyone okay? Was anyone inside?”

“No, thankfully everyone was gone for the day, except for a janitor but he wasn’t hurt. He was working in the other side of the building and managed to get out in time.” Parker rubbed his chin. “Do you have any idea where Sierra is?”

I shook my head. We’d been over this before, hadn’t we? “None. Why do you look like you don’t believe me?”

“Because I know how loyal you are.”

“Being loyal is a good thing.”

“Not if it impedes an investigation.”

“I’m not impeding an investigation. And while I’m thinking of it, you really don’t have to have one of your men following me.”

His gaze flickered. “I don’t.”

“Then what was up with the headlights on my way here?”

He shrugged. “You tell me. Have you gotten yourself in another pickle?”

I feigned shock. “I would never. And there was a car following me. I still think you put one of your men on me.”

“You should go home, Gabby.” His voice sounded weary and maybe a touch concerned.

“I’m fine.” I rubbed my arms again, thinking about how bitterly cold the weather felt.

“No, I mean you should go home in case Sierra comes back.”

I scowled. Of course. I should go home because that fit his plan, not because he was concerned about me. The exact reason we’d broken up. Maybe I would go home, but it wouldn’t be because Parker had told me to.  He placed his hand on my elbow and led me back to the other side of the police line.

“There’s nothing to see here,” Parker growled.

Did he say that to me or to the crowd or both?

I took one last glance at the building, one that had once stood like an urban masterpiece on this busy corner. All it had taken was one little device called a bomb to cause the whole structure to crumble.

I decided to get out of the cold and go home. I’d return to my original plan of snuggling under my blanket and doing happy feet air dances. Staring at these ruins would do me no good.

Back in my car, I noticed those headlights behind me again. If it wasn’t one of Parker’s comrades, then who was driving that car? And should I even go home and show whoever it was where I lived? Or maybe I was beginning to lose it, imagining all of this.

I swerved to the left, taking a side street. I held my breath, watching the car behind me. The sedan continued straight.

I slowed down, shaking my head and chuckling. Maybe I
was
losing it.

I circled the block until I pulled up to the old Victorian that had been cut up into five little apartments. Home sweet home.

When I stepped inside, I couldn’t help but think about Sierra. The battle raged inside me. Was she guilty or not? And why wasn’t she home yet? It was, I checked my watch, past midnight. The girl should be home by now. She was not a night owl, by any stretch of the imagination. Without sleep, she turned into Mrs. Cranky Pants.

I stared at Sierra’s door to my left. I had a key to her place, and I’d never used it before. How would she feel about me going into her apartment? In this situation, I think she’d be just fine with it.

I fingered her key on my oversized ring. I was going to do it. I just needed to check inside her place to make sure everything was okay, to make sure there were no signs that something terrible had happened to her. I was doing this to look out for her best interests, not to snoop. If something was wrong, Sierra would thank me for this.

I slipped her key into the lock. The door clicked open. I pushed past the beads that my friend had strung from her door frame. Immediately, the scent of incense hit me. And she’d left her whale music playing in the background.

Strange, very strange.

I closed the door behind me and scanned the room. Everything appeared to be in place. There were no signs of struggle, though the music and earthy-smelling sage incense made me think she’d left in a hurry. Why would she leave in a hurry?

Because she wanted to escape the authorities before they caught her maybe?

What kind of friend was I, questioning Sierra’s innocence? Friends didn’t question friends like this.

I’d just take a quick peruse through her place to make sure everything was okay, then I’d leave and mind my own business.

Like I ever minded my own business.

I quickly checked her bedroom, where everything was in place. I ignored the images of injured animals that plastered her walls. Apparently, those pictures compelled her to fight even harder for animal’s rights. Maybe it was the same reasoning that caused Christians to hang crosses on their walls, a reminder of Christ’s suffering and our need for a life change.

Her bathroom looked as clean as ever. I even checked her closets. All clear.

There was no sign that a killer lived here.

I’d leave and go back to my evening.

As I breezed through the living room, a paper sticking out from under the couch caught my eye. I backed up and tugged it from under the cushions. It was probably nothing.

I caught my breath when I read the title of the paper packet.

“Building Bombs and How to Use Them. Published by the National Federation for a Cleaner Earth.”

Holy schnikies. What had my friend gotten herself into?

Chapter Four

I shoved the papers under my arm and decided my best option was to simply escape Sierra’s apartment, go upstairs to my couch and sit dumbfounded there for a bit until reality sunk its sharp teeth into my hard head.

In my haste to evacuate, I didn’t even notice the looming figure stepping into my apartment building until I collided with him. The telltale papers in my arms scattered everywhere.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?”

I looked up and relief momentarily softened my uptight muscles as Riley came into view. He wore jeans, a sky blue sweater and a sporty black leather coat that accentuated his broad shoulders. His brown hair looked tousled, like the wind had whipped through it on his walk from the car. His blue eyes looked as piercing, yet soft as ever. At his feet sat a small black suitcase.

I was so glad to see him that I threw my arms around him. “Riley. You’re not supposed to be here.”

He wrapped his arms around me a moment before pulling back. His gaze searched mine a moment before he took a step back. “I heard we might be getting some snow so I decided to come home early. What’s going on?”

“Going on? What makes you think something is going on?”

He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. The suspicious look in your eyes as you snuck from Sierra’s apartment maybe?”

I decided to go with the truth. You knew the situation was serious when I abandoned my snarkiness in favor of acting mature instead. “I think Sierra’s in trouble. Big trouble. Trouble that I’m not sure I can help her out of.”

An amused sparkle lit his gaze. “Let me guess. But you’re going to try by stealing evidence?”

How’d he know? “Something like that.”

His eyes widened and he grasped the sides of my arms until I locked gazes with him. “I was kidding, Gabby. But I have the feeling you’re not. What’s going on?”

I nodded toward the floor. “Help me pick up these papers before the feds get back and then I’ll explain.”

He blanched. “The feds?”

“Long story.” I let out the breath I held, wondering if perhaps this was just an awful dream. I knew it wasn’t.

I couldn’t ignore the tinge of electricity that zapped me as our hands collided on the floor in my mad rush to pick up the papers I’d dropped. Riley had always had that effect on me, like it or not. I equate Riley to chocolate—a habit I try to break myself of, but my willpower is never quite strong enough. Nothing seemed to deter my heart from beating double-time whenever I saw him.

Riley paused and narrowed his eyes at a piece of paper in his hands. “Building Bombs and How to Use Them? What is this?”

If only I knew… “I don’t know but it doesn’t look good.”

“I’d say.” He sounded awfully lawyer-ish.

I paused—froze, really, as my conscience finally caught up with my impulsiveness. “I have to call the FBI.” My heart felt heavy as the words scattered from my mouth. I couldn’t betray my friend. There had to be another way…

“Why do you need to call the FBI?”

My gaze skittered up to his. “They think Sierra is responsible for the explosion downtown, as well as the fire at a housing development in Chesapeake.”

“What?” Surprise showed across Riley’s face, from his wide eyes to his gaping mouth.

I nodded. “It’s true. I can’t take these things and pretend they don’t exist. But I know Sierra didn’t do this, Riley. I know it.” I lowered my head. “I don’t know what to do.”

He took my hands, which were now trembling, causing the papers to clap together. “Let’s go talk first. I need to know what’s going on. All of it.”

We trudged upstairs to my apartment, and I spilled everything to Riley. He was just that kind of guy. The kind that I could easily share my entire heart with, if there was ever the proper invitation. But Riley was out of my league. I knew that. We were on different levels however you looked at it. Every day, I tried to kill that nagging bit of hope that remained in me concerning a relationship with him. Why was it that the things that were unobtainable were always the things people wanted the most?

Riley soaked in everything I told him, his gaze turning more serious by the moment. “You’re right. You do need to give this to the FBI. You don’t want to find yourself in trouble for taking potential evidence. But I’m with you about Sierra. She wouldn’t do this.”

“Then where is she? What if that Henry guy pulled her into the middle of something?”

“She’s smart, Gabby. This is all going to be okay. But if you get yourself implicated in any way, you won’t be of any help to her.”

Riley knew me all too well. Probably all of those times I’d almost gotten him killed along with me had made him a quick study.

The important thing at the moment was that he agreed with me. Sierra couldn’t be responsible for any of this. My racing heart slowed for a moment. It was going to be okay. Everything would be okay.

My phone jangled. I snatched it from the end table beside me and shoved it to my ear. “Hello?”

A crackle greeted me. Bad connection. “Hello?” I repeated.

“Gabby, it’s me.”

I sat up straight. I’d hardly recognized the quick, whispered voice. “Sierra?”

Riley leaned toward me, straining his ear toward the phone.

“Listen, I –” Static broke through. “…name’s Lydia.”

“Lydia? What about Lydia? Lydia who?”

Syllables of words broke through, but nothing I could make out.

“Sierra, I can’t understand you. What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I…Gabby—sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry about what—?”

Sierra didn’t answer. The phone line went dead.

I looked at Riley and bit back a frown. The bad feeling in my gut turned into an all-out disaster. What had Sierra gotten herself into?

Chapter Five