Chapter 10

They all resented her. Eve worked hard not to show her feelings, but she was deeply hurt to hear that every single one of her colleagues had gone to Roger to express their anger over her promotion.

Meanwhile, they'd all said nice things to her face. Told her how proud they were of her success. Smiled as they'd congratulated her. Exuberantly praised her innovative approach to research.

Lies. It was all a pack of lies, and she felt sick at the thought of that resentment possibly bubbling up like molten lava into murder.

No, despite Roger's description of Nick Strong and his ridiculous lawsuit, she still had trouble believing it. Or maybe she just didn't want to. She'd worked with these men every day for the past five years. Years!

She pressed a hand to her chest as if that would ease the pain in her heart.

"Is there anything else?" Roger asked, interrupting her train of thought. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I have work to do."

"So do I." The words snapped out of her mouth before she could stop them. "But I'm not able to work since someone keeps trying to kill me."

Roger's expression was pained. "I know how hard this must be for you, Eve. And I'm sorry. But I'm sure the police will get to the bottom of this very soon."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Being angry with Roger wouldn't help. She supposed it was good of him to stand by his decision in the face of adversity. It would have been easier for him to promote one of the others in that good old boys' network that still existed in the upper echelon of the world of academia.

"I need the addresses and phone numbers for each of Eve's colleagues," Grayson said. "Then we'll leave you to it."

"Oh, well, I don't know," Roger hedged. "I don't think I'm supposed to give out personal information."

"That's fine. I'll get a subpoena." Grayson thumbed the screen of his phone. "Joe? I need a subpoena..."

"Never mind, I'll give you the information." Roger capitulated with a shrug. "If Eve had access to her computer, she'd be able to find it as well."

"Joe, I'll call you back." Grayson ended the connection as Roger turned to his office.

A few minutes later, Roger handed Joe a sheet of paper. "I know you have to look at everyone, but I honestly don't think anyone who works at the research institute would do something this drastic."

"Clearing them is the best way to prove that, isn't it?" Eve said, wondering when she'd started sounding like a cop. "Thanks for being honest with me."

"I'm sorry," Roger said.

"Me too." She turned away, suddenly anxious to get out of there.

Grayson caught her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She managed a smile as Roger walked them to the door. It seemed overkill now to know that Jina was out there somewhere watching the place.

"Roscoe? We're ready," Grayson said into his phone.

Less than a minute later, Roscoe's SUV came around the corner to pull up in front of Roger's home. Grayson held the back passenger door open for her so she could climb in. Then he jumped up front.

"I'll let Jina know she's off duty." Grayson texted her via his phone. "I have a list of names and addresses of possible suspects. We just learned these men were upset over Eve's promotion. We'll need to vet them all, but I'm most interested in Associate Professor Nick Strong."

"What's his address?" Roscoe asked. "We can head there now. But you'll want to let Jina know to head over too."

"You're right. No more surprises." Grayson's thumbs flew over his phone screen.

Her stomach clenched as Grayson rattled off the information after texting Jina. She wasn't sure she was ready to face Nick. Or any of her colleagues for that matter. But she didn't protest.

Would Nick be surprised to see them? Would he admit to threatening a lawsuit over her promotion or pretend Roger was exaggerating?

And why did her heart ache so badly over hearing how much her male colleagues resented her? She'd known going into this line of work that being a female researcher in a male-dominated profession wouldn't be easy. She wasn't the first woman to succeed in a way that threatened men.

Or the last.

Still, it hurt. Mostly because she honestly hadn't known. In a way, she wished she still didn't.

"Strong's house is only two miles from yours, Eve." Grayson twisted in his seat to face her. "Did you know that?"

"No. We don't have that sort of relationship." She knew now she didn't have any semblance of a relationship with Nick or the others. "I've never been to his place, and to my knowledge, he's never been to mine."

Grayson held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Hopefully, he'll be home so we can talk."

"Yes, I'm sure he'll be there." At least that's what she'd be doing, working in her home office if going to the institute was unavailable.

Unless, of course, Nick was out somewhere trying to track her so he could kill her.

No. She pushed that negative thought out of her mind. There was no sense in thinking like that. Not without proof.

Yet she couldn't seem to shake the feeling of impending doom.

The trip didn't take long. She noticed Roscoe drove slowly past the house first without stopping. It was a blue and white ranch home, bigger than she'd have expected. She reminded herself that Nick was roughly five years her senior, although he wasn't married as far as she knew.

Divorced? She may have heard something about that. To her shame, she hadn't paid much attention to the personal lives of her colleagues. They always discussed research since no one else really understood their world the way they did.

Now she could admit that may have been a mistake. In more ways than one. Not only was she open about her research, but she hadn't bothered to get to know her colleagues outside of the lab.

"Park a few blocks away," Grayson directed.

"You'all planning to sneak up on the place in broad daylight?" Roscoe drawled.

"No, I just want to give Jina time to get into position." Grayson's tone sounded defensive. "And yeah, okay, maybe I don't want to broadcast our presence just yet."

"I hope Roger didn't call ahead to warn him," she said with a sigh. "Although it's not like you're going to arrest him."

"Not yet," Grayson said. "But if we can find something to link him to the bombing, I will gladly slap cuffs on him."

She had no doubt about that. It would be easier all the way around if Nick was the guilty one. Grayson and Roscoe could throw him in jail, and she could move on with her life. Her boring, myopic life.

For some reason, digging back to her research didn't hold the same appeal as it had prior to all of this. Her eyes had been opened to the outside world, and it suddenly hit her that her life would never be the same.

Because she wasn't the same person she was prior to the explosion in her office.

She lifted her gaze to the blue sky outside her passenger window. This was all a part of God's plan. She only hoped she'd have the strength and courage to move forward in the way God expected of her.

* * *

Grayson couldn't helpglancing frequently at Eve. He knew she was still struggling with the information her boss had shared about her colleagues. Roscoe must have noticed because the Texas transplant arched a brow.

Ignoring his teammate, he stared down at his phone, waiting to hear back. It was a long couple of minutes before his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

"Okay, Jina is in place. She's in a car parked on the next block over with a view of the front door between two residences." He glanced up at Roscoe. "You're right about the fact that we can't sneak up in broad daylight. I'd like Eve to stay here while I go up and talk to him."

"No, I'm coming too," Eve said, interrupting him. "He's my colleague."

He suppressed a sigh. "I don't think he's going to admit anything if you're standing next to me." He turned to look at her. "Please, Eve, I'm asking you to trust me on this."

She didn't like it but slowly nodded. "Fine. I'll stay put."

"Thank you." He was relieved he didn't have to force the issue. "Keep her safe, Roscoe. Give me a few minutes to walk over."

"Will do." Roscoe gave a curt nod.

Grayson slid out of the SUV before Eve could say anything more. He walked up the street and then went around the block, sweeping his gaze over the area. He had to assume Nick Strong was armed and dangerous.

It was always better to be safe than sorry.

As he approached the blue and white ranch-style house, he didn't see any movement from inside. He strode up to the front door and knocked.

No answer.

Feeling a sense of déjà vu—this was exactly how things had started at Andrew Thomas's condo—he knocked again. Then leaned on the doorbell. He could hear the chimes of the bell pealing inside.

Still no answer.

He gave it a full five minutes before pulling out his phone. He had programmed all the contact numbers of Eve's colleagues into his phone. He called Nick Strong's number, hoping the guy would answer.

But he didn't. After three rings, the call went to voice mail. He pondered that for a moment, imagining the guy ignoring a call from an unknown number.

He sent a text identifying himself as Officer Grayson Clark requesting a moment of his time.

There was still no response.

Glancing around, he wondered how many of Strong's neighbors were watching him. He didn't see anyone peering out their windows, but he had to assume there was at least one nosy Nellie out there. He moved to the closest window and looked inside. At least this time he didn't see anything resembling a dead body.

He next moved to the garage, going around the corner to take a quick look into that window too. There was no vehicle inside.

Having found nothing suspicious to warrant a forced entry, he turned away. Talk about a massive letdown. He'd hoped to interview Strong sooner rather than later.

Lifting his phone, he called Roscoe. "I got nothing. No vehicle in the garage, no response at the door. He hasn't taken my call or responded to my text."

"We'll be there in a few," Roscoe assured him.

He lowered the phone, texted Jina with the disappointing results that she could no doubt see for herself from her position, then waited for Roscoe. When the black SUV pulled up, he quickly slid inside.

"I think it may help if I call him," Eve said. "He might respond to me, alone."

"No way." He turned to scowl at her. "He needs to know the police are involved."

"He already knows that since you texted and called, right?" She held his gaze. "He may respond better to me."

"I agree, let her make the call," Roscoe said. "It makes sense that he would prefer talking to her over a cop."

He wrestled with a flash of anger. Roscoe could at least pretend to be on his side. "You can call him but do not even think about setting up a meeting alone with the guy."

She shrugged and pulled out her disposable phone. Then she asked, "What's the number?"

He gave it to her. She made the call, and again, Nick Strong didn't pick up. "Nick, it's Eve. I'm worried about you after that explosion in the research institute. I'm wondering if we're all in danger and was hoping I could talk to you. Please call me back at this number, thank you." She sighed. "I guess we'll see if he calls me back."

Maybe it would work if Strong did call her. She could set up a meeting, but Grayson would be the one to face the guy rather than Eve.

"Now what?" Roscoe asked. "You want to go down that list?"

He hesitated, considering their options. "Yes. Maybe the word will get out that these interviews are no big deal."

"Next address," Roscoe said, glancing at him expectantly.

They went to Geoff Abbott's house. This time, he didn't bother to send Jina ahead of time, telling her to head back to the precinct instead to update Joe and Rhy.

As it turned out, Geoff Abbott wasn't home either, which he found suspicious. He turned in his seat to face Eve. "Do your colleagues spend a lot of time together outside of work? Maybe have a favorite hangout?"

"I don't know." Eve stared down at her hands. "I know that sounds awful of me, but I honestly don't know much about their lives outside of the lab."

He found that strange; he and the rest of the team knew a lot about each other. Maybe except for Roscoe, who was the newest member of the team, having just joined them in January to replace Kyle, their murdered teammate.

"I think Allan is married," Eve abruptly said. "Or at least he has a photo on his desk of him with a pretty woman about his same age."

"Allan Ballard?" He double-checked his list and remembered how Ballard was one of the guys in the elevator when the bomb went off. "Okay, you don't happen to have the wife's name, do you?"

"No." She stared down at her hands again. "I feel like a failure. I don't know much about any of their personal lives."

"Hey, you're not a failure." He reached back to rest his hand on her knee. "You're brilliantly focused. You said it yourself, people's lives will be changed because of your research. Don't minimize that."

"I'll try not to." She didn't look reassured.

"Maybe if you take your time, a few more details will come back to you. And if not," he hastily added, "it's okay. That's what interviews are for, to gather information. Sooner or later we're bound to find one of these guys at home."

"It's no wonder they didn't like me." She sighed, then covered his hand with hers. "I appreciate your kind words. All I can do now is to move forward, right?"

"Exactly." He smiled.

She released his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'll keep trying to come up with details I may have deep in my subconscious."

"That's my girl," he said, turning back to glance out the window. "Are we close yet to Ballard's house?"

"No, that one happens to be in White Gull Bay," Roscoe said. "Probably not too far from Steele and Harper's place."

"Okay. Can't hurt to check it out." Even though logically he knew any of these coworkers could be responsible, he kept going back to Nick Strong and his anger management issues. Well, to be honest, it was only one anger management documented with an arrest more than fifteen years ago, but from what he could tell from Roger Cannon's body language, the guy had not held back while loudly voicing his opinion of Eve's promotion. And her, what had he called it? Oh yeah, ridiculously overrated research.

To his surprise, Allan Ballard answered the door when he knocked. Eve had agreed to wait with Roscoe again, although he wasn't sure that allowing Roscoe time alone with Eve was smart on a personal level. Oddly, he didn't like the idea of Roscoe flirting with her.

"Dr. Ballard? I'm MPD police officer Grayson Clark. Do you have a minute to talk about the bomb at the research institute?"

Ballard looked just like what Grayson would imagine a frumpy professor would. He wore a baggy T-shirt paired with flannel pants and bedroom slippers. The guy was likely only in his early forties, but his pale skin and thinning hair and thick glasses made him look older.

"I already gave the police and the arson investigator my statement." Ballard did not invite him in. "I have nothing more to add."

"Did you resent Eve Shaw enough blow up her office and her research notes?"

His blunt question rocked the guy back on his heels. "What? Of course not. That's a horrible thing to say."

"You know that bomb was meant for her, though, right?" Grayson pressed.

Allan's eyes widened. "No, I had no idea. Everyone has assumed this was the work of one of those nut job groups."

"Everyone? Who exactly have you spoken to?"

Now Allan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "We've all discussed this terrible event. Those first few hours after it happened, I was getting one call after another."

"Okay, if that's the case, why didn't any of you call Eve?" Grayson wasn't buying his story. Oh, he didn't doubt they'd all been talking, but he felt certain they'd all known Eve was the target. Hence the reason they hadn't reached out to her.

"Who are you again?" Allan demanded, narrowing his gaze. "Why aren't you in uniform?"

"I'm working undercover." He flashed his badge. "I would like to know why none of Eve's colleagues reached out to her after the bombing."

There was a long moment before Allan grudgingly replied, "Roger said he'd spoken to her and that she was okay. We didn't want to bother her. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work." Allan stepped back to close the door.

He could have forced his way in but chose not to. For one thing, he could not imagine this guy carrying a weapon and shooting at them. Sure, he might be smart enough to make a bomb, but setting it, lying in wait, and then pulling the trigger? That was a stretch.

Dejected, he headed back down the sidewalk to the road. He waved at Roscoe who was parked just a few car lengths down the street.

"You really need to let me talk to my coworkers," Eve said the moment he'd gotten seated.

"Maybe." He couldn't deny he hadn't gotten much out of Allan Ballard. "Three down, two more to go."

"We haven't met with Nick Strong or Geoff Abbott yet," Roscoe pointed out.

"I know, but we can try to take care of the last two. I could be wrong, but I don't see Allan Ballard as a threat."

"I could have told you that," Eve said in exasperation. "Allan won't even walk up a few flights of stairs. He claims he has bad knees, but I think he's just out of shape. He eats a lot of junk food, and his idea of exercise is walking into work from the parking lot."

He realized he should have asked her opinion ahead of time. "Okay, I hear you. And I agree with your assessment."

"Of all my colleagues, he's probably the one with the most legitimate complaint," she went on. "His research is related to tracing DNA-related cancer genes and could be viewed as more important than what I'm doing."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," he protested. "Your boss promoted you because of the quality of your work, Eve. That's the most important thing to remember."

"That and my five-million-dollar grant," she said with a sigh.

Yeah, he couldn't exactly argue thepoint. No matter what field of work a person pursued, money talked.

As Roscoe was about to pull away, another car came down the street from the opposite direction. He tensed and reached for his buddy's arm. "Incoming."

"I see it." The sun shone brightly off the windshield, so he couldn't get a good view of the driver. But in moments, the car drove past and pulled into a nearby driveway.

"False alarm," he said with a rueful smile. "Let's head to the next house." He consulted his notes. "Larry Kimmel."

"He's more physically fit than Allan, but not by a lot," Eve said. "I think he's divorced, but I can't honestly say for sure. Could be that Geoff is the one who is divorced."

"Of all the men you work with, are any of them particularly close friends?"

She frowned. "I don't know. They've never indicated to me that they're friendly outside the lab. But Geoff and Nick are the closest in age. And out of the five associate professors, they're probably the most agile—going to the gym, keeping in shape, that kind of thing."

He made a mental note to check out the local pubs near the research institute. It would not surprise him to learn that Nick Strong and Geoff Abbott attended the same gym and hung out for drinks after work. Especially if they were two single guys.

What he truly did not understand was why neither of the single guys had asked Eve out. She was smart and beautiful, but maybe they didn't want to date a colleague. Or maybe they just didn't like women.

No one was home at Larry Kimmel's home either. His enthusiasm over having the names and addresses began to wane. The last name on the list, Jason Lamont, was home with his wife and a screaming toddler in the throes of a meltdown. The guy's eyes were red-rimmed and bleary with lack of sleep.

"Any word on when we can get back to work?" Jason had asked, a hopeful note in his voice. It was clear the guy was anxious to get away from his wife and child.

"No, I'm afraid not." He almost felt sorry for Lamont, knowing Steele and Harper had similar bad nights with their daughter, Amelia. "How much do you resent Eve for her promotion?"

"Huh?" Jason blinked, then flushed. "Oh, you must have spoken to Roger. Look, I like Eve, but I have a family to feed." He gestured behind him. "The extra money would have come in handy, you know?"

"Yeah. Thanks for your time." He turned away, mentally crossing both Jason and Allan off the list of suspects. Two down, but far too many to go.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he jogged back to where Roscoe and Eve waited. "I don't think Jason is our guy; he's got a wife and toddler."

"He does?" Eve's voice reeked of surprise. "How could I have missed that?"

"Maybe he doesn't talk about his family at work." He wasn't sure what to say, how to make her feel better about learning this information about her colleagues. He couldn't see Jason following Eve with a gun, leaving his wife home alone with the baby.

"I never saw a family photo in his office," she muttered to herself. "I would have said something like, hey, nice family."

"Try not to stress." His gaze narrowed on the dark-gray SUV driving toward them. The same color and model as the vehicle he'd noticed outside Ballard's home.

"Hit it!" he ordered Roscoe just as the vehicle slowed. "Eve, get down!"

The words barely left his mouth when her passenger window shattered beneath the force of gunfire. Roscoe hit the gas hard, sending them lurching away from the scene.

Yet Grayson knew one well-placed slug in their gas tank would prevent them from getting very far. He pulled his weapon, lowered his window, and fired back at the gunman, hoping to hold them off just long enough for Roscoe to make their escape.