Chapter 12

Reading Grayson's expression, Eve shook her head. "Dave isn't involved. Why would he be?"

"It all comes down to your research, remember?" he pointed out.

"Just because Dave is a molecular biologist, too, doesn't mean he's in competition with me," she protested. "And even if he was, I cannot see Dave setting bombs and detonating them."

"You haven't wanted to believe it was anyone close to you," Grayson said softly. "And I understand that. It's not easy to look at people you've been working with for years as the enemy. But you need to keep your mind open to all possibilities."

It was hard to argue with that, but she still couldn't see it. Then she remembered how Roger had told her all her colleagues had been upset at her promotion. Every. Single. One.

She stared down at her half-eaten salad, feeling sick. How would she face them once this nightmare was over? Return to business as usual, acting as if she didn't know?

Nope. She was not doing that. It would be best to clear the air, confront them one by one about their feelings. She wouldn't apologize for being promoted, but maybe she could do better in being a friend. Maybe join them in after-work activities. If she was welcome.

"O'Dell's Pub." She didn't realize she'd said the words out loud until Grayson turned to stare at her. She flushed. "I'm sorry, I just remembered that Nick once mentioned O'Dell's Pub. It's not far from Trinity Medical Center. I believe many of the hospital staff go there after work."

"You're just remember this now?" Grayson asked with a frown.

"I know, I'm sorry." She felt like an idiot. "You asked earlier if the guys went somewhere after work, and I said I didn't know. But I think Nick mentioned O'Dell's. I never paid much attention to what they were talking about unless it involved research."

"It's okay." Roscoe offered a reassuring smile. "At least we know now when we can still do something about it."

"We should swing by the place," Grayson said. "Just to see if there's a gunmetal-gray SUV with a bullet hole sitting in the parking lot."

"I highly doubt either of these guys would be that careless," Roscoe said. "But it's worth a drive by."

"I'll call Melrose," Grayson said. "We'll get license plate numbers of Strong's and Abbott's personal vehicles from him."

"Don't forget Larry Kimmel," she added. "If we're going to check, may as well do all three."

"Good idea." Grayson shot her a smile, and she was relieved he wasn't upset with her. Why did her brain work like this? It was one of the reasons she had sticky notes everywhere. A thought would pop into her mind long after she'd read some article. Sometimes days later. Almost as if her brain had a longer than normal processing time.

It was both a curse and a blessing.

A blessing because even with the delayed response, she had been able to do great things with her research. But in this situation, it would have been nice to have remembered about O'Dell's sooner.

She took another bite of her salad, listening as Grayson copied license plate numbers down on a napkin.

"Thanks, Gabe. Appreciate the intel. Oh, one more thing. Will you please run the license plate registration for a Dave Firestein in Madison? I need the make and model of that one too." There was a brief pause as Grayson waited. He munched a fry as he waited. "Great. Thanks." He slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Unfortunately, none of our suspects drives a gunmetal-gray SUV."

"We always figured it would be rental." Roscoe looked thoughtful. "You know, I think that may be one way to get the information on the rentals. Call each company to see if anyone returned a vehicle with a bullet hole. We wouldn't need a warrant for that."

"I like it," Grayson agreed. "I'm sure they'd be willing to give us that information, especially as it's indicative of a crime. I can work on that when we reach the safe house, after we do the drive-by of O'Dell's Pub."

"I can do the drive-by," Roscoe offered. He used his phone to take a picture of the napkin Grayson had scribbled on, "while you and Eve head to the safe house."

Eve sipped her water watching Grayson. The way he hesitated told her he wanted to be there. Clearly, sitting on the sidelines while others worked the investigation wasn't in his DNA.

"We'll go together. It shouldn't take long," Grayson said. He didn't look at her. "We won't be in harm's way. If we spot one of the vehicles, we'll call Rhy and have him send a couple of squads pursuant to the BOLO."

"Okay." Roscoe shrugged. "Suit yourself."

They finished their meal, the guys eating with a sense of urgency. She wished she'd remembered O'Dell's Pub earlier. Grayson paid their server with cash, leaving a nice tip, then rose.

"I'd like a bathroom break," she said in a low voice.

"Not a problem." Grayson turned toward the restrooms. "We'll all take advantage of the facilities."

Ten minutes later, they were outside climbing into the two rental SUVs. The temperature inside was stuffy, so she opened her window. Grayson did the same. His expression was somewhat grim as he backed out of the parking lot. O'Dell's was in the opposite direction of Ravenswood, and she could tell he was wrestling with his decision to go with Roscoe.

To be honest, she wasn't upset by the delay in getting to the safe house. Being alone with Grayson wouldn't be easy. She kept remembering their brief yet sizzling kiss.

One he'd shown no interest in repeating, much to her disappointment.

She settled back in her seat, scanning the scenery. Why hadn't she spent time enjoying the warm summer days? Her research was important, but she was keenly aware of the saying that all work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy. Or in her case, Jane a dull girl.

She was dull. Boring. One-dimensional in that she was always thinking of her research.

No wonder Andrew had found someone else. Bambi, she thought with a snort. He could have done better.

Now he was dead. Murdered in his own home.

Doing her best to push the depressing thoughts aside, she focused on the upcoming drive-by. Maybe this would work out. They'd find one or more of the cars in the parking lot, call Rhy's team to bring them to the station. Under pressure, they'd confess to their misdeeds, and the danger would be over. She'd head home and pick up her dull and boring life.

She silently promised to make changes, to broaden her horizons so to speak. Maybe take a short vacation. Something she'd never done.

And how pathetic was that?

"Roscoe? There are two parking lots. I'll take the one to the north of the building. You take the one across the street."

"Got it," Roscoe replied.

She was surprised at how busy the parking lot was during the daytime. Didn't these people work? Or maybe they were taking an extended lunch hour. She sat patiently as Grayson scoured the parking lot for one of four vehicles.

"I found one!" Grayson's excited tone had her searching for the vehicle in question. A white SUV with a license plate that started with AWO. He keyed the phone. "Roscoe? I have the vehicle owned by Geoff Abbott."

"Okay, sit tight. I'm still searching."

Grayson circled the parking lot and pulled into an empty spot at the end of the row. From this angle, she could just barely see the back end of Geoff's SUV.

The minutes dragged by slowly. Then Roscoe called. "I don't have anything over here."

"Okay, I'll call Rhy. Could be that Abbott and Strong drove together." As he reached up to disconnect the call, the brake lights of the SUV flashed.

"Did you see that?" Grayson asked. "I didn't see anyone inside, did you?"

"No." As she spoke, the white SUV backed out of the parking spot. She wondered if Geoff had managed to get into the vehicle while Grayson was circling the parking lot to find a place to park. "He's leaving!"

"I see that." He immediately put the gear shift in reverse and backed out too. Then he called Roscoe. "Abbott is leaving; I'm following him now. Call Rhy and then fall into place behind us."

As he spoke, Grayson shifted into drive and slowly followed Geoff's white SUV. She craned her neck to see if there was more than one person inside.

"I think he's alone," she said to Grayson, who was concentrating on following the car without being too obvious. He kept a decent amount of space between their two vehicles. At first she was worried they'd lose him, but then she noticed Roscoe's rental SUV coming out of the parking lot across the street.

Between the two of them, she felt certain they could stay on him. Yet as Geoff drove off, she couldn't help wondering if he was the one who'd bombed her office and taken shots at her.

Hopefully, they would have those answers and more once the other officers took him to the precinct for questioning. She believed in God's grace. Believed He was watching over them.

She silently prayed that God would guide them, keep them safe, and bring an end to the danger very soon.

* * *

Grayson was kickinghimself for not realizing Abbott had gotten in the car. Either the guy had been in there all along and he'd missed him, or he'd sneaked into the vehicle while he was circling the parking lot.

Either way, the near miss was unacceptable. He needed to stop being distracted by Eve and keep his mind on task. Before he managed to get one or both of them killed.

And where was Abbott's buddy, Nick Strong? For the past couple of hours, he'd wondered if the two of them had worked together in the plan to get rid of Eve Shaw. It would explain a lot, especially how they seemed to keep finding them.

The white SUV abruptly turned and headed onto the interstate, which was the opposite direction from where he lived. He keyed Roscoe's number on the screen. "Do you see this? Where is he going?"

"I'm not sure, but we can't lose him. Rhy's sending Flynn and Cassidy," Roscoe explained. "They'll be joining us soon."

"Tell them no lights and sirens," Grayson said. "I don't want to spook him. He could be heading to a meeting with Strong, Kimmel, or even Firestein."

"Roger that. I'll let them know," Roscoe agreed.

"If he goes all the way to Madison, we'll know he's meeting with Firestein." He glanced at Eve, who hadn't said much in the past few minutes.

"I thought of that possibility too." Her voice was quiet, as if she had finally accepted that one or more of her colleagues were likely responsible for these relentless attacks. "I guess we'll know soon enough."

"Yeah." He didn't like knowing he was putting her in harm's way yet again. Back at the restaurant, he'd known the right thing to do was to take Eve to the safe house, leaving the pub for Roscoe to deal with. Yet if he had done that, they may have missed Abbott's leaving.

He found himself silently praying that God would help him protect Eve. He needed all the support he could get.

Please, Lord Jesus, don't let me fail her!

Keeping track of the white SUV wasn't that difficult. It seemed as if Abbott was oblivious to his SUV being one car behind him, which would be unusual if the guy was responsible for committing these crimes.

Then the white SUV abruptly exited the interstate. Had Abbott finally noticed him? He took the same exit ramp, relieved to note that Roscoe was still behind him. The light was green, so he followed Abbott by turning right.

He called Roscoe. "Where are Flynn and Cassidy?"

"I just informed them of the turn," Roscoe said. "They're only five minutes behind us and closing fast. You did say no lights and sirens, remember?"

"Yeah, I know." He still thought that was for the best. "Thanks. Hey, he's turning into the parking lot of another restaurant."

"I see that. I think that place has a boat dock. Maybe he's meeting someone out on the lake?"

Since they were in the city of Peabody, he knew that was possible. Lake Michigan was the state's main attraction, but there were several smaller lakes, like Peabody Lake that boasted plenty of summer fun. "We'll lose him if he gets on a boat."

"Maybe we can rent one," Roscoe said.

Grayson knew that was a long shot but didn't argue. He pulled into the same restaurant parking lot, surprised at how big it was. Without hesitation, he parked in the first available spot, even though it was far away from the front of the restaurant that overlooked Peabody Lake.

"Hurry," he said to Eve as he pushed his door open. "We can't lose him."

She nodded and quickly hopped out of the car. He caught her hand, then broke into a light jog to get closer to the restaurant. There were plenty of cars, and he ground his teeth together in frustration when he noticed there were at least six white SUVs.

Where was Abbott? Battling a wave of panic, he raked his gaze over the area. There! He caught a glimpse of a man walking toward the restaurant. He hadn't gotten a glimpse of the guy's clothing while he was following from behind, but now he made a mental note of the dark-blue T-shirt and tan cargo shorts. He found it interesting that despite having a doctorate degree, Abbott dressed like any other thirty-something.

"That's Geoff," Eve said, confirming his thought. "Although he looks a bit down, as if he isn't looking forward to the meeting inside."

He nodded, having noticed the man's hunched shoulders and lowered gaze. Then he caught a glimpse of a phone. Abbott could be texting someone or maybe reading an email message.

His pulse jumped as he realized his instinct about Abbott working with Strong might be right on. And if so, he believed Strong was the one pulling the strings, dragging Abbott along with him. At first glance, Abbott wasn't giving off an aura of strength and determination. In his humble opinion, the guy appeared to be a follower.

He didn't have his police radio but hoped Roscoe would see them. He didn't slow his pace, wanting to get to the restaurant to get an ID on Abbott's cohort. The one obviously calling the shots.

Then Abbott abruptly turned away from the restaurant's main entrance to walk down a sidewalk that he assumed led to the lakefront.

"Do you think he's getting on a boat?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

Eve shrugged. "I don't know. There could be tables out front, too, right?"

"True." He wasn't sure what to expect and quickened his pace to catch up. They were jogging again, and he could hear the ragged breaths coming from Eve. He felt bad about pushing her physically but didn't dare slow their pace.

They were too close to lose Abbott now. At the very least he needed to get a glimpse of Abbott's partner.

When they reached the front of the restaurant, he slowed. There was no sign of Abbott with his dark-blue shirt and tan cargo shorts. The front of the restaurant was about halfway full of patrons enjoying the summer day. There were also over a dozen boats tied up at the pier with many more than that out on the lake.

Imagining the picture on Abbott's professional photograph on the website, he scanned the faces of those seated at the tables. Maybe Abbott had joined his partner at one of the tables.

Yet there was no sign of him. Not that it was easy to get a good visual of those sitting down.

"Grayson? He's on the pier," Eve said breathlessly.

He was? Narrowing his gaze, he scanned the pier, then saw him. Geoff Abbott awkwardly jumped into the back of a speed boat. Within seconds, a man who happened to already be on the boat released the ropes and pushed the vessel away from the pier. Abbott's buddy wore a baseball cap pulled low on his brow, masking his features. From here, he couldn't make out if there was a logo on the front.

Then the man in the baseball hat fired up the engine.

No! They were getting away!

He considered announcing himself as a cop and ordering them to stop, then decided against it. For one thing, they were far enough away that attempting to shoot was an empty threat. They could easily speed away without worrying about repercussions.

Besides, he didn't think Abbott or the man on the boat knew they were there.

As he battled with himself about what to do, Roscoe came up beside them. "Is that our guy?"

"Yeah." He shook his head. "I guess we can sit here and wait for them to return."

"Nah, let's find a boat and follow," Roscoe said with a grin. "I haven't driven a boat in a while. It will be fun."

"How can we get one? I don't see a rental sign," he protested.

"Money always talks," Roscoe said with a shrug. His gaze brightened. "Follow me. I see a good prospect now."

He followed his buddy down to the dock where a speedboat was approaching the pier. Roscoe flashed his badge, accompanied with a charming smile, and drawled, "Ma'am, would you mind helping a police officer?"

"Police?" the woman exclaimed. She was young, maybe in her thirties, and eyed Roscoe and Grayson curiously. "What in the world is going on?"

"I'll make it worth your while." Roscoe pulled out a roll of bills. "We'll only borrow the boat for a short while. I promise to have it back undamaged by the time you finish lunch."

"Ah, okay." The woman appeared flustered, and Roscoe offered a hand to help her off the vessel. Then he handed her several hundred-dollar bills and plucked the keys from her hand.

Seconds later, the three of them were cruising across Peabody Lake, searching for the red-and-white speedboat Abbott had jumped into.

"Call Flynn and Cassidy," Roscoe shouted above the sound of the engine. "Let them know we're on the water."

He made the call, barely able to hear Flynn's voice. Between their boat engine and others, along with the sounds of screaming from kids being dragged around in inner tubes, the noise was deafening.

"We're on the water, following Abbott and his accomplice," he shouted into the phone, hoping Flynn could hear him. "Stay at the restaurant. We'll keep you updated."

He thought he heard Flynn agree before he ended the call. Glancing at Eve, he found her huddled in the seat, hanging on to the side of the boat with wide eyes. It occurred to him this might be her first time on a boat.

"You okay?" he asked, lowering his head to speak in her ear.

She nodded, but the way she gripped the boat made him think otherwise. A quick glance beneath the front of the boat hull revealed a couple of life jackets. He grabbed one and held it out for her.

She released her grip long enough to put one arm through the opening and then the other. He zipped up the front of the jacket, tightening the straps so that it fit snug against her.

"Thank you." She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "I'm not a strong swimmer."

Yeah, he'd kinda figured that one out for himself. "We'll be fine. Don't worry. Roscoe seems to know how to handle a boat."

Again, she gave a curt nod, still holding on to the edge of the fiberglass vessel for dear life.

"Grayson, is that it?" Roscoe asked.

He went over to stand beside his buddy. Recognizing the white-and-red speedboat, he nodded. "Yep. You got it."

"I only see one person on board," Roscoe said.

They were far enough back that it wasn't easy to see details. He stared for long seconds, then caught a glimpse of a dark head. "Abbott is on board. He's slouched low in the seat next to the captain."

"I see him now." Roscoe kicked the speed up a few notches, but the other boat was also cutting across the lake as if in a hurry. Had they been made? Was it possible the two men were meeting a third? Firestein or Kimmel would be his guess.

Just how many of Eve's coworkers were involved in this?

"Don't let them get away," he warned.

"I'm on it." Roscoe grinned as if he were enjoying this. Normally, Grayson would have a similar attitude, but not when they had Eve on board with them.

And not when he was the one who'd placed her in danger. Again.

"I think they're slowing down," Roscoe called out. "Can you tell which house they might be approaching?"

He searched the shoreline for signs of someone standing outside waiting for Abbott and the guy in the baseball cap but saw nothing.

Then abruptly, the driver of the white-and-red boat abruptly hit the gas and swerved away from the shore, heading straight toward the middle of the lake.

What in the world? "Catch up to him," he shouted.

Roscoe didn't answer, handing the wheel as he did his best to follow their target. Grayson knew they must have been made, there was no other reason for the baseball cap guy to abruptly change course.

Minutes ticked by as Roscoe closed the gap between the boats. Grayson kept his attention focused on the white-and-red boat, praying they didn't lose them. Peabody Lake wasn't huge like Lake Michigan, but there were so many homes that he worried the other vessel would be able to hide in one of the numerous boat houses.

The ball-cap guy took another abrupt turn, a huge spray of water arching up as he switched directions. Roscoe tried to do the same, but another speedboat was coming toward them, pulling a young kid on an inner tube.

"Roscoe, look out!"

His buddy saw the boat and the kid and cranked on the wheel, going in the opposite direction from the course the red-and-white boat had taken. But Roscoe cut it a little too close, and he heard a squeal seconds before Eve lost her grip on the edge of the boat and tumbled into the water.

"Eve! Roscoe, kill the engine!" Grayson shouted. He lost his balance as Roscoe drew back the throttle. He tossed down his phone, kicked off his shoes and jumped up on the seat. There was no sign of Eve, but she had to be close by. Thankfully, he'd put her in a life vest.

There! Her dark head bobbed in the waves, her expression full of panic. Without hesitation, he dove into the water to go after her.