Chapter 7

Eve pulled herself together with an effort. Crying on Grayson's shoulder wouldn't change anything. And it certainly wouldn't bring Pauline back. Her church pastor would say that Pauline was in a better place, and while she shared that belief, it was still difficult to know the poor woman had died because some maniac had targeted Eve.

Because of her research? That truly didn't make any sense.

"Sorry," she murmured, lifting her head from the warm comfort of his chest and swiping at her eyes. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

"You can fall apart on me any time." He lifted his hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm here for you, Eve."

"I know." She tried to smile, but her face felt stiff. "It's so maddening to know an innocent woman was killed because someone is holding a grudge against me."

"It could be that the bomber assumed the lab would be empty."

She scowled. "That doesn't make it right. You don't blow up an office without considering innocent lives may be in danger."

"You're right." He hugged her close and pressed a kiss to her temple. It was all she could do not to throw herself back into his arms. "I promise to keep pushing forward with the investigation to uncover who is behind this."

"I know you will." She injected confidence into her tone. Right now, she needed to believe Grayson and the rest of the team would find the person responsible and soon.

Before he could strike again.

He hugged her again, and she relaxed into his arms. What was the point of fighting her feelings? Maybe this was nothing more than a brief interlude for Grayson—despite how he claimed he wasn't seeing anyone as she was sure he had plenty of women to choose from—but she needed this.

Needed him.

She'd been looking for comfort, yet now there was a definite attraction humming between them. More so on her part, she knew. She snaked her arms around his waist and hugged him hard, wishing for more.

"Eve." His voice was a husky whisper near her ear. "You should probably try to get some sleep."

Was that his way of telling her to let go? With a soundless sigh, she released her grip and lifted her head. "I'm sure you're exhausted too."

He nodded, his gaze clinging to hers. Was it her imagination, or was he going to kiss her?

She was convinced she moved first, leaning in to meet him halfway. His mouth captured hers, sending a sizzle of heat shooting through her.

In high school, she'd imagined kissing him, but even her best attempt didn't match reality. He gathered her close, deepening their kiss.

She kissed him back, but suddenly he was breaking off their embrace and taking deep breaths. "I—uh, we can't do this."

Why not?She almost said the words out loud. Instead, she managed to nod. "Oh, um, okay."

He let out a low groan and shook his head. "Kissing you was something I'd wanted to do back in high school, but I need to stay focused on the danger." His expression sobered. "I can't afford to lower my guard. I hope you understand."

In truth, she had no idea what he was talking about. He'd wanted to kiss her back in high school? But then again, emotions and feelings were not her strong suit. "I do. It's fine." She leaned back and glanced around the suite as if seeing it for the first time. "Which room is mine?"

"Take your pick." He didn't move from his spot on the sofa as she stood and glanced at the two bedroom doors.

She took the one on her right for no good reason other than it was closer. "Good night, Grayson."

"Good night."

She felt his gaze boring into her back as she made her way across the room. Then she frowned when she remembered she'd left her small suitcase at the City Central Hotel. Oh well, it wasn't like Grayson had a change of clothes or toiletries either.

No complaining, she lectured herself as she closed the bedroom door behind her. After everything they'd been through, she was grateful to be alive.

She lifted her fingers to lips that still tingled from Grayson's kiss. No wonder he had cheerleaders falling all over him in high school. The man could kiss.

Or maybe her experiences with men were just that lame.

She'd walked in to find Andrew kissing a beautiful blond woman dressed in a short skirt and formfitting blouse and three-inch-high heels. Andrew had claimed Bambi—seriously, who named their kid Bambi?—was a close friend, but she knew better. For one thing, Andrew had kissed Bambi with more passion than he'd ever shown her, and besides, she recognized the woman as a pharmaceutical sales representative for Owens and Powers Pharmaceuticals. One of the up-and-coming drug companies to cash in on the sales of prescription medications.

She didn't doubt that Andrew, who had the authority to prescribe diabetes medications, had gladly used some of OP's newest diabetes drugs, despite the fact that they were more costly than those that had been on the market for years. And that was due to the infamous Bambi.

Whatever. It didn't matter. Andrew was old news. She and Grayson had bigger issues to worry about. She needed Grayson to find the person responsible for the bombings so that she could return to her research.

Earlier, she'd tried to recover the notes she'd lost in her office, but her mind had not been able to recreate a single one.

What if those notes were gone forever? No, she couldn't allow herself to think the worst. Once she was back at her desk, working through her experimental data, the ideas she'd jotted down would return.

Pushing away from the door, she washed up, then climbed into bed. Maybe her subconscious would help to recreate some of those lost notes.

Instead, her mind replayed those wonderfully intense and sizzling moments of Grayson's kiss.

At some point she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, light was streaming in through the window. She blinked, then nearly groaned when she saw the time was barely six o'clock in the morning.

She knew from past experience that falling back asleep wouldn't happen, so she dragged herself up and splashed cold water on her face. Unfortunately, she couldn't wash her hair without a hairbrush, so she raked her fingers through the dull brown strands trying to get rid of her bedhead.

It didn't work.

Muttering under her breath, she made the bed, then followed the enticing scent of coffee. Of course, Grayson was up, dressed, and even with his five o'clock shadow looked as if he'd just stepped off the cover of GQ.

Men. They had it so easy, she thought crossly.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?" His cheery attitude wasn't helping. Was he always like this in the morning?

"Fine." She headed straight for the coffee. After taking a bracing sip, she turned to face him. "I don't suppose you have any updates on the case?"

"Not yet. But I would like to interview your ex-boyfriend first thing."

She frowned at him over the rim of her cup. "I thought you said he wasn't home when they stopped in?"

"He wasn't, but I'm sure he was working, right?" He grinned. "With your help, we can track him down in the hospital."

"We can't go traipsing through the hospital intruding on sick people," she protested. "That's not fair to them. Besides, all visitors have to check in at the front desk to let the security guards know who they intend to visit."

"Figures they finally tightened up their security," he grumbled. "I really want to talk to him, Eve. And I need your input on how he responds. You know him better than we do and can probably tell if he's lying."

"Not sure about that, but okay. I get your point." She glanced at the clock. "Andrew starts at eight. We should be able to catch him in the doctor's parking structure."

"Or better yet, at his home prior to him leaving for work," Grayson countered. "Come on. We need to talk to him."

She stifled a sigh. It was too early for this. "Fine. But he probably leaves by seven thirty, so we'll have to head out soon."

"Perfect. We'll grab a bite to eat afterward." He looked pleased with having gotten his way.

"Can I finish my coffee first?" She was trying hard not to sound as cranky as she felt. One cup didn't seem too much to ask.

"Bring it along." He clearly was eager to go. "I don't want to risk missing him."

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. He lives in a condo in Brookland that isn't too far from Trinity Medical Center."

"Great. It should only take fifteen to twenty minutes to get there." He dug in his pocket for Zeke's truck keys and moved toward the door.

"Wait. I want to take my bag." She set her coffee aside, then gathered her notes together and stuffed them back in her oversized bag. This trip probably wouldn't be dangerous, but after everything she'd experienced so far, she wasn't leaving her notes behind.

"Okay, you have a point. I'll grab the laptop too." Grayson moved toward the table to pack up the device.

A few minutes later, she followed him out of the suite. At some level, she dreaded knocking on Andrew's door this early since it was doubtful he'd be alone. Either Bambi or some other woman would likely be there too.

Telling herself it didn't matter, she set her bag on the floor of the passenger seat and hopped into the truck. She hadn't brought her coffee, knowing she'd only end up spilling it down her front. Grayson had mentioned getting breakfast, so she'd have to settle for that.

"Do you need directions?" she asked, after Grayson stashed his computer behind his seat and slid in behind the wheel. "It's a side-by-side condo complex near Bishop's Woods. It's right off the interstate."

"A side by side? Not a three-story building near the Irish Pub?"

"Not that one," she confirmed. "It's a few miles from there. Did you used to live in the three-story building?"

"Not me but Alanna Finnegan, or rather Alanna Carmichael used to live there." He flashed a smile. "Rhy is the oldest of nine kids. Alanna is second youngest of the clan."

"Wow." She couldn't imagine that. "I was an only child."

"I have an older brother, Lincoln, but he's currently living in Los Angeles. He's married with two kids and works for one of the giant tech firms."

She hadn't known that about him. "Do you get to see your brother's family often?"

"Not really." Grayson's smile faded. "Our parents divorced when we were just starting college. Lincoln tended to take Dad's side, while I was closer to Mom."

She reached over to rest her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. That sounds complicated."

"That's one way to describe it." Grayson shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Lincoln is a nice guy, and we don't harbor ill feelings or anything. We just don't have a lot in common. I didn't have a very high opinion of marriage in general until Rhy and his family started getting married. I admit, they are the real deal."

"My parents were too." She had known her parents had loved each other; their mutual support and caring was obvious. She'd assumed she'd find someone who loved her the same way, but that hadn't happened.

She wondered if Grayson's jaded view of relationships had kept him single for this long.

Then she reminded herself that his personal life wasn't her concern. The moment they had the bomber behind bars, they'd both go their separate ways.

By the time they reached Andrew's condo complex, she was wishing she had risked bringing the coffee. The car ride made her sleepy.

"Do you know which one?" he asked as they drove up to the cluster of side-by-side condos.

"Yes. The second from the right." She gestured through the window.

Grayson parked on the road in front of the condo. She slid out of her seat and walked up toward the front door. Grayson quickly joined her.

"Follow my lead on this," he said as he rapped on the door.

"What does that mean?" She frowned. "I thought you wanted me here to let you know if I think he's lying?"

"That and maybe you'll think of questions to ask him that I've missed." He waited a few minutes, then knocked again.

She nodded, straining to listen. There were no sounds coming from inside. She frowned, wondering if Andrew had gone into work early.

"Is he a sound sleeper?" Grayson asked.

"How would I know?" She stared at him. "We didn't sleep together."

"Okay, I just thought I'd ask." Grayson knocked again, then leaned on the doorbell. Even from outside, she could hear it, the sound of the doorbell reverberating through the interior of the condo.

Still nothing. Maybe Andrew was a sound sleeper. Or maybe he was with someone tucked away in bed. She had always suspected her refusal to spend the night with him was part of the reason he'd found someone else. Even if she was a bimbo like Bambi.

"Maybe we should see if his car is still in the garage," Grayson said. "We could have missed him."

"Maybe." She moved off the front porch to look through the front window. At first, she didn't see anything.

Then she saw a bare foot poking out from behind the breakfast bar as if the person was lying on the floor. A cold chill washed over her. "Grayson? Look!" She pointed to the foot.

Had something bad happened to Andrew?

* * *

The bare footsticking out from behind the counter was not good. Pulling his phone, he called Rhy, knowing his boss lived in Brookland and was only minutes away.

"What's going on?" Rhy asked. In the background, he could hear babbling from baby Colleen.

"We're at Andrew Thomas's condo in Brookland, and someone is lying on the floor. I'm going to break in under exigent circumstances."

"Go ahead. Call 911 and I'll meet you there. What's the address again?"

Grayson rattled it off. Then he turned to Eve. "Call 911. I'm going in." Without waiting for her to respond, he went up and examined the doorframe. It looked sturdy, but he kicked it once, twice, and a third time, before the doorjamb gave way beneath the pressure.

Inside, a horrible stench confirmed what he'd already suspected. Doing his best to breathe through his mouth, he pulled his weapon and entered the condo. "Police! Is anyone here?"

There was no response, not that he expected one. He quickly crossed into the kitchen, looking down at a man lying on the floor wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts. The back of the guy's head was bloody, likely bashed in with the bloodstained hammer lying on the floor beside the body.

Bending at the knees while taking care not to encroach on the crime scene, he felt for a pulse. The guy's skin was cold to the touch. He was no ME, but clearly Andrew Thomas had been dead for a while.

Overnight at least, maybe longer. He wasn't sure what time Rhy had sent someone here to interview him. But he highly doubted anyone from the team would have missed seeing this bare foot.

The ME would tell them for sure. He stared at the guy for a moment, realizing his torso was twisted a bit, as if maybe he'd turned toward the attacker, but not in enough time. The way the guy had fallen was strange too. A blow to the back of the head would send him staggering forward, but he was lying on his back.

The detail bothered him, but he forced himself to let it go. There were crime scene experts who would be able to recreate the scene of the attack. He backed off from the dead man and quickly cleared the condo before going back outside, checking the windows and the back door from a distance. There was no sign of a forced entry, making him believe the victim had opened his door to let the killer inside. He didn't dig any deeper, though, knowing the crime scene techs would do a better job of that than he would.

He crossed to the broken door and stepped outside, gulping fresh air.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Eve's voice was subdued.

"Yeah." He glanced at her. "I'm sorry. I think he's been there for a while."

"I can't believe this." She looked dazed and confused. "How did this happen? Was he shot? Do you think the same shooter who came after us at the American Lodge came here instead?"

"No, he wasn't shot. Someone hit him on the back of his head with a hammer. And was nice enough to leave the murder weapon behind."

"A hammer? Really?" She frowned and shook her head. "That's odd. I didn't realize he had any woodworking tools. Andrew isn't the type to do home repairs. That's why he bought this condo."

Interesting insight. "The murderer could have brought the hammer with him or her." He noticed Rhy's black SUV already pulling up behind Zeke's truck. "The MO is so different from the bombings; I have to wonder if Andrew's death isn't connected to them."

"A coincidence?" She looked pale in the sunlight. "I don't know about that."

He didn't know either, but hopefully they'd get some answers soon. He took Eve's arm and steered her away from the house. "Hey, Rhy. Andrew Thomas is dead, killed with a blow to the head with a hammer that was left behind. I cleared the house; there was no one lurking inside. I didn't see any obvious signs of a forced entry, but I didn't want to contaminate the crime scene by getting too close." He gestured to the front door. "That is my work, but it was securely locked and took me several tries to break in."

Rhy nodded grimly. "What brought you out here so early?"

He shuffled his feet, knowing Rhy wanted to know why he'd jumped the gun and took action on the case without clearing it with him or Joe first. "I know you were going to send someone to interview him, but I thought it might be better to do that with Eve, since she knew the guy on a personal level."

"I told Grayson that Andrew started work at eight o'clock in the morning, so we thought we'd try to get here before he left the condo," Eve quickly interjected. He was touched at how she stepped up to defend him when she hadn't been that enthusiastic about coming here in the first place. "When Andrew didn't answer the door, I looked through the window and saw his bare foot. Well, to be honest, I didn't know for sure it was his, but it was definitely a man's foot, and I know Andrew dates women."

"Thanks for filling me in, Eve," Rhy said kindly, then turned to Grayson with a knowing look. "You got anything more to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Cap. It was my idea to talk to him first thing." He knew it was better to take responsibility for his actions. Rhy and Joe were both fair men, but they also had high standards for their team. "Obviously I had no idea we'd find him dead, or I wouldn't have come or brought Eve with me." He cleared his throat. "And the hammer is an interesting choice of weapon. According to Eve, he wasn't much on home repairs."

"I'll make a note for the crime scene techs to search for a tool kit." Rhy blew out his breath. "I don't know what to think. The hammer is a very different MO from the bombs and the gunfire, but the link to Eve is difficult to ignore."

"I agree. It's very strange." Grayson wished he'd have thought of coming here last evening. So much had happened, especially the last bomb that destroyed the Jeep, that he'd thought checking in with Eve's ex could wait until morning.

"Andrew wasn't exactly monogamous." Eve's pale cheeks were now flushed with embarrassment. "I caught him cheating on me with a woman named Bambi. It could be that someone else caught him in the act too."

"Bambi? Is that some sort of nickname?" Grayson asked.

"Not sure, her nametag refers to her as Bambi, so I assumed it was her actual name." Her mouth curved in a wry smile. "She works for OP."

"What is OP?" Rhy asked with a frown. "I never heard of it."

"Owens and Powers Pharmaceuticals," Eve said. "They're a relatively new drug company, they came out with a breakthrough diabetes drug that is now a rival for Ozempic and others that can also be used for weight loss as well as diabetes. I assume Bambi was trying to convince Andrew to prescribe her company's new drug when they became romantically involved."

"Maybe this is a personal attack against the guy," Rhy said thoughtfully.

"You're saying Bambi learned Andrew was cheating and bopped him on the head with the hammer?" Saying the words out loud only made them seem more ridiculous.

"I don't know," Eve said with a sigh. "Andrew is not the faithful type. And you know that old saying about a woman scorned. For all I know, he could have had a string of girlfriends like Bambi." She held his gaze for a moment as if comparing him to Andrew. He didn't appreciate that since he'd never dated more than one woman at a time. Monica's face flashed in his mind, and he pushed it away with an effort. "Either way, he didn't deserve to be murdered in his own home."

The ear-splitting sound of sirens grew louder as the 911 responders arrived. He wished he could tell them there was no reason to hurry, but as the ambulance rolled to a stop behind the squad, they seemed to realize they weren't needed.

"I'll talk to them," Rhy said, moving in that direction. "But stick around, Grayson. Brookland PD will want your statement and Eve's too."

"Got it." He reached out to take Eve's hand, waiting until Rhy was out of earshot to say, "I never cheated on my girlfriends. I dated a lot, yes. But one at a time, and most of the time, the end of the relationship was mutual." Except with Monica, he thought with a sigh. His big failure.

"That's not how I remember it," she said. "You had a different girlfriend every week."

He wanted to defend himself, then realized they were talking about the way he lived his life ten years ago in high school. He was about to tell her he didn't date women the way he used to when a shout caught his attention.

"Are you Grayson Clark?" a uniformed officer asked. His Brookland PD nametag read Rawson. "Did you move the body?"

"No, I only briefly touched his neck to check for a carotid pulse." He frowned. "What makes you think the body was moved?"

"Oh, it was definitely rolled over," the cop said. "I'm thinking the murderer rolled him onto his back to make it easier to verify he was dead."

That would explain the twisted torso, he thought. But there were still too many unanswered questions.

Who killed Andrew Thomas, and why? And was the guy's death related to the attempts against Eve?