Chapter 8

Andrew was dead. Eve grappled with the news, trying to make sense of it all. She hadn't loved him, but she had cared about him. And even though it made no sense that his murder was related to the attacks against her, she could not shake the cloak of guilt.

Why was this happening? She stood outside Zeke's truck, feeling oddly detached as she watched the police and ambulance crew swarm the area. It felt similar to the way she'd stood outside the research institute. As if this were an action-adventure film playing in front of her eyes rather than real life.

She doubted she'd watch an action-filled movie ever again. Not that she'd seen very many. Give her a silly romantic comedy any day.

She tore her gaze away and tried not to dwell on the murder of a man she'd once dated.

"Eve? Did you already give the officer your statement?"

Startled from her thoughts, she turned to Grayson. "Yes. He spoke to me briefly while you were talking to Rhy and the others."

"Okay, great. Ready to get out of here?" He used the key fob to unlock the door. "Jump in. We'll get breakfast."

"Breakfast?" she echoed incredulously, not moving an inch. "You want to eat after seeing Andrew's dead body?"

He grimaced. "I know it sounds awful, but yeah, I'm hungry. Besides, we need to eat sometime. Better to do that now on the way back to the hotel."

She placed a hand to her stomach, warding off a queasy sensation. Maybe it was a cop thing, to be able to shrug off death so easily. She was secretly glad she hadn't had to see Andrew up close and personal. "I'll go with you, but I can't eat."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay, but I have a great place in mind, Rosie's Diner. You'll like it. She bakes fresh pastries every day."

With a sigh, she pushed off from the truck to get inside. Leaving the scene of the crime was a relief. She wished now she hadn't agreed to visit Andrew first thing in the morning.

Although if they hadn't found him, he may have lain on the floor for days. No, it was probably better that they'd come. Bad enough he'd probably been there all night.

Grayson cranked the air and pulled away from the curb. "Do you really think a woman did this?"

He was asking her? "I don't know. I only wanted to point out that it's possible. Could be that Bambi or the other women he dated had anger issues and didn't take kindly to being cheated on."

"We'll use the computer to see if we can find Bambi," he said as he headed east. "She shouldn't be too hard to find with a unique name like that."

"She may be listed in the OP website too." It was easier to focus on Bambi than on how Andrew had died.

"The Brookland cops have called in a Detective Meyer to handle Andrew's murder, so I can't reach out to Bambi myself." Grayson sounded as if he were talking to himself more so than to her. "But maybe we can find something by digging through her social media posts."

"Rhy is okay with giving Brookland control over Andrew's case?" She was surprised by that.

"For now. We really don't have anything concrete to link Andrew's murder to the attacks on you." He shrugged. "But if we do come up with something that connects them in even the smallest way, Rhy will yank the case back quicker than you can blink."

That sounded more like the Rhy she was getting to know. Funny how the entire team came across as family, not just friends. Maybe that came from depending on them to watch your back.

Grayson was an integral part of the team. Casting him a sidelong glance, she agreed with him on one thing, he was different now than he was in high school. Mature, focused, and intense on the task at hand. Willing to risk his life for her and the public. She had to admit he'd become a better person over the years.

Depressing to realize she had pretty much stayed the same. Not that her research wasn't important, but at the moment, it didn't seem nearly as noble.

"Wow, Rosie's is packed," he said, breaking into her thoughts.

"A sign of good food, right?" She glanced around the small parking lot. "I think there's someone leaving."

"I see them." He wrenched the wheel of the truck in time to scoot into the spot vacated by a minivan. "I think I smell cinnamon rolls."

"You're imaging that." When she pushed out of the truck to head inside, she realized he was right. The scent of cinnamon hung in the air.

"I was right!" Grayson's dark eyes gleamed. "You'll want to try them, Eve. I've never tasted anything like it."

For some reason, her appetite seemed to have returned. Maybe Grayson had been right about getting back to a feeling of normalcy. On the surface, they looked like a couple out for a meal. Not finding dead bodies or hiding from bad guys.

There was one empty booth, and Grayson made a beeline for it.

"Ach, Grayson, it's good to see you, lad!" A large woman with bright red hair that had to have come from a bottle of dye greeted them warmly. "And who is this fine lass you've brought with you?"

"This is Dr. Eve Shaw," Grayson said.

"Just Eve is fine," she quickly interjected. "Grayson has told me so much about you."

"About me, or my baking?" Rosie arched a brow and laughed. "Ach, I'm teasing you, lass. Make yourself comfortable. I'll bring you coffee and cinnamon rolls."

"I love you, Rosie," Grayson declared. "Thanks so much."

Eve had to smile when Rosie blushed like a schoolgirl. Minutes later, they had steaming mugs of coffee and two of the largest cinnamon rolls she'd ever seen in her life.

"I can't eat all this," she protested. Then she took a bite and nearly moaned. "Although it's really good."

"I'll finish what you can't." Grayson had eaten part of his too. "I told you they were the best."

Her guilt over being alive while Andrew wasn't faded a bit. Andrew hadn't been big on attending church with her, even though he had claimed he believed in God. She hoped he was being truthful and that he was in a better place now.

"Hey." Grayson reached across the table and took her hand as if reading her thoughts. "If there is a link to Andrew's death and the attacker, we'll find it and bring the murderer to justice. We should pray for Andrew too."

"You're right. I completely forgot." She set down her cinnamon roll and bowed her head. "Dear Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food we are about to eat. We pray Andrew is up in heaven with You. We ask for Your guidance and strength as we seek those who hurt him and Pauline. Amen."

"Amen," Grayson said. "That was a nice prayer."

She was surprised he'd thought of it. She clung to his hand for a moment. "I hope you do find the person responsible. And soon."

"We will." He gently squeezed her fingers then reached for his coffee. Rosie returned to take their breakfast order.

Grayson ordered the full Irish; she settled for two eggs over easy and toast. Rosie was bringing their food a few minutes later, when she heard someone say, "Grayson? Is that you?"

"Hi, Alanna." He smiled at a beautiful blonde standing beside a tall, dark-haired man. "Hey, Reed. You have the day off?"

"Yes, we both do for once." Reed smiled at Alanna who looked up at him adoringly. She realized this was Alanna Finnegan now Carmichael, and her husband. "We plan to head to the lakefront later this afternoon."

"Sounds like fun. Oh, this is Dr. Eve Shaw. Eve, Alanna and Reed Carmichael. I mentioned Alanna is one of Rhy's sisters."

"Of course. It's nice to meet you."

"Do you work at Trinity Medical Center too?" Alanna asked. "I work as a nurse in the Emergency Department."

"No, I don't take care of patients. I have a PhD in molecular biology." Her tone was apologetic.

"A super smart woman, huh?" Reed teased. He socked Grayson on the shoulder. "She's way out of your league, bro."

"Trust me, I'm well aware. We went to high school together; she's the only reason I passed advanced chemistry." Grayson grinned. "I'm not sure I ever thanked you for your help, Eve."

"You don't need to thank me." She could feel her cheeks growing warm. Reed was teasing Grayson as if they were a couple when they weren't. And she had no idea how to set the record straight. "I would have helped anyone I was partnered with."

"Ouch, she zinged you good," Reed joked.

"Yeah, yeah," Grayson grumbled. Then he took a bite of the cinnamon roll. "Yum. See what you're missing?"

"You're killing me," Reed muttered. "I want one."

"Hey, a table just opened up." Alanna tugged on Reed's arm. "Let's grab it before it's gone."

"Later," Reed said, turning away.

Still embarrassed, she concentrated on eating her food. Thankfully, Grayson had taken the ribbing in stride. She quickly changed the subject. "Are we heading back to the hotel after this?"

"Yeah." Grayson licked his fingers after finishing the cinnamon roll. "Why? Did you want to make a stop along the way?"

"I wouldn't mind some toiletries and a change of clothes." She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but she'd felt like a frump next to Alanna.

"We'll pick something up at the discount store along the way. If that's okay with you."

"Thanks."

Rosie beamed with pride when they'd both polished off their meals. So much for not feeling hungry. They didn't linger over coffee, fully aware of patrons waiting in the doorway, so Grayson paid the bill, and they quickly left.

The stop at a local department store didn't take long. Soon they were back in the Timberland Falls Suites. She took her bag of toiletries and change of clothes into her room, shut the door, and headed to the shower.

Then she abruptly sat on the commode, the events of the morning welling inside. First Pauline died in the explosion, and now Andrew had been murdered in his home.

And she couldn't shake the feeling that the killing wasn't over.

Deep down, she knew it would not end until she was dead.

* * *

Grayson bootedup the computer while Eve showered and changed. He was determined to find everything he could about the infamous Bambi. He searched the Owens and Powers Pharmaceutical page but didn't find a list of reps listed there as he'd hoped. Undeterred, he went to social media.

To his surprise, there were several Bambis to pore over, and lots of them were pretty women.

Since he'd need Eve to pick out the correct Bambi, he went back to a basic search engine. There was a social media site that was for professionals, so he thought that might be the best place to find Bambi the pharmaceutical rep.

Bingo. He found Bambi within two minutes. She looked sweet and innocent in her professional photo, and he found himself staring at her and wondering if she had hated Andrew enough to take a hammer to the back of his head.

Glancing at his watch, he frowned upon noting the time. Eve had been in her room for almost thirty minutes. Was something wrong? He rose to his feet as his phone rang. Seeing Rhy's name on the screen, he picked it up.

"Did you find something?" he asked in lieu of a greeting.

"The Brookland Police have arranged for Bambi Altman to come in for questioning, but it sounds like she has a solid alibi for the time frame of the murder," Rhy informed him. "There was a department meeting yesterday that went well into the evening, and she and several other sales reps went out for drinks afterward. The Brookland PD will validate she was there, but it doesn't look like she's involved. Detective Meyer said she sounded very broken up and upset over learning of Thomas's death."

"She could be a good actress," Grayson pointed out, still looking at her photo on the screen. "But the alibi will likely clear her. Did the ME give any indication about time of death?"

"Roughly between eight and ten o'clock at night. He won't say more until he's finished the autopsy."

"Yeah, that makes sense." He'd imagined the guy had come into the kitchen to get water or something to eat, heard the doorbell, let the person in despite being dressed in just a pair of shorts, then was killed without warning. "What about a toolbox?"

"No sign of a toolbox," Rhy confirmed. "Meyer agrees with you that the killer brought the hammer with him."

It wasn't much to go on. Even less to connect this murder to the attacks on Eve. "I was hoping for more," Grayson said.

"They're working on it. I just thought you should know about Bambi's alibi." Grayson heard a voice in the background before Rhy continued. "I have to go. Keep Eve safe. My gut says she's in more danger than ever."

"I will. Stay in touch." Grayson disconnected from the call, battling a wave of frustration. It was hard to keep Eve safe when he didn't know anything about the motive behind the attacks against her.

Or where the next attempt would come from. Would it be another bomb, like the one planted in the Jeep? A gunman showing up like at the American Lodge?

Not a hammer, he felt sure of that. Even if the hammer wasn't part of Andrew's toolbox, the motive for bringing it to his condo was definitely premeditated murder.

"Yeah. That's Bambi."

He turned to find Eve coming up behind him, her gaze seemingly locked on the computer screen. "You can see why Andrew was taken with her."

"I don't think she's anything special." In his mind, Eve was the one who looked amazing. He liked it when she wore her long brown hair down, framing her face. "You look great."

She blushed. "I'm just glad I could take a shower. Did you find anything interesting on Bambi?"

He filled her in on the information Rhy had provided. "I don't think the interview with her will reveal anything new, but I'll check in with Detective Meyer later."

"She has an alibi, huh?" Eve looked disappointed. "I told you the hammer was strange, though."

"Yes, no toolbox in the house the way you suspected." He shrugged. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it seems to me that a woman likely used it on Andrew. A guy who was upset with him would have gotten more satisfaction out of beating him with his fists."

She smiled. "None taken, but if the intent was to kill Andrew, a hammer is more likely to get the job done."

"There is that." He gestured to the chair beside him. "Please sit down. I think we should start at the beginning. Maybe there's something we missed."

"I don't see what we could have missed." With a shrug, she sat beside him as requested. "But I'm willing to try."

"I keep coming back to this being related to your research in some way," he admitted. "How many people knew about your live presentation?"

She frowned. "I don't know. It wasn't a secret, but I didn't go around blabbing about it either."

"Did you discuss it at lunch with the other assistant professors?"

"No. I tend to eat lunch at my desk. We don't have a cafeteria in the research building. I'd have to walk over to the College of Medicine or to the hospital. That would be a waste of time, so I don't bother."

He thought her life at work and at home seemed lonely but didn't mention it. "It's possible your colleagues didn't know about it?"

"Well, it's posted on the website. If they bothered to look. I don't check it regularly, but if someone was curious enough, they could find information there."

"Website?" This was the first he was hearing about it. He pushed the computer toward her. "Show me."

Her slender fingers flew across the keys. She brought up the research institute's website and turned it toward him. "See? There are many presentations listed here."

He leaned forward and scrolled down the page. "The one you were going to give is still on here."

"It is? Hmm. Firestein said we'd reschedule. He must not have updated it." She tapped the screen. "But you can see he's listed there as the moderator. I was going to present a portion of my research, then field questions."

"Anyone could find this." The thought was depressing. Instead of moving the case forward, he felt as if they were sliding backward down a steep hill with nothing to stop them.

"If they knew where to look." She bit her lip. "I guess I should have mentioned this earlier. Sorry about that."

"It's okay. Not your fault. Things have been happening fast." And maybe that's what the killer was counting on. Frequent attacks to keep them off balance.

He rose to his feet and paced, trying to understand where they could go from here. The research. This had to be about her research.

Maybe he was making it too complicated. He spun on his heel to face her. "Your boss, Dr. Roger Cannon, knew about the presentation, but he wasn't at the research institute when the bomb went off."

"Right. So?"

"He lives in Brookland, and that's where Andrew's condo was located." The connection was so thin it was basically transparent, but it was all he could come up with. "We need to call him, set up a face-to-face meeting."

"Okay, I can do that," she agreed. "But I don't think he's involved."

"You've said that about all your colleagues, Eve. I know you don't want to consider the possibility that someone close to you did this. But everyone is a suspect until they're proven innocent."

"I hear what you're saying. But my five-million-dollar research grant doesn't just pay for my research, it supports the lab too. Roger would be shooting himself in the foot by getting rid of me."

"Five million?" he repeated. "That's a lot of money."

"Not in the world of research," she said with a shrug. "The overhead is a lot, and there's my time, too, and the supplies. Like I said, my grant funding benefits the entire lab. And that includes the work Roger is doing."

"He is in a similar field as you are?" He was feeling more stupid by the minute.

"No, he's working on something else. But I'm just saying that he works out of the same lab. Uses the same instruments. If any of them are even left," she added grimly.

Was he going down the wrong path? Then again, from where he stood, there weren't any clear roads to follow. "Let's talk to him."

"Whatever you want is fine with me. But he may not pick up a call from a strange number." She dug the disposable phone from her oversized bag.

He listened as she made the call, explaining to Roger that her phone was lost and that she was using a friend's line to call him. She politely requested a call back and left the new number.

He was about to ask how long it would take for him to respond when her new phone rang. She answered. "Roger? It's Eve. Yes, I'm fine, although I am devastated to learn about Pauline."

There was a pause as she listened to whatever her boss was saying. He wished he'd told her to put the call on speaker.

"Roger, I'm with a police officer who would like to talk to you. Can you spare some time today? Really? Great. Um, sure, we can meet at your home in Brookland. I remember where it is. I know, I feel bad the research institute will be out of commission for a while. Okay, we will see you in an hour." She lowered the phone. "Looks like we're heading back to Brookland."

"Okay, I'll get Rhy to assign backup." He wasn't about to approach a possible suspect alone. Not after the way they'd stumbled across Andrew Thomas's dead body. "I'm glad you gave us some time to work with."

"I can push the meeting back further if you'd like. It sounds like he's at home anyway since the research institute is off-limits." She frowned. "He said the insurance company won't let anyone come to work until they've inspected the building for safety."

"Yeah." He wasn't surprised by that. He called Rhy, but the call went to voice mail, so he tried Joe.

"You've been busy," Joe said.

"And I need more help. I was hoping you'd send some of our teammates to back me up at the home of Roger C. Cannon." He got straight to the point. "He's Eve's boss, and I don't like the idea of going there without support."

"Yeah, sure. I can spare Roscoe and Jina," Joe agreed. "What's the ETA?"

"We're meeting him in Brookland in an hour." He provided the address that Eve hastily scribbled on one of her infamous sticky notes. "It's probably overkill, but I wasn't expecting to find Thomas dead either."

"I agree with you taking extra precautions," Joe said. "What do you hope to learn from this guy?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "It's a long shot, but I'm hoping he'll know if one of her colleagues was more upset over her promotion than she knows about."

"Okay, keep us in the loop," Joe said. "Roscoe and Jina will meet you there."

"They'll probably get there before we will, so have them scope the place out for me."

"Understood. Later." Joe ended the call.

He looked at Eve. "We'll leave soon."

"We'll be early, but it sounds like you want it that way." She rose and stuffed things back into her oversized bag. "I hope your teammates don't scare Roger and give him a heart attack."

"They won't. Trust me, Roger won't know they're nearby." He took a few minutes to use the items he'd purchased at the discount store. Returning to the main living area, he found Eve was ready and waiting, her bag slung over one slim shoulder.

He'd parked Zeke's truck along the side of the building, with the rear of the truck closest to the building so they could make a quick getaway if needed. And this area of the lot was out of view from the front lobby. Scanning the area, he kept Eve between him and the wall as they made their way to the truck. He held her door for her, then went around to the driver's side.

He'd barely gotten behind the wheel when the sharp crack of gunfire echoed around them.

"Down, get down!" He leaned over to push Eve's head below the dashboard while grabbing his own weapon. The fourth attempt was yet another gunshot, but now he didn't dare start the truck either, fearing there was a bomb hidden in the undercarriage.

The situation was spinning way out of control. And he had no idea how to stop it.