Chapter 9

Eve's heart thundered in her chest as Grayson covered her body with his. She prayed that God would keep him safe from harm. She heard him calling 911, his voice incredibly calm in the face of the crisis.

"Shots fired outside the Timberland Falls Suites. Officer requesting assistance."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell her shaking. The only good news was that the gunfire had stopped. At least for the moment. Maybe because they were crouched so low in the truck that the shooter couldn't see them.

"Maybe we should drive out of here," she whispered.

"Negative. I don't know if he planted a bomb under the truck."

That hadn't occurred to her, although based on everything that had transpired, it should have. She braced herself, knowing that if the shooter had a trigger of some sort, he could set the bomb to blow at any moment.

Although if he had the ability to do that, why try to shoot them? None of this made any sense.

Grayson spoke again. "Joe, we're taking gunfire at Timberland Falls Suites. Please send Jina or Roscoe here ASAP. We're in Zeke's truck, but I don't dare start the engine."

She couldn't hear Joe's response, but she knew the team would rally around them. It was a comforting thought in the face of danger.

The team would always be there for Grayson and for her by proxy.

She had never experienced anything like it. God had sent Grayson and his entire team to her side when she needed him the most.

"Are you okay?" It took a minute for her to realize he was speaking to her.

"Peachy." She was far from okay and suspected he knew that. But what was the point of complaining? It wasn't his fault.

"I don't know how we were found here," Grayson murmured. "I feel like I let you down. I didn't notice anyone following us from Rosie's or Andrew's condo, but the shooter must have found a way to track us."

"You didn't let me down; we're alive because of you." She wanted to lift her head to look at him, but that was impossible. She was feeling slightly claustrophobic from the cramped position but told herself to get over it.

"The shooter is likely gone." He lifted his head, giving her slightly more room to shift. "Stay down, though. I'm going to slide out of the truck and look underneath."

"Why not wait for the cops to arrive?" She couldn't hide her panic. "The gunman may be waiting to get a better shot at you."

"I don't think so. He'll know I've called for backup. If he's smart, he'll get out of Dodge. I'll use the truck as protection." Grayson sat up and pushed his driver's side door open so that he could get out.

She lifted her head just a few inches to watch him. True to his word, he stayed low, crouching alongside the truck. Then he went down on his hands and knees, examining the undercarriage.

It was a task he'd done several times before, but she couldn't get over how Grayson approached it as part of a normal routine. Nothing about searching for a bomb was normal.

The silence was broken by the wail of sirens. She was impressed by the quick response of the Timberland Falls police department. Maybe because they didn't often get reports of gunfire in the quiet suburb.

Grayson was probably right about the gunman being long gone. She lifted her head farther, easing the pressure on her stomach and chest from being bent in half. The sun was relentless. When she saw the twin bullet holes in the glass window, another wave of nausea hit hard.

So close. If Grayson hadn't reacted as quickly as he had, they would both be dead.

"Well, that figures," Grayson muttered.

Her stomach tightened. "You found a bomb?"

"No, I found a tracking device." He sounded upset with himself. "I should have thought of checking for one before leaving Andrew's condo."

"You think the same person who killed Andrew placed the tracking device on the truck?"

"Yeah." He came out from underneath the vehicle, his expression grim. "And that means the murder of your ex-boyfriend is definitely connected to these attacks."

She stared in horror. "If that's true, the killer must have been lurking nearby the entire time we were there."

"Yeah, or the killer came by early that morning to see if anyone had discovered the body yet and happened to see us pull up." He shook his head. "I'm surprised the perp didn't try to take us out then."

"Maybe he came along shortly after you called for backup." She searched her memory, trying to envision those moments outside Andrew's house. "I didn't notice anyone driving past. Certainly no one walked by on foot."

"I should have done a more exhaustive search for the killer." He sounded annoyed with himself again. "It's not uncommon for murderers to return to the scene of the crime."

"Andrew had been dead a while, though, so why would you look for the killer?" She didn't want him to beat himself up over this. "It's not your fault, Grayson. You're doing your best to keep me safe."

"Too bad my best isn't good enough," he muttered.

"Don't—" she started to say, but she was cut off by the arrival of the Timberland Falls police department. Not one squad but three showed up, along with an ambulance.

"Come with me." Grayson held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to draw her from the truck. She resisted the urge to go farther until she'd reached in and snagged her bag. Maybe she had an unhealthy attachment to her research notes, but she'd carried them with her for this long, and she wasn't about to let them go now.

Grayson put his arm around her waist as they walked toward the three police cruisers. "Stick close to the cops, okay? This may take a while."

"I understand." No doubt they'd search for signs of the shooter. She set her oversized bag on the ground, feeling weak and shaky. The adrenaline rush had faded, and all she wanted was to curl into a ball and cry.

Not an option. She willed herself to stay strong, listening as Grayson filled the responding officers in on the series of events. He then led them to Zeke's damaged truck, showing them the tracking device that had been placed beneath the rear bumper. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but the grim expressions on the officers' faces spoke volumes.

The policemen spread out to search. Grayson went with them, gesturing to a small, wooded area directly across from the Timberland Falls Suites parking lot.

Her chest tightened with fear as Grayson and the others cautiously approached the trees, their respective weapons drawn. The foliage was thick enough that the gunman could still be hiding in there.

Please, Lord Jesus, keep Grayson and the other officers safe in Your care!

She held her breath as they disappeared into the trees. When she heard a car engine, she jerked around in surprise. A black SUV pulled up behind the other squads, and she relaxed upon seeing Roscoe's familiar features.

"Eve? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." She gestured toward the woods. "Grayson and the other officers are searching over there."

"I'm sticking close." Roscoe took up a position beside her. "I know Grayson would want me to watch over you."

Stupid tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them away, staying focused on the trees across the lot. Thankfully, there were no sounds of gunfire, and soon a few of the Timberland Falls officers emerged from the woods.

"The shooter is gone." She couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Probably bad unless they were able to find some sort of clue as to his identity. "I can't believe he tracked us here in the first place."

"How did he accomplish that?" Roscoe asked. His faint Texas twang was cute.

"Grayson said there was a tracker on the truck. Probably put there while we were outside Andrew's condo." Chilling to imagine the killer watching them discover Andrew's dead body. "Grayson is kicking himself for not checking for one."

Roscoe snorted. "He's being too hard on himself. I wouldn't have looked for one either. I think the way the danger keeps escalating is getting to him."

As if hearing their discussion, Grayson emerged from the woods. His expression was difficult to read, but she noticed he carried a small plastic envelope in one hand.

"He's found a shell casing," Roscoe said with satisfaction. He lifted his hand, drawing Grayson's attention. He quickened his pace to join them.

"This is from a thirty-eight." Grayson held the bag up to show Roscoe the brass. "I only found one, though. He must have picked up the other one as I know two shots were fired."

"I see the two bullet holes," Roscoe agreed.

Grayson nodded. "This one had rolled beneath some leaves, so he missed it. Maybe he left in a hurry because he knew the Timberland Falls PD was on the way. Let's go look at the truck. Maybe the slug is inside."

She trailed after the two men going back to Zeke's truck. Seeing the bullet holes again only reinforced how close they'd come to being hit.

"I need a penknife," Grayson said. "I think the slug is in the back seat."

"Here." Roscoe handed one over. "Be careful not to hit the slug itself."

"I won't." She watched in amazement as Grayson sawed with the knife in the cushion around the entry point of the bullet. Then he plucked at the stuffing until he was able to pull it free. It wasn't easy, but soon he held out his hand. "I need another evidence bag."

Roscoe handed one over. Grayson dropped the slug with the stuffing around it inside. "That's one. Let's see if I can find the other."

She was impressed he'd found anything at all. He and Roscoe scoured the inside of the truck. "It passed through the back," Grayson finally said.

"Yeah, I see the exit hole." Roscoe shook his head in amazement. "I'm glad we found one of them. That should be more than enough."

"Yeah. But we still need a weapon to match." Grayson crawled out of the back seat as several Timberland Falls police officers crossed over.

"Hey, that's our crime scene," one protested.

"This is a crime that started in our jurisdiction," Grayson said. "If you'd like, I'll have my captain call yours."

"You do that," the officer said with a scowl.

Grayson handed the evidence bags to Roscoe and made the call. A few minutes later, he was speaking to Rhy. "Boss, we have a bit of a situation here. Shooter found us in Timberland Falls. I have a slug and shell casing as evidence. Timberland Falls isn't happy about us taking it from the scene." He listened for a moment, then handed the phone over to the closest officer. "He wants to talk to you."

The conversation was short and sweet. When the Timberland Falls cop handed the phone back, he turned away without a word.

"Nice work," Roscoe said. "Maybe we'll get prints."

"I hope so." Grayson grinned. "Guess Rhy got his way, huh?"

"Was there ever a doubt?" Roscoe asked. "I wouldn't want to get on Rhy's bad side, no way no how."

She stepped closer to Grayson. "Why do they care who takes the evidence?"

"It's a jurisdiction thing. Technically, the crime happened in their backyard." Grayson shrugged. "They'll get over it."

Roscoe gestured to his vehicle. "Do you still want to meet with the professor?"

"Yes, but we'll need to give our statements first. Is Jina in Brookland?" Grayson asked.

"Yep. She's keeping an eye on the place," Roscoe agreed. "Although based on the gunfire here, it's not likely the perp is hanging around Brookland."

"Probably not." Grayson shifted to look at her. "As soon as we give our statements, we'll get out of here."

She nodded. "My statement will be short. I didn't see anything."

"Me either. Just a flash of movement before the gunfire rang out." Grayson shook his head in disgust. "I'm not sure how he missed us, other than maybe the glare of the sun threw him off."

"God was watching over us." She reached out to touch his arm. "We're very blessed."

"She's right," Roscoe agreed. "The big man upstairs gets the credit."

"Which one of you is Officer Clark?" A man wearing a suit and gold badge crossed over to them. She figured he was the detective assigned to the case.

"I am." Grayson turned to face him. "I have reason to believe the shooter was targeting Dr. Eve Shaw. This is a case we've been working for the past thirty-six hours."

The detective's gaze narrowed. "You're MPD? And hogging all the evidence? Why are you even here? Why did you bring danger to my neck of the woods?"

Eve stepped forward. "He's been trying to keep me safe, that's why. What, you don't get any crime here? This is the first time ever?"

"Whoa there, little filly." Roscoe's tone held amusement. "He's not the bad guy here."

She spun away, struggling to control her temper. She wanted to kick something but managed to stifle the urge. Her luck, she'd break her toes.

Somehow, she calmed down enough to give her brief and likely unhelpful statement. Then she grabbed her oversized bag and stood by Roscoe's SUV.

Maybe it was irrational, but she wanted nothing more than to get far away from this place.

Not that she would feel safe anywhere else. Depressing to think that no matter where they went, it seemed as if the killer would find them.

* * *

Grayson squelcheda flash of guilt over keeping the two evidence bags. He didn't necessarily blame Timberland Falls for being upset, but it wasn't like he'd drawn the shooter here on purpose. And he knew the lab in Milwaukee would put a rush on the prints.

He doubted they'd find any, but he could hope.

"What happened?" the detective asked.

Stifling a sigh, he started at the beginning, how the bomb had been set in Eve's office to go off during her presentation and then finding another device at her home. He glossed over the other attempts, finishing the story with their stay here at the Timberland Falls Suites.

When he took a breath, the detective sighed loudly. "I hate when you guys come out here like this. Can't you stay in your own city?"

He glanced at Eve, hoping she didn't go after the detective again. "Look, we're trying to get to the bottom of this mess. I thought coming here would keep us safe. I was wrong. Sue me."

"Yeah, yeah." The detective scowled. "Go on and get out of here. I'll follow up with your captain on the investigation. The least he can do is to keep us updated on your progress in arresting this guy."

"Works for me. Thanks." He turned away, grateful that was finished. Surprisingly, the detective didn't ask Eve any questions. He nodded at Roscoe. "Let's hit the road."

"About time," Roscoe agreed. Soon they were heading toward Roger Cannon's home in Brookland. He called Jina on the way.

"See anything noteworthy?" he asked.

"Negative. The streets are busy with kids biking and playing, which is a bit of a concern. I don't like kids being in the line of danger, but honestly, I've been in position for a solid fifteen minutes without seeing anything unusual."

"Okay, we'll be there soon," he assured her.

"You may want to give the professor a head's up. I've seen him looking out the window as if waiting for you to show." Humor tinged her tone. "He seems anxious to get this meeting over with."

"Will do." He turned to look at Eve in the back seat. "Let your boss know we had a minor delay but we're on our way. Don't tell him about the gunfire, though."

"Okay." She dug in her bag for her disposable phone and made the call. "Roger? We're on our way. Sorry for running late, but we'll see you soon."

"You had to leave a message?" he asked.

"Yes. I don't know if he remembered which phone number I called him from." She shrugged. "He'll listen to the recording."

"Yeah." He turned back to stare out the windshield. "As soon as this interview is over, let's get the shell casing and slug to the lab."

"Will do." Roscoe glanced at him. "I'm surprised he used a handgun from that range. A rifle would have been better."

"Maybe he doesn't have a rifle," Grayson said. "The shooter outside the American Lodge had a handgun too. I think this guy prefers bombs but will take whatever shot he can get." He paused, then added, "I'll have to tell Zeke about the damage to his truck."

"He'll be fine." Roscoe brushed that concern off. "As long as you and the doc are safe."

"And he knows I'll pay for the damage." He scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling as if he'd failed big time. "I never expected a shooter to show up at the hotel."

"Hey, we'll find him." Roscoe lightly punched him in the arm. "He's making mistakes now, leaving the shell casing and slug behind. And it's so hot he may not have bothered with gloves."

"Yeah." He hoped Roscoe was right. They needed a break in this case big time. And while he still wanted to speak with Roger Cannon, he wasn't sure the guy would be of much help.

They arrived at Brookland twenty minutes late for their original meeting time. Grayson hadn't seen any sign of Jina, but the team sharpshooter knew how to blend in and stay out of sight.

Roscoe dropped them off. "I'm going to drive around a bit. Jina is right about the kids swarming around; school must be out for the summer. Call me when you're ready to roll."

"Got it." He reached for Eve's hand. "Let's do this."

"I'm ready." She looked calm after her angry outburst earlier. He had to admit, it was cute the way she'd jumped to his defense. She didn't understand that cops were territorial and didn't appreciate crossover criminal activity. And he hadn't taken the cop's comments seriously. In the end, they got to retain the evidence, which was all that mattered.

They walked up to the front door that immediately opened, revealing a man in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and hunched shoulders. "Eve, I'm glad to see you." The older man's gaze shifted to him. "And you must be Officer Clark. Please come in."

"Thanks. Call me Grayson." He held the door open for Eve, who went in first. The interior of the house was blessedly cool. He glanced around curiously. The interior was neat and rather formal, maybe picked out by the younger, pretty wife. Not nearly as lived in as the Finnegan homestead. "Thanks for meeting with us."

"Of course. Have a seat." Roger waved toward the living room furniture. "I would like an update on the investigation."

"I'm sorry, but there's not much I can tell you." Grayson sat beside Eve on the sofa. "We're still searching for the person responsible for the bombing. That's why we've come here."

"Why?" Roger Cannon's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know anything."

"Where were you when the bomb went off?" Grayson asked, undeterred by his response.

"Here at home." Roger frowned. "I was leaving my house when I received a call from the police letting me know the research institute was on fire. At first, I thought something went wrong in the lab. I had no idea a bomb had been set."

Roger sounded sincere enough. "Why were you running late?"

Roger flushed. "I overslept, but that was mostly because I'd stayed up late reading the latest JAMA. I'm usually an early riser."

"JAMA?" He glanced at Eve questioningly.

"Journal of the American Medical Academy," she clarified. "It's one of the top research journals."

"I see." That sounded plausible too. He decided to switch directions. "Which of the associate professors is holding a deep grudge against Eve?"

"What?" There was a flash of something that looked like guilt in the man's eyes. "None of them. We all work as a collaborative team."

"Cut the bull," Grayson said bluntly. "This isn't a TV interview, it's a criminal investigation. A female scientist gets promoted over a bunch of men who are not only older than she is but who have been working longer at their respective research, and you claim none of them are holding a grudge? Sorry, Professor, I'm not buying that."

Roger's gaze darted toward Eve, then back to him. "Okay, fine. There were a few rumblings when I gave Eve the promotion. What does it matter? I highly doubt any of them would set a bomb in the building."

"Not just the building, in her office." Grayson wanted to grab the professor by the shoulders and shake him. "Don't be obtuse. This is a personal attack against Eve, and you know it. Her office was bombed, and another device was placed at her home. She's been targeted nonstop over the past thirty-six hours. Now tell me which of her colleagues complained the most bitterly about her promotion."

"I don't know any such thing!" Roger blustered. Although the older man avoided Grayson's gaze. "This is the work of an extremist group, not someone within the institute. Destroying the lab hurts us all."

"Roger, please." Eve spoke up for the first time. "I need to know who resents me. It doesn't mean he's guilty of anything, but it's important we rule him out so we can move on to other suspects."

Roger abruptly threw up his hands. "Okay, you want to know the truth? All of them. Is that what you wanted to hear? Each one of the associate professors who were passed up came to see me personally to express their dissatisfaction with my decision."

Eve went pale as if she'd been slapped in the face. Grayson put his arm around her shoulders to help steady her. As bad as he felt for her, they were finally getting somewhere. "Any of them more upset than the others?"

Roger ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Nick Strong. He called your research ridiculously overrated and threatened to go to the dean to file an age discrimination lawsuit against me. I told him to go ahead, that your work spoke for itself." Roger shrugged. "I knew your work was great, Eve. You don't get awarded five million dollars in grant money by offering substandard research. Nick was just upset, that's all. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Did he file the lawsuit?" Grayson asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Roger admitted. "I assumed the dean talked him out of it. It's not as if Nick is even close to the age of fifty. He wouldn't have a case."

So, Nick Strong, the guy known to have lost his temper once before had threatened to sue the research institute over Eve's promotion.

As far as he was concerned, the guy had just made it back up to the top of his suspect list.