Explosive Alliance

Translated, Cash was on his own.

So did he move the bomb? Disarm it? Jake had told Cash to use his gut feeling. His gut, right. His gut couldn’t be trusted. Afghanistan proved that.

He stared at the bomb for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. His best option was to get the device away from people. Center field would be good, but safely moving through the crowd while carrying a bomb would be problematic. So then what?

He checked the timer.

08:29.

08:28.

08:27.

He had to act. Move it or disarm it, which was less risky? He just didn’t know. He used to be so decisive. Until the loss of his team.

He glanced around, assessing the number of people still in the blast radius, and saw Krista urgently climbing over seats to get to her grandfather.

Otto seemed like a fine gentleman. He’d thanked Cash for risking his life to disarm the bomb and for his willingness to sacrifice himself for others, then told him to go ahead with his job and not worry about him. He was counting on Cash to make the right decision. So was Krista. So were all the people in the stadium.

A lump formed in Cash’s throat, but he wouldn’t disappoint them.

He knew what he had to do. He flipped open his Leatherman and went to work on the antiremoval device. Each movement calculated. Precise.

The noise of the crowd. The announcer. The sounds of other officers who’d responded, all fading into the background. It was just him and the device. And the timer.

He wasn’t one for praying. Not since answers to his questions about the loss of his former team remained unanswered, but if any situation called for hope and prayer, this one did.

He sent up a quick request to keep everyone safe. To make his movements sure and true. He took a deep breath, held it and decisively disconnected the device.

With no time to spare, he moved on to the detonator, carefully pulling it from the Semtex and moving it well away from the explosives. The timer continued counting down, but with the detonator removed, it no longer mattered.

“Done!” he called out, then wiped perspiration from his forehead.

Before he could celebrate, in his peripheral vision he caught someone quickly advancing toward him. He was instantly on alert again.

He jerked around, his hand flying to his gun.

Krista raced across the now-deserted aisle.

“What’re you doing?” She rushed up to him, her eyes immediately going to the backpack. “The timer is almost down to zero and you promised to get Opa out of here. Let’s hurry. Now!”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he’d disarmed the bomb, but she flew at him and pounded his chest. He grabbed her hands. They were icy cold and trembling. “We’ve got to go. Now! Help us. Please.”

“Krista,” Otto said calmly from behind them.

Cash continued to clutch her hands as she looked over her shoulder at her grandfather. “Opa, we have to go.”

“But Cash is a bomb technician. He has disarmed the bomb. There is no longer any danger.”

She whirled on Cash. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to.”

She jerked her hands free, looking torn between aggravation with him and relief that her grandfather was safe. She made quite a sight, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. Her fiery personality contrasted with her elegant, tailored clothing, which Cash bet cost a pretty penny. Not that he had much experience with such things from his low-income upbringing, but he knew quality when he saw it.

“Let me arrange for someone to stand watch on the backpack, and I’ll assist you with helping Otto down the stairs,” he offered.

“I don’t need your help.” She turned away. “Let’s get you up, Opa.”

“I’m feeling tired,” Otto said, a smile in his voice. “I think it would be better to wait for the nice young man to help us.”

She jerked around to look at Cash again, her frustration with waiting for him rampant in her expression.

Cash stifled a snort and radioed for an officer. She watched him, her jaw jutted out in defiance. She was a tenacious little thing, battling for her grandfather at all costs, a trait Cash admired. By the time the officer arrived and Cash had given him instructions, she had Opa on his feet.

He was clearly in poor health, and today’s scare had likely rattled him more than he was willing to admit. Cash would do his best to help Otto relax.

Cash took the older man’s elbow and winked at him. “Let me know if you catch the eye of a pretty lady. I’ll let go so we don’t ruin your cred as a ladies’ man.”

Otto shook with laughter. “I like you, Cash Dixon.”

Krista glared at him. It was obvious she didn’t like him. Not the least little bit. No skin off his nose. He was hardly boyfriend material right now. The jury was still out on whether he’d ever be again.

They slowly worked their way toward the main concourse. Otto chatted all the way down, his attitude remarkably cheerful.

Around the corner, Cash spotted the First Response Squad barreling up the ramp. Five strong, they wore uniforms of black tactical pants and black collared knit shirts. Kevlar vests covered with intricate FRS logos on their chests.

“Late to the party, I see,” Cash joked, though he was glad to see them.

Jake marched up to Cash. “We good?”

“Yeah. The device is disarmed. I’ve put an officer on the backpack. When MEDU arrives they can dispose of the Semtex.”

“Good job, man.” Jake clapped Cash on the back.

Brady Owens, whose shaggy blond hair made him look like a surfer instead of a sniper, socked Cash in the arm. “When the building didn’t blow up on schedule, we figured you had things under control.”

“Yeah, man.” Archer Reed, a team negotiator and the only member of the group taller than Cash, grinned. “We’re glad you didn’t go boom.”

Despite the obvious sarcasm, Cash knew both men were sincerely relieved that he was all right.

Negotiator Skyler Brennan, small for a law enforcement officer, with fiery red hair, stepped forward. Her size often had people underestimating her strength and determination, but she was one of the strongest women Cash had ever met. She lifted her arms to give him a hug.

He wasn’t about to let anyone hug him on the job. He stepped back, and she looked hurt.

“Don’t be rude, Cash Dixon,” EMT Darcie Stevens chastised. The self-professed mom of the group, she kept everyone in line.

A job Cash could never do. Making a bunch of adrenaline junkies mind their manners and play nice together was a thankless job. But Darcie did it well. Most of the time anyway. When she wasn’t trying to get all the guys to express their feelings. That was just plain annoying.

“Don’t worry, Darcie,” Skyler said. “I get it. Cash’s on duty. He can’t possibly let people think he’s less than a macho alpha male.” She grinned at Cash, then turned her attention to Krista. “When Cash called this in, he told us how well you handled discovering the bomb. Most people would’ve screamed or fainted.”

Krista shot Cash a surprised look.

He shrugged it off.

“Don’t mind him.” Skyler wrinkled her nose at Cash. “He doesn’t like people to see it, but he’s a real softy.”

Cash groaned. “Maybe we should keep the focus on Krista, not me.”

“My Krista is an amazing woman,” Otto said fondly. “I’m glad for others to see this, as well.”

Jake cast an intimidating look at Otto. “And you are?”

“I am her very proud grandfather, Otto Schiffer.” Otto puffed out his chest.

“A brave man in his own right.” Cash relayed how Otto had been willing to give up his life so Cash could disarm the bomb instead of helping Otto exit the arena.

A flush colored Otto’s face, his silvery beard now more pronounced. “It wasn’t anything that anyone else wouldn’t do.”

“If you don’t mind, can we end this praise fest and move things along?” Brady tapped his foot on the concrete.

He was constantly in motion, a field of energy always buzzing around him, but he had a laid-back, carefree attitude. Cash was more deliberate. Moved slower. Thought things through and weighed the consequences. Still, as a former Marine Scout Sniper, Brady’s past military experience made him the person Cash connected with most on the team, despite their different personalities.

“For once I agree with your need for speed, Brady.” Jake changed his focus to Krista. “The sooner we get your statement, the sooner we can catch our bomber.”

“Wait, what?” Brady swiveled to face Jake. “We’re staying to take her statement?”

Cash seconded the question. The FRS was needed in the moment of crisis to take care of the immediate danger. They were rarely involved in the subsequent investigation other than holding a debriefing to evaluate and improve their performance for the next incident.

“With the gravity of this situation, the higher-ups have already decided the county will form a joint task force with the city. Skyler will take lead for County.” Jake turned to Krista. “In addition to Skyler’s duties as a negotiator on our team, she’s also a detective with the county’s Special Investigation Unit. She’s asked us to sit in while she takes your statement.”

Darcie lifted her medical bag. “After I give them a quick evaluation.”

“The restaurant looks deserted. We can meet in there.” Jake took off, his long strides carrying him swiftly down the empty corridor.

The team followed like ducklings after their mama, Krista and Otto trailing them. Cash chose to hang back for a few seconds to clear his mind. Still, he let his gaze track Krista. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he was glad he didn’t have to say goodbye to her just yet.

Brady turned back and eyed Cash.

Right. Get moving before everyone starts asking questions.

“Dude.” Brady slugged Cash again. “You’re practically drooling. Not that I blame you. She’s a real looker. But you’d better get your head together before Jake notices.”

Cash laughed, pretending to blow off Brady’s comment.

Brady was right—Krista was a real looker. But what really attracted him was the care and concern she exhibited for her grandfather. After Cash’s parents had died when he was eight and he’d been passed around from home to home, he could appreciate the obvious love they both shared.

Still, he wouldn’t let this interest in her distract him. Not now. Not when his help was needed to locate this very dangerous bomber before he struck again.

FOUR

Krista helped Opa find a seat in the restaurant as the First Response Squad connected tables, allowing the group to sit together.

What a team.

Six people. Calm, efficient and quick to move. Intimidating, really. Very intimidating.

Except for the EMT, Darcie. Tall and thin with auburn hair in a ponytail, Darcie’s warm, motherly attributes shone through as she squatted in front of Krista and took her vital signs. Everything about Darcie exuded compassion and friendliness.

Maybe her kindness proved that this team was different from the detectives investigating Toby’s murder. Would they actually be kind to her instead of falsely accusing her? Trashing her name in the media and ruining her life, leaving her no choice but to flee from Portland?

Could she be lucky enough to stumble upon decent cops who believed in someone’s innocence until proven guilty?

Like their leader, Jake Marsh. Was he a good guy?

He oozed strength and seemed to analyze every step before acting. Exactly what Krista would expect from a leader. At the same time, he didn’t pressure Darcie to finish her exam so they could start the questioning. A good balance for the deputies who counted on him, Krista supposed.

He talked with Brady, who she’d gathered from their chatter held the position of sniper. Solidly built, he had a carefree smile and laid-back look, but he bounced around the room like a Super Ball. The team negotiator named Archer was long, lean and intense, his gaze watchful all the time. As if he was trying to figure out what made people tick. Skyler, who was about Krista’s height, stood next to him. She carried herself with a self-assurance that warned Krista to be careful around her.

And Cash? The man she tried not to look at? She didn’t know what to make of him.

Over six feet with a muscular build, he had dark hair, a wide jaw and intense eyes that lightened up only when he smiled. He was a fine-looking man, there was no disputing that. One most women would jump at a chance to date. But not her. She’d had no interest in dating since she’d discovered Toby had lied to her.

Cash looked up and caught her watching him. A slow smile crept across his face, his eyes glinting with amusement as if he could read her mind. She felt her face heat up again and jerked her gaze back to Darcie.

Darcie shot a curious look at Cash, then frowned up at Krista. “Your pulse and blood pressure are good, but shock can sometimes be delayed.” She hung her stethoscope around her neck. “The others will focus on getting as much information from you as possible to have a better chance at finding the bomber. Not me. I’ll keep an eye on you during the interview to be sure you’re handling this okay. If at any time you need a break, ask for one.”

“I will.”

Darcie scooted over to Opa and took his pulse.

Skyler joined them and handed out bottles of water. “It’s important to stay hydrated, too.”

“Thank you.” Krista’s stomach was a tight knot. She couldn’t imagine putting anything, even water, in it, but nerves had left her mouth dry. She took a long pull on the bottle.

“This isn’t our first crisis situation so we understand what you’re going through.” Skyler smiled, yet Krista could see questions lurking in her eyes.

“I’d appreciate it if you could continue monitoring Opa’s medical condition.”

“Opa?” Skyler asked.

“Means grandfather in German.” Krista peered at Opa, who was greedily drinking from the bottle while Darcie strapped the blood pressure cuff on his arm. “He’s been undergoing chemo treatments and—”

“And she worries too much about me.” He waved off Krista’s concern. “Please don’t go to any trouble for me. I dare say I am doing better than my Liebchen here.”

Krista patted his knee. “They can look after both of us.”

Darcie ripped the Velcro cuff from Opa’s arm and stood. “If you start to feel dizzy or short of breath, don’t try to be a hero. Tell me right away.”

Opa nodded and Darcie turned. “We’re good to go, Jake.”

His clipped nod seemed to fit his no-nonsense personality. “If everyone will join us at the table, we’ll get started.”

Krista helped Opa to his feet and, for once, he didn’t shrug off her help but leaned heavily on her arm. Which troubled Krista more than if he’d tried to move on his own. This day was taking a toll on him, and she needed to get him home as soon as possible.

She settled him in a chair near the head of the table, deposited their jackets on another chair and sat next to him, far away from Cash Dixon. He remained standing, resting a shoulder against a window overlooking the midfield section of the stadium.

Looking out past him, she saw powerful lights illuminating the empty field. The bomb still sat high in the stands and cops swarmed around the area, probably looking for anything that could help them track the bomber. That man. That creep who’d tried to kill children. Families. Opa.

And she’d seen him. Up close and personal—could identify him.

Would he realize that and try to find her to silence her?

A shudder started at Krista’s head and worked over her body. She willed away memories of the bomber’s cold eyes. Willed away her fear of him coming after her and clamped her hands together under the table. Opa needed her to stay strong and get through this quickly to take him home.

She focused on Jake, who stood at the head of the table, carefully appraising her. She tried not to shrink back from the intensity of his expression. Her past experience with police officers told her he’d likely take it to mean she was hiding something so she smiled and forced herself to relax taut muscles in her shoulders.

He didn’t return her smile, but sat on the corner of the table, his determined gaze never leaving her. “Go ahead and tell us what happened today. Start with your arrival at the field and really think about anything unusual you might’ve seen.” He turned his focus to Opa, and Krista resisted sighing with relief. “If you can add anything along the way, Mr. Schiffer, feel free to jump in.”

“Please.” He waved a hand. “Stop with this Mr. Schiffer business. It’s Otto.”

“Okay, Otto.” A tight-lipped smile briefly lifted the corner of Jake’s mouth, but it disappeared when he looked at Krista again. “Go ahead, Ms. Curry.”

Unlike Opa, Krista didn’t ask him to call her by her first name. Formality would make it feel less personal should they fire accusations at her later. It would also continue to remind them of her last name. A name she’d had to assume after the press had vilified her. A name that should help conceal a connection to Toby and leave her past in the past.

“We didn’t want to battle traffic so we arrived on the MAX train,” she said, reminding herself to stick to facts that couldn’t be misconstrued and later turned against her. “We entered through Gate 2. After stopping at a water fountain to fill our cup, we went straight to our seats.”

Skyler pulled a notepad from her backpack. “Was the bomber in his seat when you arrived?”

Was he?

Krista squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force away the terror of the final moments to remember the beginning. Entering the stadium. Climbing the stairs as quickly as she could with Opa. Watching her feet so no one had the chance to get a good look at her face and recognize her. Settling into her seat. Keeping her head down—way down—until the match started.

Not something she’d tell the team eyeing her. The minute they learned she remained a suspect in a murder investigation was the minute they’d brand her a criminal and start thinking she could be involved in this incident, too.

She glanced at Opa. “I don’t remember if he was there. Do you?”

“I only had eyes for my Timbers, but he must have been in his seat. I would have noticed if he arrived after us and got between me and my football game.”

“Makes sense.” Skyler flipped the page in her notebook. “What time did you arrive?”

“I didn’t look at the clock.” Krista took a quick sip of water. “But I’d guess it was about ten minutes before the match started.”

“I concur,” Opa added.

Skyler jotted a note, then looked up. “What happened after you took your seats?”

Krista ran through the events in her mind and nothing except her worry of being recognized stood out. “The match started, and it was just the usual things you’d expect. Vendors. People coming and going.”

Skyler’s eyes bored into Krista. “When did you first notice the man who left the backpack?”

Krista forced herself to meet Skyler’s intimidating gaze. “I accidently spilled Opa’s water. When he started coughing, I went down to the mezzanine to get more.”

“That’s when I first saw you,” Cash said with no inflection in his tone to give away his thoughts.

She nodded as the memory of his intense study and blatant flirtation made her uneasy. She took a quick cleansing breath before she blushed again and drew attention to the attraction between them, then looked Cash straight in the eye. “Then maybe you saw me when I returned, too.”

“I saw you,” he said, and this time, she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

So the flirting continues. Great.

Despite the desire to look away, Krista kept her focus on him. “That’s when I bumped into the bomber, which means you saw him, too.”

“Ah...” The flicker in his eyes turned to full-bloom amusement. “I wasn’t exactly focusing on the bomber.”

Brady snorted. “I could’ve told you that.”

Cash crossed his arms, the taut muscles flexing. He fired a testy look at Brady.

Brady laughed. “Hey, man, it would’ve been great if you’d seen the guy, but no one blames you for looking at Krista instead of an ugly old bomber.”

Chuckles traveled around the table but did nothing to alleviate Krista’s tension.

Skyler was the only team member who didn’t seem amused. “You bumped into the bomber?”

Krista nodded. “He was leaving as I was returning from the water fountain. I noticed he’d left his backpack, but when I tried to tell him, he ignored me and kept going. So I stepped in his path to stop him. He stared at me for a minute, then brushed past me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Liebchen?” Opa asked, sounding hurt.

“I thought he was just a rude man, and I love you, Opa, but I can’t tell you about every rude man I encounter.” She gave Cash a pointed look. “I figured he was headed to the bathroom and would come back for his pack later, so I took my seat. After he didn’t return in fifteen minutes, I looked in the pack. I saw the bomb and remembered Deputy Dixon. I went to tell him about it. He agreed to look at the backpack.”

Cash pushed off the window and planted his feet. “That’s when the other woman saw the bomb and her warning sent everyone into panic mode. Krista wanted to go after Otto, but she agreed to let me go instead. I scoped out the bomb and rendered it safe.”

Skyler’s pen hovered over her notebook as she stared at Krista. “Now would be a good time to give us a physical description of the bomber.”

Images of the creep slunk through her mind. Her hands trembled. She clenched them harder while dredging up the nerve to speak of him.

“Are you all right, Ms. Curry?” Darcie asked.

No. She doubted she’d be all right for a very long time. But she wanted this monster caught, so she forced herself back to the moment in the aisle. “He’s Caucasian. Maybe six feet. Thin. I’d say in his late twenties. He wore jeans and a green Timbers sweatshirt with the hood up. I saw a bit of black hair on his forehead. The rest was hidden. His face is long with a pointed chin. His eyes are grayish blue.” Memories of the hatred in his eyes sent a cold chill through her body. “His eyes were mean. Extremely mean.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should’ve known he planned to kill people...all of us. If I had done more to stop him, he might not be free to try again.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Liebchen.” Opa’s papery-soft hand settled over hers and she clung to him. “You couldn’t have known.”

“It sounds like you saw him well enough to help our sketch artist render an accurate drawing,” Skyler said. “Are you willing to meet with him?”

Krista nodded. “I’ll never forget his face. Never.”

“I’ll set something up for tomorrow. Is there a time that’s best for you?”

“I teach preschool and the kids need me there. I have two sessions a day. I start at seven and get off at four.”

Skyler frowned. “I’d rather not wait an entire day. What about a lunch break? Could we do it then?”

“Yes, if your artist comes to the preschool at noon.”

“I’ll make sure it happens.” Skyler pulled her gaze from Krista for the first time since the questioning had begun. “Anyone else have questions?”

Brady looked right at Krista, not the least bit uncomfortable pinning her with a hard stare. “We wouldn’t be doing our jobs if we didn’t at least ask Ms. Curry if she’s involved in this.”

Here it comes. The accusations.

Opa grasped his chest. “Och, not my Krista. She’d never do a thing like this. Don’t you have security cameras that caught our arrival? If so, you can see for yourself that she carried no backpack.”

“To get through security she would have had to stow the pack with the bomb in advance,” Jake said.

She crossed her arms. “How could I have gotten materials in here? I have no access.”

“But a friend might.” Skyler watched Krista carefully, measuring, weighing.