Fatal Mistake--A Novel by Susan Sleeman (24)

Tara strode across the safe house deck and back again, her footsteps following the same path they’d taken for the last few hours. She stopped to glance at the moon hanging in the distance. Crickets chirped from the lush garden beds surrounding the yard and the sweet smell of lavender from lovely purple blooms perfumed the air. All in all a peaceful and tranquil location. Except it wasn’t. Not since Cal called that afternoon telling her he was on his way back, and when she’d asked for details of his trip, he’d been cryptic and terse.

She’d come to know him well enough to recognize the strife in his voice and the underlying unease and anxiety. If big, brawny Cal Riggins with his SEAL savvy and confidence was anxious…she should be worried, too. Which she was. Even more so because he was late and she feared something terrible had delayed him.

Maybe it was related to Oren’s journals. He’d taken copies on the plane and could have found something horrific that he’d needed to track down. Or had another bomb been detonated since she’d learned of the last one? Did the team discover something in Oregon? Would he even tell her what was bothering him?

“Stop, just stop,” she muttered, and searched the garden for peace.

Father, please keep him safe, she prayed as she’d done since his departure yesterday. She and God weren’t right, but she couldn’t imagine Him not answering her prayers for other people.

She stood, gazing into the night sky, waiting for a measure of comfort, but uneasiness continued to plague her. Over Cal’s safety or her discord with God, she wasn’t sure. If only she could learn to trust again, but for some reason, she couldn’t make the transition to having confidence in God’s direction. Maybe it was her guilt over the latest lost lives. Maybe it was stubbornness or fear. No matter which, she couldn’t step over that line and trust again.

Could you if Cal’s life depended on you trusting God?

Could she?

She heard the front door open and close before Cal’s deep voice rumbled through the space announcing his arrival and saving her from having to answer her own question.

She sighed out her relief and caught sight of him as he strode through the house toward the large patio door. Raw cuts slashed across his face, his arms. He’d suffered, but God spared his life. For a moment, weariness mixed with frustration darkened his eyes, but then his gaze connected with hers and the uneasy emotions washed away. A relieved smile spread across his face, and the knot in her stomach loosened as a warm, languid feeling filled the aching pit.

He stepped outside. She followed him, then unsure how or what to do or say, she paused.

“Hi,” he said, sounding as self-conscious as a man on a first date.

“Hi,” she responded.

He eased closer, his arms lifting as if he wanted to hug her, then he dropped his arms and searched her gaze. His eyes darkened again, this time with a longing so clear it stilled her breath. He rested a hand on her arm, and her whole body went up in flames. She’d missed him. How she’d missed him. He hadn’t been gone for twenty-four hours, and she’d missed him.

In a few short days, he’d come to mean so much to her. The desire to know him better, to have him know her better, left her stunned, and she could only stand frozen in time and stare up at him.

How would she ever handle saying good-bye to this amazing man after they’d found Oren and Cal stepped out of her life?

His eyes narrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“You…the bomb,” was all she could say.

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine, and she wanted to know more, but even if his whole body ached from the explosion, he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t talk about his injuries. Wouldn’t talk about much of anything.

He gestured at her sketch pad on the table. “Your drawings of the bombs?”

She picked up the pad and handed it to him.

He flipped through the book, his attention razor-sharp before he looked up. “Thank you.”

“I hope it will help,” she said, feeling like a stranger trying to make small talk when what she wanted was so much more.

“It should.” He placed the pad back on the table. “I’ll take a better look later and compare this to the device I reconstructed.”

She nodded her understanding. “Shane told me you caught the woman. Sarra.”

“Yes, but unfortunately she’s not talking.” Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “She’ll be escorted to D.C., and Max will question her again.”

“Did the rest of the team return with you?”

“Yes.” The warmth that had lightened his eyes disappeared. A darkness that made her head hurt replaced the light. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“That sounds like bad news.” She watched him carefully.

He didn’t respond, but pulled out a chair at the table for her. She sat, and he took a seat next to her, scooting close. Her awareness of him grew, but he didn’t seem to be affected by their proximity. Was she the only one whose true feelings had come to light during his absence, or was she assigning feelings to his expression that didn’t exist?

He rested his hands on the table. “Shane told you about the break-in where explosives were stolen.”

She nodded.

“Our Evidence Response Team lifted prints and confirmed they belonged to Keeler.”

Okay, good, talk about the investigation. She’d ignore his nearness, the scent of his minty aftershave, the emotions churning in her stomach, and concentrate on Oren. Ha! She wanted to think about Oren more than her feelings for Cal, which should tell her something.

She willed her mind to concentrate on the topic Cal raised. “Don’t you find it odd and sloppy for Oren to leave prints behind?”

“I do.”

“So do you think he wants us to know he’s stolen the explosives?”

“Could be.”

“Because he wants us to know he’s going to set off more necklace bombs.”

“Likely. Or it could be his way of thumbing his nose at us. Telling us that he’s so far superior to us that we can’t stop him.” Cal sat forward. “This is a common thing for serial killers.”

“You mean that they want to get caught?”

“No, that’s a myth that’s often said of such killers. But in fact, as they continue to get away with murder, they begin to feel invincible and get sloppy.”

“You think Oren might be getting sloppy.”

Cal nodded. “The blood in the tree was his, which suggests he was scrambling and could mean he’s not thinking ahead as much.”

“Could that be true of ditching the gun, too?”

“Could be, or he actually left the gun so we would find it and tell us that he was the one who tried to kill you, not Hickson,” Cal said, his voice strained. “Although we didn’t find Keeler’s DNA or prints on the gun, tests confirm slugs removed from the tower and the one found near your truck all came from that gun.”

“Oren really did set off the bomb, then, and Hickson was a pawn in Oren’s plans,” she said, not at all surprised by the news.

Cal nodded. “Also Kaci located video that shows Sarra Yasin renting a Toyota Corolla as Hickson claimed. Max stopped by the county jail to show Hickson her picture, and he identified her as the woman who hired him.”

“So Hickson told the truth. Oren used Hickson, and now he’ll end up in jail.” She shook her head. “Another life destroyed by Oren.”

Cal frowned. “Once this is over, I’ll do my best to see that Hickson gets a fair shake.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s nothing.” Cal stared at his hands for a moment before looking back at her. “You should also know, we’ve learned the name of another woman who we believe is working with Keeler.”

“A second woman. Do you think he’s choosing women to help him for some reason?”

“Honestly, we don’t know and may not know until we catch him and he tells us, but we’re wondering if it’s because Muslim women aren’t as closely scrutinized as men. This would allow Keeler to move about undetected.”

“How did you discover this woman?”

“Keeler talks about her in his journal. Her name is Nabijah Meer. Does that mean anything to you?”

Tara shook her head. “Have you been able to locate her?”

“No, and all we know at this point is that the origin of her name is Indian and Muslim.”

“India…is ISIS big there?”

“There are millions of Muslims in India but only a handful belong to ISIS. Hopefully Kaci will learn more about Meer and her role soon.”

Tara nodded and tried to wrap her head around the fact that Oren, the boy next door, had connected with a woman from India who believed ISIS’s crazy teachings. “Did you find anything else useful in Oren’s journals?”

Cal shook his head.

“Would it help if I read them?”

He sat watching her for a long time, then nodded. “You might see something that I didn’t think was relevant. But you should know, when it comes to you, Keeler’s not very kind.”

“Finding him and stopping him is what matters. I’ll read them.” She slipped fingers under her rubber bands.

He took her hand and held it between his, his gaze softening.

He needn’t say more.

He would accept her offer to read the journal, and now she somehow had to find the courage to read the scathing words.

Tucked into the big bed in her room, Tara dropped the photocopies of Oren’s journal onto the comforter and sighed. She didn’t want Cal to see how reading Oren’s personal thoughts would bother her, so she’d fled to the bedroom.

She’d gotten through three of the journals and couldn’t bear to read any more. She pushed the papers aside and got up to pace the room, her footfalls silent on the thick carpet. Thankfully, Cal had settled down in the kitchen to talk to Agent Ward instead of going to his room next door or he would’ve heard her moving about and investigated.

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, catching her by surprise. She shot a look at the caller ID. Aunt June? Cal had warned her not to call this number except in an emergency. A knot formed in Tara’s chest, and she snatched up the phone.

“June,” Tara answered, trying to keep the trepidation from her tone.

“Sweetheart, I have something I need you to do for me.” June’s voice shook with emotion.

Tara’s apprehensions skyrocketed. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” she replied, but Tara heard a thread of unease in her aunt’s voice.

Tara ignored it for now but kept her ears tuned for additional distress. “You know I’ll do anything for you, so what do you need?”

“I expect after I ask, you’ll change your mind about that offer.”

Tara waited for her to laugh after the statement, but she didn’t.

“You’re scaring me, Aunt June.”

A male voice sounding sharp and irritated filtered through the background of the call, but Tara couldn’t make out the speaker’s identity or his words.

“In a moment a bomb call is going to come into the Lone Wolf hotline,” June said. “I need you to make sure that Agent Riggins reports to the callout.”

“What?” Tara’s voice rang to the ceiling of her room before she controlled it. “Why?”

“There’s a woman wearing a bomb around her neck. If Cal hurries over to her, he can disarm the bomb and save her life.”

Tara’s mouth fell open. June didn’t know about the necklace bombs. Only the team and Tara knew. So who could have told June? Cal needed to know that word has gotten out, and he needed to know about the bomb call.

As Tara hurried toward the door, she asked, “Who told you about the call?”

“Oren.”

Tara’s feet stilled at the doorway. “You spoke to Oren. When?”

“He’s here at my house.”

No. Oh. No.

Fear for her aunt trickled down Tara’s back, and she couldn’t think straight. Cal would know what to do.

She turned the doorknob. “Another tech can handle the woman so Cal and I can come over there.”

“No! Don’t send anyone over here.”

“You’re making no sense. I’m going to get Cal right now, and we’ll be there soon.” She opened the door.

“Stop! Oren put a bomb around my neck, too.” The words came shooting out like a high-speed projectile.

Oren had put a bomb on June. June! Her aunt, the woman she loved.

“If you tell Cal and he shows up here, Oren will detonate it,” June added.

“But Cal needs to know.”

“Once you tell him, we both know he’ll rush right over here, and Oren will make good on his threat. Promise me you won’t say a word.”

June spoke the truth. If Tara told Cal about Oren, Cal would force Oren’s hand. But what else could Tara do?

She softly closed the door and sank onto a chair to think. To find a plan of action, but what? She wasn’t prepared to handle this alone. Not at all.

Think, Tara, think!

“Hello, Tara.” Oren’s voice slithered through the phone like an asp with its tongue ready to strike.

Oren. She was talking to Oren. The bomber. The killer. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Probably a good thing because she’d likely spew her anger at him.

“You must realize by now that I won’t hesitate to detonate June’s necklace if you don’t follow my directives.” He laughed, a high, pitchy, almost maniacal sound. “And the other woman…I will trigger her bomb, too. And if that’s not enough of an enticement to do as I say, she lives near an apartment building, so if her bomb goes boom, there will be other casualties. Who knows how many people will die if you don’t obey.”

Acid rushed up Tara’s throat, and she swallowed hard. “But you love June. You can’t kill her.”

“When you have a calling higher than yourself, sometimes others must pay even if you care about them.”

“No,” Tara snapped, and frantically tried to come up with a solution.

“Go ahead and be stubborn and stupid like you’ve always been, Tara. Your aunt and the others will suffer.”

“How do I know you’ve put the bomb on her? For all I know you’re holding a gun to her head and making her lie to me.”

“I thought you might ask about that, so I’m sending you proof.”

Her phone signaled the receipt of a text, and she tapped on the video he’d sent. June’s face filled the screen, an ugly white pipe wrapped around her neck. A skull and crossbones had been drawn on the front of the device with black marker, further ratcheting up Tara’s anxiety.

Eyes wide, June blinked rapidly, yet, underneath it all, the quiet strength her aunt always possessed shone through. Tara opened her mouth to say something, but the video abruptly ended. Tara had expected her aunt would tell her not to comply with Oren’s demands, but then maybe with so many lives on the line—including Cal’s if he went to help the other woman, Tara suspected—June would hold her tongue.

“Did your person try to kill Cal with a bomb in Oregon yesterday?” Tara asked.

“Someone tried to bomb your FBI agent?” Oren sounded honestly surprised. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Perhaps this Sarra woman had decided to detonate an additional bomb without Oren’s direction. Or maybe he was lying. Toying with her. Trying to confuse her.

“What I really want, Tara,” Oren continued, “is to see you.”

“Me?”

Why did he want to see her? If she complied and went to meet him, giving him what he wanted, he wouldn’t have a reason not to kill June. The only hope she had, apart from trusting Oren’s word, was to tell Cal and the Knights what was happening. But if she told Cal, he’d never let her go to Oren, and Oren would kill June. Of that, Tara was certain. The rest was speculation.

“So, if you want June to live, you need to send Riggins to the callout. If not…”

She had no choice. At least not right now. She’d have to abide by Oren’s wishes. “I’ll encourage Cal to respond to the callout, but I can’t force him to go if he doesn’t want to.”

“Ha! Nice try, Tara. You have more influence on him than you’re letting on. And if for some reason I’m wrong, you better find a way to make him obey or June is dead.” He blew a noisy breath over the phone. “Once Riggins leaves, find a distraction for the other agent on your detail. Take his car and his phone to prevent him from following you or calling for help. I’ve hidden a car for you.” He rattled off the address. “Now write that down, as you’ll only have thirty minutes to get there, and I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

Tara jotted down the address, the words barely legible from her trembling hands. “Got it.”

“The car is unlocked. I’ve left a phone for you and will call it in precisely thirty minutes. If you don’t arrive on time to answer…well, you know what will happen.” He laughed. “Ticktock, Tara. The clock starts now.”

The phone went dead, and Tara stared at the screen. He’d put her in an impossible situation.

She had to choose between the two people in this world who meant the most to her.