Talia

Once we pull away from the Blake Estate, my hands start to shake. The tense meeting with Mina got to me and I immediately reach up to touch my necklace. Sighing my frustration and sadness that it’s gone, I let my hand drop to my lap.

“To the office?” When I don’t immediately reply, Den slides his gaze to me. “Are you all right?”

The downside of refusing to ride in the back is that he can see everything. I offer a rueful half-smile and fold my hands together. “I tried to smooth some ruffled feathers, but I may have just made things irrevocably worse.”

He returns his focus to the road, flipping the sun visor down against the bright sun. “You were right to defend him. Isabel wasn’t always the nicest person. I don’t know what this is all about, but I know Sebastian doesn’t do anything without cause. I’ve seen how much he does for Mina. She’s a bit oblivious to that, I think.”

I glance his way, surprised he has paid so much attention. “I hope you’re right, Den. I have a tendency to go with my gut on things.”

“All will be well, Talia.”

The confidence in his tone makes me feel a little less stressed. Needing something to distract me, I open my satchel and pull out the paperwork from the bombing that Sebastian read over last night after I zoned out. If I scan over it once more, I can feel confident that we didn’t miss anything. The detective, Phil’s number is scrawled across the top. Pulling out my phone, I dial it.

“Hi, Mr. Mayhew, this is Talia Blake, Sebastian’s wife. Do you know when I’ll be able to get my necklace from the police?”

“It’s an on-going investigation, Mrs. Blake, but as a favor to the family I’ll see what I can do to get it for you. I have a contact in the evidence room.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Have you heard of any new leads in the case?”

“None so far. I’ll let you know.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to share that BLACK Security is already running down a lead, but until find out more, there’s no point. “Well, hopefully the officers will find something soon.”

“Yeah, just have to keep working it. I’ll be in touch about your necklace.”

“Thank you.”

Hanging up, I sigh and spend the next ten minutes flipping through the paperwork of reports until I reach the tech person’s write up that said since no other accelerant was found, the igniter had to have been located on the gas tank flap to cause the kind of explosion it did. “This is the third time that I’ve looked at this report. I’m not sure why I keep staring at it,” I mumble after several frustrating minutes.

“Since the words have remained consistent, maybe your gut is telling you something.”

I glance up, smiling that he’s making a point about trusting my earlier instincts with Mina when his comment hits me from another perspective. “Consistency! It wasn’t the report, but the location.”

“In what way?”

I realize he’s acting as my sounding board, but his perceptive skills are strong, so maybe a back and forth could help. “The first bomb/igniter was taped to the edge of my tire rim, which would’ve put a hole in my tire, but the second igniter was put on the gas tank flap…a much deadlier, but also a more obvious place.”

“Ah, I see. You’re wondering why the person changed the location they put the bomb.”

“And also when they did it, because where it was located—right there on the outside of the vehicle—would’ve been much easier to discover, even if it was just a little over two inches long.” I retrieve my phone and call the office. “Hey, Elijah, can you do me a favor and queue up all the church street footage we have from the night of the bombing? I know you’ve reviewed it, but I’d like to do so as well. Thanks, we’ll be there in five minutes.”

I hang up, anticipating scanning the videos with a keener eye. As Den turns on the road that’ll lead us to the office, two loud splats hit the windshield, sending something like black ink or paint scattering across the glass.

“Bloody hell!” Den hits the breaks and as we screech to a halt, I’m glad the road is clear of cars at the moment. He immediately flicks on the windshield wipers, but the wiper fluid only smears the black mess, instead of cleaning it off.

Punching the door locks, he starts to dial a number when smoke begins to billow through the vents. “Gas,” he mutters and drops his phone in his lap to turn off the internal vent button at the same time he hands me his pocket scarf. “Cover your nose and mouth, then call Sebastian.”

While he proceeds to shut all the vents, I cover my nose and mouth with the cloth and reach for the phone in my lap, but it must’ve slid off the paperwork onto the floor when he hit the brakes. Bending down, I blindly grope for my phone, the toxic smoke stinging my eyes. I still haven’t found it when Den pulls on my shoulder to get my attention.

“Talia,” he says, sounding groggy. I take a short breath and try to keep from breathing in the gas as I straighten. Den shoves something toward me. “Hide this on you somewhere it won’t be discovered.”

As I take what feels like a pen, Den wheezes a couple of times, then slumps forward, losing consciousness.

“Den!” I drop the cloth and quickly tuck the pen inside my bra against the underwire, then turn and try to pull Den’s limp body back against his seat. The smoke has made me so weak, it takes a couple attempts before I succeed. “Can you hear me?”

The inside of the car is completely filled with smoke now, making my eyes water and my lungs feel like they’re on fire. I blindly lift Den’s head back against the headrest, then slide my fingers down to his throat. I’m relieved his pulse feels strong under my fingers, but I’m woozy and my arms are too weak to shake him hard enough to wake him.

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion and fire licks my lungs with the need for oxygen. Just as I shake my head to stay conscious, a heavy thump hits my window. The car rocks with another hit and I gulp in a gasp of pain when flying glass stings the side of my face. I intuitively turn away, my vision dimming.