Feeling remarkably better considering the threats, the bomb, and a stepmother who was probably mentally ill, she headed for the door when the fire alarm went off. Oh good grief, not again. These test runs the building did disrupted everything. She reached for the door and then frowned. It didn’t open. She tried again and it didn’t move. Dropping her purse to the ground she tugged with two hands. Nothing.

Suddenly, the alarm became a part of a new nightmare. What if the building really was on fire? Oh, God, it was. There was a fire, and she was going to die. She grabbed her purse and scrambled for her phone, then hit auto-dial for Royce. No signal. She hit every auto-dial he’d put in her phone. Nothing. She was trapped in a burning building.

Chapter Nineteen

Royce had barely made it back to his building and sat down at his desk in the Walker office when Blake sauntered in, his long hair damp and slicked back, his stubble dark and unattended.

“Nice shave,” Royce commented.

“I showered. I changed. I’m staying here today. This is as good as it gets.” He sat down at one of the four steel desks in the office, directly across from Royce, leaned back in his chair, and kicked his boots up on the top.

“Morning, angels,” Luke said, shoving through the door, his short hair neatly groomed, his face clean shaven.

Blake glanced over his shoulder at him. “Oh, yes. Morning, angel. Kiss, kiss, and cheery sunshine happiness to you.” He grumbled something under his breath and then said, “I just heard from my ATF contact.”

“And?” Royce and Luke asked at the same time, as Luke sat down on the edge of Blake’s desk.

“You know from last night that the package had an amateur grade explosive device,” Blake said. “The interesting part though, is that it had a timer. It’s possible that it went off at the incorrect hour with a malfunction. But,” he sat up, “think about this. A package that went off in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. A snake that wasn’t poisonous. And this bomb wasn’t directed at Lauren.”

“Two days before she starts jury selection,” Royce commented.

“Right,” Luke said. “She hasn’t scared off yet, so the pressure increases.”

“This doesn’t mean she’s not in danger,” Blake said. “This could be some sadistic bastard who wants to torment her before he kills her.”

Royce shot him a glowering look. “Thanks for the ice water in the face.”

“Anytime bro,” Blake said.

“Could be a sick obsession with her,” Luke said. “This guy”

“Or woman,” Royce inserted. “It could be a woman.”

“Either way,” Luke said, going back to his prior thought. “He filmed her. He followed her. He watched her.”

Royce pushed to his feet and walked to the glass door of the small office, the only window to the street, staring out at the people passing by without seeing them. The clear way this person was stalking Lauren was eating him alive. “And we have nothing but a long list of suspects,” Royce murmured, half to himself, before turning. “We need an end game, damn it. We need it now.”

“We know he, or she, is after Lauren,” Blake said. “Make her bait. Set her up in the open in a way that doesn’t seem planned and bring him to her.”

“Oh, what the f**k, Blake?” Royce said, stepping towards him, anger curling inside him ready to explode.

Blake jumped to his feet and met Royce toe-to-toe. “End this, Royce. End it before this SOB ends it for her and us.”

Luke stepped between them, hands on both of their chest. “Enough. This does us no good.”

“Damn it, Blake,” Royce said, ignoring Luke. “This isn’t the woman you love or you wouldn’t say shit like that.”

”No,” Blake hissed as if burned. “The woman I loved is dead. I don’t want Lauren to join her.”

Royce felt the slap of those words, the instant deflation of his temper. He scrubbed his face and turned back to the glass door, pressing his hands to the surface, feeling more helpless than he’d felt in his entire FBI career.

“Let’s just eliminate suspects,” Luke suggested. “Sheridan’s brother is in Germany. He’s not our guy unless he contracted a professional.”

“Which means he could still be our guy,” Blake said, the chair creaking with his weight. “The one who can call off a contract to kill Lauren, if one exists. Anyone could have contracted a professional. That means the list is too damn long to do this. We aren’t going to get answers quick enough. Gamble on the trial. It’s about this week, about what is current and what is now.”

“Sheridan’s execution” Luke started.

“Has been minutes from happening several times before now,” Blake argued, “and nothing happened. This is about this trial.”

“He’s right,” Royce said, turning around, his gaze touching Blake’s. “You’re right. It’s about the trial. Everything else is a diversion.”

“The trial could be the diversion,” Luke countered. “I don’t think being short sighted is the answer here.”

“Who has the most to lose or gain from this trial or the diversion it might cause?” Blake asked. “The top three names that come to your mind, Royce.”

“The brother,” Royce said. “He hates her. If I had to gamble, I’d put his name in all three spots.”