“I don’t plan on it.”
Blake eyed her as well. She saw him swallow. “Go. Now,” she said. “Both of you, get out of here.” Neither man moved. “Please, Blake, Linc.”
Blake shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.”
Linc planted himself off to the side and crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving you either. Mom would kill me.”
“Get out of here, guys,” Brad said. “This is our scene and you’re not welcome on it.”
“Not leaving,” Blake said.
“Me neither,” Linc said.
“I don’t have time to argue, but you guys are in serious trouble when this is over.”
“As long as you make sure we live to face the trouble,” Linc said, “I’m fine with that.”
Brad snorted.
Tears gathered in Chloe’s eyes as the two bomb squad members went to work. She was grateful for their support and furious at their stubbornness. “There’s no reason for us all to be in danger. You guys need to move. Please.” She honed in on Blake. “Rachel needs you around.”
He flinched. “It’s okay. It’s not going to blow.”
Brad’s EOD dog alerted immediately on the door and Chloe let out a slow breath. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”
“How much longer can you hold that knob?” Brad asked.
“As long as I have to.” When she’d gripped the knob, she’d grabbed it with a tight hold, using muscles all the way up in to her forearm. Afraid to loosen her grip to give those muscles some relief, she simply endured.
She couldn’t see Mitch’s face through his mask, but she could imagine him frowning. “We need to see inside the building,” he said, “but we’ve got to be careful how we do it.” He pointed to the bottom of the door. “I’d try running a tiny camera under there, but it’s flush to the ground and no way it would fit.”
Chloe could read between the lines. He needed eyes in the building to make sure there weren’t any other explosives rigged to blow if someone opened a window or drilled their way in. For the next few minutes, they worked on a way to get inside. Chloe alternated between praying and not letting the cramp in her hand get the best of her.
Mitch came back around. “We’re going through the roof. There’s a skylight we can get around and there’s no sign of explosives attached to it. So hold tight.”
“I’m holding.” Tight. These guys were trusting her with their lives. There was no way she was going to blow them up. No matter how bad the cramp in her hand got. The only problem was her fingers were starting to go numb. Who would have thought holding a doorknob could turn into an act of sheer will?
18
Blake paced in front of the building where the bomb squad members worked quickly and efficiently to get inside. Normally, they used robots to handle the explosives, but there was no way to send a robot into this situation. It required putting human lives on the line.
Another member approached, finger pressed against his ear. Blake assumed he was listening to someone. The man’s eyes slid to Chloe. “Mitch says they’re inside. The door is rigged to blow with C-4. If you’d managed to push it in, you’d be dead.”
“The deadbolts are on, so that wasn’t even a possibility,” she said. “Maybe he only wanted to kill if someone actually got the deadbolts open.”
“What about the knob?” Blake asked.
“There’s no lock on it. Someone put the deadbolts on there instead of just changing the doorknob, I guess. Anyway, looks like that was the trigger for the C-4 should the door actually open.” He gave her a half smile. “Like if someone were to get the deadbolts open. They’re pretty sure if you just let go, everything will be all right.”
“Pretty sure?” she asked. “I’m not risking my life—and these crazy people who won’t back away—on a ‘pretty sure.’ Could we get a hundred percent positive instead?”
“That’s what we’re working on, so even though it might be okay to let go, don’t.”
She scowled at him, and Blake figured Chloe didn’t have any immediate plans to relax her grip.
A black sedan pulled to a stop behind the bomb squad’s command center and a woman dressed in a dark blue pantsuit exited the vehicle. She swept her sunglasses down over her eyes and planted her hands on her hips.
Tabitha St. John. The chief of police—and Chloe’s mother.
“Oh boy,” he breathed.
She hesitated only a fraction of a second, taking in the scene, before she started their way. An officer laid a hand on her arm and she paused. Said something to him. He backed off and she continued down the slight slope of front yard.
She stopped when she saw Chloe, Blake, and Linc—and the bomb squad members on top of the building. Blake nudged Linc, who turned, spotted his mother, and jogged toward her. “What are you doing here?”
Chloe followed him with her eyes. That widened when they landed on her mother. “Oh, great.”
Mitch came around from the side of the building and nodded to Chloe. “You still doing okay?”
“Just peachy.”
The words were spoken through gritted teeth. She’d been holding the knob now for a good twenty minutes.
“We’re inside and working,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Chloe?”
“A little busy right now, Mom. Why don’t you head back to the car and I’ll let you know when I can talk.”
The woman stopped her approach, standing a good distance away, but not far enough. “Glad to see you’re holding steady.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, “holding steady. Very steady.”
“How much longer?” Blake asked Mitch.
Mitch shook his head. “As long as it takes.”
Blake wanted to punch the man, but since he knew the situation wasn’t his fault, he held his temper and focused on the woman he was coming to care way too much about. “You can do this, Chloe,” he said, his voice low and meant for her ears only.
She shot him a glare. “Y’all really aren’t giving me much choice. I’d feel a lot better if everyone would just clear out.”
“Can’t do that and leave you here alone.”
“Exactly,” the chief said. She might have agreed with him, but he could tell she didn’t like so many people in such proximity to a possible explosion.
The St. John family stood together. Blake knew that. Envied that. Chloe’s relationship with her brothers and sisters were a source of fascination for him. Being friends with Linc meant having an open invitation into the St. John home. And it didn’t take long to note that when one of them was in trouble, the rest came running to help.
A shiver wracked her and Chloe’s gaze held his. “Hold on,” he said. “Not much longer.”
The chief’s phone rang and she grabbed it. A helicopter hovered overhead and Blake figured it was a news crew. Awesome. How had they gotten ahold of this already? “Yes, she’s fine, honey.” Her eyes went to the chopper. “I know what’s playing out on the news, but it’s being handled. She’s fine. Uh-huh. I will. Love you too. Bye.”
“Dad?” Chloe asked.
“Yes. He wanted to know that you were okay.” Chief St. John stepped closer, her face pinched. Blake thought she actually vibrated with the tension running through her. “You’re okay, right?”
Chloe swallowed. Despite the “pretty sure it won’t blow” reassurances, she was so scared she wanted to puke, but since that would up the possibility of getting her—and all of the people trying to help her—killed, she drew in a deep breath. “I’m okay, Mom. Scared, but okay.” She couldn’t break down yet.
“I am too, baby. But you know you’ve got the best working on it. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ve just postponed the meal, but I expect you to be there for dinner.”
“Sure. Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do, Mom, but I’d still feel better if you weren’t quite so close. Can’t you back up a little?”
“Nope. Linc,” her mother said, “why are you standing so close? You too, Blake. You need to get out of range.”
“We’re not leaving her,” Linc said.
“Yes, you are. And that’s an order.”
Linc blinked. Hesitated. Her mother removed her sunglasses and stared at the two men.