She said, “I don’t like this. He already suspects something.”
“He’s just being careful,” Duncan said.
Mumford drove past Green’s office to the dead end, turned around, and came back down again, paused for a moment in front of the building, then drove into the parking lot.
“Here we go,” Duncan said.
Mumford got out, went to the front door, and walked inside without knocking. Now Eve and Duncan shifted their attention to her phone, where they watched a live feed from the four cameras inside the office.
On her earbuds, Eve heard Shaw notify everyone that Grayson Mumford was inside and order the patrol car to move into position across Douglas Fir Road.
On the screen, Mumford looked around the front office, peeked into the empty offices, and opened the door to the warehouse.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t put anybody inside,” Duncan said. “The kid is cautious.”
Green called out to Mumford, “I’m in my office.”
Mumford stepped inside and saw Green behind his desk, pretending to finish up some paperwork.
“Glad you could make it. I know how busy you are with TV appearances and autograph signings these days.”
“Fuck you, Mike. What do you want?”
Green leaned back in his chair, in no rush at all, and gave an appraising look at Mumford, who stood in front of his desk. “You aren’t wearing your medal. I’m disappointed. I was hoping you’d let me kiss it.”
“You should, you ungrateful piece of shit. I saved your ass.”
“From your own epic fucking mistake. You sent us into a trap.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“It’s what I paid you for.” Green leaned forward now, his elbows on his desk, and glared at Mumford. “You were supposed to fully check out each homeowner before we hit their place. Instead, you got everybody killed. You even shot Colter in the face yourself.”
“I did us both a favor. He would have talked. So unless you asked me here to thank me, I don’t see what the point is of . . .”
His voice trailed off and he got a strange, lost look on his face.
Eve said, “What is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know,” Duncan said.
Green stood up. “The point is that you’re a big hero now and I want a percentage of everything that’s coming your way. Endorsements, movies, whatever.” Mumford’s expression didn’t change. Green snapped his fingers in Mumford’s face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, asshole.”
Mumford blinked hard and met his eye. “It’s like when the bad guys get together on a TV show.”
“What is?”
“You spending the last five minutes telling me what we already know. It’s for the benefit of the audience.”
Mumford pulled a gun from under his shirt, shot Green twice in the face, and bolted from the office before the body fell.
Eve jumped out of her car, drawing her gun as she ran across the street, Duncan behind her, and Deputies Ross and Clayton rushing out of their van next door. In her ear, she heard Shaw frantically yelling “Move in! Move in!” as if they needed to be told.
Eve took the lead, Ross, Clayton, and Duncan backing her up, as she went to the door. In her ear, she heard Shaw say, “We’ve lost visual. He’s in the garage.”
She opened the door and went inside, moving straight to the door to the garage. Going through the door would be dangerous. Ross and Clayton took one side of the door, Eve and Duncan took the other. She could smell gasoline. That wasn’t good.
“On the count of three,” Eve said, reached for the doorknob and, on three, flung it open and spun low into the garage.
Time seemed to slow down. The smell of gasoline was intense. In the next second, she saw that the fertilizer pallet was drenched, several open gasoline cans and propane tanks were in front of it, and a trail of liquid led to the far end of the warehouse. She also smelled the rotten-egg odor of leaking propane gas. Just as she registered the meaning of all that, she saw the flash of a road flare arcing through the air and landing in the trail of gasoline, lighting it like a fuse . . .
. . . to ignite the fertilizer, packed with ammonium nitrate, the easy-to-find explosive of choice for terrorists everywhere.
“Run,” Eve yelled as she spun around, pushing Duncan toward the front door. The four of them ran out of the building, Eve’s feet hitting the asphalt of the parking lot just as the building exploded.
The concussive force sent Eve flying, and probably saved her life. She smacked down on the asphalt as jagged, flaming sheets of corrugated metal peeled off the building and whirled through the air like spinning helicopter blades. Tongues of flame licked out over them as bits of glass and wood and plaster rained down all around.