Meredith sucked in a pained breath, her vision going temporarily gray as the memory of the young man’s exploding head filled her mind. ‘Papa,’ she whispered.
Her face must have shown her horror because Clarke sighed and crossed the room to pull her into a hug. ‘I’m fine, Merry. It was fine.’
‘But it might not have been. You can’t take chances like that. Please. I can’t . . . I saw that boy die today. I can’t . . . You have to be more careful.’
‘All right.’ He patted her back. ‘I won’t take any more chances. I’m sorry, honey.’
She nodded, her cheek pressed into his chest. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Anyway, I wasn’t even the first person to talk to the cops outside. Cosmo got there first. He gave them the thermos of coffee.’
‘Who is Cosmo?’ Kendra asked.
Steadier now, Meredith stepped out of her grandfather’s embrace. ‘He lives in the blue house across the street. He’s the neighborhood watch guy. He and Papa go way back.’
‘Our kids used to play together.’ Sadness crossed Clarke’s face. ‘His daughter died recently. Now they’re both gone, both our kids. You’re not supposed to outlive your kids.’
Quiet melancholy filled the room. ‘I’m sorry, Papa,’ Meredith murmured. ‘Was that why you took a walk? To visit with Cosmo?’
‘Partly. He’s not getting around as well as he used to.’ Again the small smile, this time accompanied with pride. ‘He said you make sure his refrigerator stays full and his garbage makes it to the end of the curb every week.’
Meredith shrugged uncomfortably. ‘He’s alone. It’s no trouble.’
‘It’s still kind,’ Diesel said gruffly and Meredith smiled up at him.
‘I stock fridges, you coach pee wee soccer. Kenny helps at Mariposa. We do what we can.’
Diesel blushed. He was such a charmer. Meredith didn’t know why Dani hadn’t snatched him right up.
The mood needed lightening, and Kendra seemed to sense it first. ‘I am starving,’ she announced. ‘I skipped lunch and had to smell the food all the way over here. Let’s eat before the chili gets cold and the ice cream gets hot.’
‘We can eat in the dining room,’ Meredith said. ‘Diesel’s using the kitchen table.’
Diesel gestured toward his computer. ‘I was kind of in the middle of something. You mind if I take my food and work some more?’
Meredith studied his face. His jaw was set and she could see his mind was already back to what he’d been doing when Kendra had opened the front door. ‘Anything good?’
‘Maybe. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.’
Eight
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 8.50 P.M.
Adam jogged to his Jeep, wishing he had time to squeeze in a trip to Meredith’s house before going to Voss’s. But Trip was meeting him in the parking lot so that they could compare notes and talk strategy before visiting the man who was their best suspect.
Glancing at his phone as he crossed the parking lot, he saw another two dozen voicemails and texts. He was only interested in one at the moment. He’d texted Diesel before he’d gone into the interview room with Colleen Martel, asking if Meredith was okay.
He found Diesel’s reply as he was getting into his Jeep. Better than ok. We’re @ kitchen table. Drinking tea. Coloring.
Adam nearly stumbled. What the fuck? Coloring at her kitchen table? Drinking tea? Those are the things I do with her.
Mechanically he got into his car and buckled his seat belt. His first thought was that he knew Diesel wasn’t making a move on Meredith. Diesel was too hung up on Adam’s cousin Dani. So Adam wasn’t worried about Diesel himself.
He was worried about Meredith. Her . . . intentions. Did she color at the table with every man who visited her home? It was supposed to be special. It was special. For me.
Memories of his two evenings with Meredith Fallon had kept him going when he’d wanted to give up. But he also remembered the hurt in her eyes earlier that day. I want what you can’t – or won’t – give. Had she told Diesel about him? About his . . . issues? His nightmares? His utter and complete failings?
My utter and complete breakdown in her arms? It wasn’t among his proudest moments, that was for damn sure. But she hadn’t made him feel any less . . . of anything. She’d simply held him that night while he’d shaken apart in her arms.
And then, when his panic had passed, when he was spent, she’d kissed him so gently. Like butterfly wings. And that had been it for him. He’d fallen so hard. So damned hard.
Yeah. He’d been hard all right. Hard everywhere. He shuddered, unable to stop himself from reliving that night in his mind. It had been the best night of his godforsaken life. He’d let go with her. Finally just let go. I let myself trust her. She’d promised not to tell.
Then she didn’t, came the calm voice in his mind. She promised.
That promise had been keeping him calm – and sober – for almost a year now. No, she hadn’t told anyone. That wasn’t who Meredith was. She didn’t divulge secrets. Which was why she was in this mess in the first place. If she’d reported the fucker for stalking—
Not her fault, the calm voice broke in. You cannot blame the victim.
A sharp pain in his hands made him realize that he’d been sitting in his cold Jeep, clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. For several minutes, actually. Starting the car, he cranked up the heat and kept scrolling, looking for Meredith’s reply. His heart started galloping a mile a minute when he saw it, sent less than five minutes after Diesel’s text.
I didn’t say anything abt u to D. He’s being annoying. Sorry.
Knew you hadn’t, he texted back. That’s not you. See u later.
A knock on his window startled him. Trip stood outside, stomping his feet, trying to stay warm. Adam unlocked the passenger door and Trip hopped in.
‘Warm,’ Trip said with a little moan. ‘Hate the cold.’
‘Then why do you live here?’ Adam asked, trying to divert his focus.
‘My parents are here.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m the youngest. I was lucky to get a post in my hometown and my folks are getting up there in age, so I stay. For as long as I’m able.’
Adam met his gaze, surprised and touched by the confession. ‘Me too. Mom’s got a bad heart.’ He made a face. ‘So does my dad, but his is just asshole-bad.’ He winced then, wishing he’d kept that truth to himself. ‘What do you know about the bomb?’
‘Three pipe bombs filled with TATP, taped together, simple blasting caps, with a cell phone trigger. The vest’s pockets were stuffed with nails and BBs.’
‘TATP, like the Paris bombers used.’
Trip nodded. ‘The explosion itself would have taken out the front half of the restaurant’s dining room, plus any vehicles parked immediately on the curb outside. Any person within a five-foot radius would have been killed. Anyone within twenty would have been killed or at least critically injured with the shrapnel, no question.’
Adam drew a shaky breath. Meredith and Mallory had been less than five feet away, and at least thirty other diners had been within that twenty-foot radius. ‘Holy God.’
‘Yeah. Might have gotten a partial print from the bomb’s guts, but it may not be usable. Latent’s working on it.’
Adam knew better than to get his hopes up, but still . . . ‘You’ll let me know?’
Trip looked a little offended. ‘Of course. We’re partners. Anyway, the connection to the cell phone was simple. Three wires, no dead man’s switch.’
‘Thank God for that. Andy would have been dead in the street and the shooter in the SUV would have still had a clear shot at Meredith. What about the cell phone?’
‘It’s a burner.’
‘Of course it is.’ Adam had a sudden thought. ‘What was the number?’
‘For the burner?’ Trip checked his notes. ‘Here.’ He shined his phone’s flashlight on the paper. ‘Midway down, on the left, if you can read my writing. Why?’
Damn. ‘I was hoping it would be the same number that called the restaurant’s hostess, but it’s not.’ He told Trip about Colleen Martel.