Page 59 of Wicked Sin

“That’s right. We have verified that the explosive was detonated by a cell phone signal, not the key fob trigger as initially hypothesized.”

Shit. I share an alarmed look with McBride, and I can feel the captain looking at Ram in the same way.

My brain starts spinning, putting that afternoon together in a different way now. Did the stalker want her to think she’d detonated it? Was he watching her remotely? We fanned out pretty quickly. The bird in the sky didn’t see anything. We’ll have to go over the video footage again, but I don’t think we missed anything there.He wasn’t right fucking there, watching her, was he?

Or was it just a fluke that she’d been so desperate to get away from me that she happened to jab the key fob at the same moment the bomb detonated?

On the screen, the lab specialists go through the evidence.

The electric detonator, the container of the device stuffed with black powder, but less then they’d normally expect, and a lot of glitter tissue paper.

“Glitter tissue paper?” Again the question is from Ferdinand.

The agent on the screen nods. “I’m going to switch cameras so you can see it. It’s fascinating.”

Normally I’m all for the morbid curiosity of the Forensics crews, but not tonight. The burn in my gut gets worse as the screen flickers and changes to an overhead shot of an evidence table.

Taped-together tissue paper scraps litter one half of it like a bizarre ticker-tape parade had rained down on the lab counter. Pink, shiny glitter and torn scraps of gauzy white. The bizarre puzzle that needed to be solved.

She shows us the detonator next then Newcomb has some questions for her that I tune out because Sarah pokes me and shows me a scribbled note on her pad of paper.Glitter tissue paper???? A PRESENT. A GIFT.Then she pauses before adding,STALKER.

I nod. I’d already started thinking along that line, and this reinforces it. That kind of touch might be an accidental tell on the part of the perp. Presents, gifts—they’re personal. It would change it from a crime for hire to something with a more sinister agenda.

Revenge?

Whoever did this didn’t want to kill Taylor.

And if they’ve killed other women…

Sarah taps her pen against my fist, clenched at my side. Then she starts writing again.

We’ve got this. You can go to her.

I jerk my gaze up to find hers. She gives me a tight, small smile, then quietly rips off the top sheet of paper and pushes it into my hand

Go to her.

I’m on vacation, after all. I don’t need to stay for this.

I need to trust my team and give them some distance before I do something that could endanger everything because I’m too close to the target.

Before I can talk myself out of being selfish, I get up and leave the conference room. I’m running by the time I hit the garage, the note shoved deep in my pocket.

I can’t go straight home. But I will lose any tail they have waiting for me, and then, eventually, I will make my way back to Taylor tonight.

And I won’t leave her again until they catch this fucker, whoever he is.

20

Taylor

Luke isn’t backby the time it gets dark. I turn off most of the lights, leave him a note on the kitchen table, although I’m sure his observation net will catch that I’m going into the backyard. Then I put on my bathing suit and open the back door, stepping into the warm evening air.

It’s nice to be outside after being cooped up all day, even if the space around the pool is completely fenced in and private enough that it might as well be a part of the house. If I had to sit and wait alone, for even a second more, I would have gone crazy. Swimming is just active enough that it may give my brain something to focus on instead of panic and worry.

What’s taking him so long?

I sink into the water, up to my neck, and undo the strings of my bikini. That gives me a little rush, a dopamine hit that soothes my nerves.

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