Page 88 of Deathtoll

“Kate has her phone turned off.”

“She’s taking a nap. She didn’t sleep last night. Want me to knock on her door?”

Cirelli’s message wasn’t time sensitive. Whether Kate found out right then or an hour from then that Emma’s car was located wouldn’t make a difference. And maybe, by that time, the FBI would have more information.

The last time Murph had seen her, she’d been on the edge of falling apart. She needed rest. “Let her sleep.”

“You sure?”

“The FBI found Emma’s car,” Murph told him, then filled him in on the circumstances. “When Kate wakes up, just let her know. If she has any questions, she can call Cirelli. For now, there’s nothing urgent.”

* * *

Kate

“I’m pregnant,” Kate said for the third time, still stunned. “I’m going to be amother.”

“That’s nothing.” Emma grinned, her eyes still misty. “I’m going to be an aunt.”

“Seriously, I’m pregnant.”

In hindsight… There had been other signs she’d ignored. Her breasts had been achy. They did that sometimes when she drank too much coffee, so she’d put the discomfort down to that, except, she hadn’t really been drinking more coffee than usual. And she tired more easily, which she put down to depression over her troubles with Murph.

“I can’t have a baby. I’m too stupid to live. I was pregnant for the past three months, and I didn’t even know it.” She stared, blinked, whispered, “I’m going to have a baby.”

Emma’s grin widened. “In about six months.”

“Okay. Now we seriously need to get out of here.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Her sister rolled her eyes. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“God, you’re snarky.”

“Better than sitting here scared and crying in fear. Or worrying aboutthatshit.” Emma nodded toward the workbench under the neon lights that Kate had been doing her best to ignore.

“Why would he hurt us?” Kate tore her gaze away and looked at her own sneakers instead. “It’s not like we have information he needs to torture out of us. Fine, we’ve seen his face. But to end that threat, all he needs is us dead.”

“A cheerful thought. He’s apsycho. Maybe, as a bonus, he’s also a sadist?”

“It’s not in his FBI profile.” Kate grabbed on to that thought with all her might.

Emma didn’t seem impressed or comforted. “Have the FBI caught him? No. They don’t know everything about him. Anyway, that bench is not even the one I’m most worried about.” She gestured with her head toward another one, in the dark shadows of the far corner, this one covered with a sheet of stainless steel.

The light above was turned off, so Kate had missed the setup until then. Five separate devices sat on the bench, some kind of electronics with wires, each about the shape and size of a brick. Her breath whooshed out of her. “Are those…”

“I think so.” Emma’s swallow was audible.

“For what?” Kate squinted, leaning as far forward as she was able, wanting to see better. “He’s planning on blowing the building?”

“He asked me how many people I thought might attend the Mushroom Festival.” Emma paled.

“Thousands.” Kate felt the blood drain out of her head too.

“Thank God you canceled Mom and Dad.”

“They are coming.” Kate’s chest was so tight, she could barely get out the words. “Because you went missing… They wanted to be here.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight