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Max parked as close as he could to the small strip mall but had to jog two blocks to reach the explosion scene.

Fire trucks, vehicles from three different police departments, and spectators crowded the area.

The scents of burning fuel and harsh smoke had reached him the second he opened his car door.

He approached an officer maintaining the perimeter and pulled out his identification. “Who’s in charge?”

The deputy looked closely at his ID. “Why’s the FBI here?”

“Trust me,” Max said grimly.

The deputy gave him a long look and then pointed at a group of people near the blown-out windows of a yoga studio. “Lieutenant Ogden.” He lifted the yellow tape for Max, who ducked underneath and headed across the parking lot.

The strip mall’s parking lot was wet, and there were large areas of standing water.

Firefighters were packing up their equipment, and a forensic tech circled the burned vehicle, taking pictures from every angle.

The investigation had started. The cars on either side of the SUV had broken windows and scorch marks.

Max spotted Noelle and changed direction.

She was sitting on the bumper of an ambulance, holding an ice pack to her head and listening to a man in plain clothes who gripped her hand, speaking emphatically.

Max slowed his strides, taking in the situation.

Mercy sat beside Noelle, an arm around her shoulders as she listened too.

As Max drew closer, Noelle’s gaze shot past the speaker and met his. Noticing her distraction, the man turned, and Max spotted a badge on his lanyard.

County detective.

But he still held Noelle’s hand.

Max approached and Mercy stood. Noelle started to stand up, but the other two made her return to the bumper.

“Agent Rhodes,” said Mercy, holding out her hand.

She had called and told him what happened.

The FBI had been contacted immediately since the explosion was possibly caused by a car bomb, which could indicate domestic terrorism.

When Mercy learned it was Noelle Marshall’s vehicle that had exploded, she’d notified Max, knowing he was investigating a previous attack on Noelle during her husband’s murder.

The attack had taken place thirteen years ago. But the fact that Noelle had been recently interviewed about it and now possibly attacked again was too big a coincidence. Max had immediately headed to the crime scene.

He shook Mercy’s hand, and she introduced him to Detective Evan Bolton from the sheriff’s office, confirming Max’s suspicion that he was a coworker of Noelle’s. Bolton narrowed his eyes when Mercy said that Max was from the Sacramento FBI office.

“What does your office have to do with this?” Bolton gestured at the vehicle and looked from Max to Mercy.

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” said Max.

“What?” asked Noelle. Understanding dawned on her face. “It can’t be connected. That’s a big stretch.”

“Are you all right?” Max asked Noelle. Her eyes were red, and her jacket was filthy.

“How ... how did you hear about this?” she asked instead of answering his question.

“Mercy called me. Where’re you injured?”

She lowered the ice pack. “I hit my head. My ears are still ringing.”

Max glanced at the black husk of an SUV. “You were lucky. Where are your sisters?”

“They’re at the hospital. Lucia banged up an elbow and hit her head. Eve landed on her knees and was limping.”

“You’re going there next,” said Mercy.

“They took my vitals, I’m fine.” Noelle returned the ice pack to her head, wincing as it touched.

“You’re not fine,” said Detective Bolton. “You need your head examined.”

Noelle snorted and then winced at the sudden movement. “Maybe.”

“Absolutely,” said Mercy. “You might have cracked it again.”

Max had thought the same thing.

“Again?” asked Bolton, looking from Mercy to Noelle. “Why do I feel like I’m a step behind everyone?”

They can’t be that close if he doesn’t know about her old injury.

“Long story,” said Noelle. She gestured at Max. “Ask him. He’s the one jumping to conclusions.”

“Have there been other attempts on your life?” Max asked, not giving Bolton time to question him.

Noelle was quiet for a moment. “Only once,” she slowly admitted, meeting his gaze.

He knew she meant at her husband’s murder. “This explosion happened right after you’d been questioned about your previous attack. Too big a coincidence for me.”

“Anyone could have done it,” argued Noelle. “I’ve angered a lot of people in my job. And that’s assuming it wasn’t some vehicle issue that caused the explosion.”

The three of them stared at Noelle, and she squirmed. “Okay. Stationary vehicles randomly blowing up isn’t common.”

“Not common at all,” added Mercy.

“Who’s targeting her?” Bolton asked Max, impatience in his tone.

“That’s the question,” said Max, eyeing the other man, weighing his concern for Noelle.

“Mercy can catch you up, Evan,” said Noelle, pressing a hand against her forehead. “It’s too much for me right now.”

“The FBI lab should be involved,” Max said. “They can get faster results.” He studied the front of the strip mall. “We’ll take whatever video evidence is found too. We can get heavily detailed stills from video better than anyone else.”

Noelle slumped and pain filled her face. “I think—”

“You need to get to the hospital,” said Mercy. “I’ll tell the EMTs.” She headed for the cab of the ambulance.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

“Too bad,” Max and Bolton said at the same time.

Noelle looked past them to the SUV. “I’ll need a new work vehicle.”

Her mind is drifting. She’s concerned about the wrong things.

“She needs someone with her at the hospital,” said Max to Detective Bolton, not liking her defeated expression. “And at her home.”

“Stop it,” said Noelle in exasperation.

“He’s right,” said Mercy, returning to the conversation with two EMTs in her wake. “If this turns out to be what we think it could be, you shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ll get a deputy on it,” said Bolton.

“Let’s get you up,” one EMT said to Noelle, taking her arm. “Any nausea yet? Dizziness?”

“Yes and yes,” Noelle muttered as he guided her into the back of the vehicle. “My vision is off,” she told him in a quiet voice.

Max watched her sit down in the ambulance, the EMT speedily getting her settled and bustling to take her vitals again.

She’s more injured than she let on.

The driver slammed the back doors and climbed into the cab. The ambulance drove through the parking lot slowly, occasionally whooping the siren to get people out of the way.

Mercy met Max’s gaze. “She told me everything the night before yesterday.” She turned to Detective Bolton and accurately relayed Noelle’s past in Sacramento.

Bolton was stunned. “I had no idea. She’s never said a word.”

“Same,” said Mercy. “Are we bad friends? Did we not try hard enough to get to know her?”

“My impression is that she’s a very private person,” said Max. “And the murder of her husband is something she’s tried to put behind her. I don’t think she ever would have brought it up.” Mercy appeared genuinely distressed that she’d let down a friend.

“Could Rowan have known?” Mercy asked Bolton.

He shook his head. “My fiancée,” he explained to Max. “How likely is it that this attack is related to your investigation?”

“Don’t know, but I have to consider it,” said Max. The ambulance turned onto the street and sped away as his gaze followed.

Did our interview stir up something deadly?

Noelle had told him last night that Jason Bell had harassed her. Max had seen in her eyes how much it’d disturbed her.

I need to find him.