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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NOAH STEPPED IN front of Violet as Grant eased Rayne behind his body. “Let’s see the arrest warrant, Hanson.”

The cocky smirk on Hanson’s face morphed into a scowl. “The detectives are working on it,” he muttered.

That’s what he thought. Noah shifted his weight slightly to ease the pressure on his left thigh. Man, all he wanted was to return to the hotel, shower, and fall onto a flat surface. Bed, couch, floor. He wasn’t picky. Anything would work. Instead, he’d be stuck for hours in an interrogation room with his bandaged leg proclaiming to the cops that he’d been injured in a bomb blast he shouldn’t have been near.

Worse, someone must have reported their presence in or near the apartment building, and Noah had been stupid enough to forgo having one of the Fortress techs create a loop on video feeds to prevent anyone knowing about their presence in the building.

If he could, he’d kick himself for the oversight. Although Violet had a key and her sister’s permission to enter the apartment, no cop worthy of his badge would fail to note the timing of their entry and the explosion. He didn’t blame the cops for their suspicions. If he’d been working the case with Seth, his former detective partner, Noah would push hard to have arrest warrants drawn up, too.

“Detectives Ellis and Freeman would like a word with you,” Hanson said between clenched teeth. “Violet will ride with me. The rest of you can split up with my friends, so we’ll make sure you arrive at the station safely.”

Over his dead body. “We’ll drive ourselves. You can lead us to the station in your cruiser, Hanson, and your buddies can bring up the rear of our caravan.”

Hanson glared at him, clearly trying to come up with another reason to force the operatives to separate.

Noah’s eyebrow rose. “Do you really want to tick off cooperating witnesses?”

The cop snorted. “Witnesses?”

“You have evidence that says otherwise?”

Hanson shoved his handcuffs back into his duty belt. “We need to go. The detectives have a lot of questions. Where is your vehicle?”

Rayne pointed at the SUV parked several yards away. “The black SUV parked under the light.”

“Bring the SUV here, baby,” Grant said, gaze glued to Hanson.

Hanson motioned for one of the other policemen to go with Rayne.

Grant scowled and barred Rayne from going around him. “Got a problem, Hanson?”

“How do I know she won’t run?”

He laughed. “Do you really think she’d run off and leave me here? We’re getting married as soon as I convince her to accept my proposal. Trust me, dude, she’s not going anywhere.”

“Go with her, Jasper,” Hanson snapped.

Grant took a step toward the belligerent cop, eyes narrowed.

Rayne got in front of him and turned to face him. “Grant, look at me,” she said, voice soft.

After a long pause, his gaze dropped to her face.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Trust me.”

“I do.” He refocused on Hanson. “Hanson and his buddies, not so much.”

She inched closer to Grant. “I won’t be out of your sight,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t make me look weak.”

“Grant.” Noah signaled his friend to stand down. Rayne was right. Grant’s behavior made Rayne appear to be a weak link among the four operatives when nothing was further from the truth. She had to be seen as strong as the rest of them so as not to appear to be a prey for the hunter.

“You’re right,” Grant murmured and brushed his mouth over hers. “Go.” He watched as she walked to the SUV with Jasper on her heels. She climbed behind the wheel and drove to the emergency room entrance, where Noah and the others waited.

Hanson pointed at Noah. “You follow me to the station. If you try to shake us, you’ll be back in this hospital with a lot more injuries than you have now. Understand?”

Noah opened the back passenger door of the SUV and motioned for Violet to climb inside. He followed her in without a word to Hanson and shut the door as Grant sat in the shotgun seat.

After a glower in Rayne’s direction, Hanson and his buddies climbed into their cruisers and formed a caravan with Hanson in the lead.

Noah wrapped his hand around Violet’s and squeezed. “Grant, call Fortress. We need a lawyer on standby.”

“Copy that.” Grant pulled his phone from his cargo pocket and made the call. As Rayne turned into the parking lot of the police station, he said, “We’re in luck. Casey Elders is an hour away, visiting family. She’s on her way.”

Noah breathed easier. “Excellent.”

“Orders?” Rayne asked after turning off the engine and twisting in her seat to look at Noah.

“You know what to do. Answer questions, but volunteer nothing.”

“They’ll separate us. Standard procedure.”

He sighed. “I know. I don’t want Violet out of my sight, though.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Violet said.

“How?”

“Just watch. We better go. Fitz looks ready to pitch a fit.”

“We don’t want to give the cops an excuse to charge us with obstructing justice,” Grant muttered. He exited the vehicle, met Rayne at the front, and threaded his fingers through hers.

Noah opened his door and reached back to help Violet from the SUV. Truthfully, she was in better shape than he was. Everything hurt, especially the wounds Violet had closed with stitches. He now regretted refusing the standard Fortress pain killers. He needed that medicine in the worst way. Too late now, though. Plus, the last thing he wanted to do was answer questions when his head was foggy.

Once he closed the door behind Violet, Rayne locked the vehicle. Hopefully, the local cops wouldn’t break the law by jimmying the locks to search inside.

Noah wrapped his hand around Violet’s. “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?” he murmured.

Her head whipped toward his. “How can you say that? My hair is a mess and I’m pretty sure I have dirt smudges on my face.”

She had several streaks of dirt and a few scratches. Despite that, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “All I see is you, the perfect woman for me.”

Violet stopped mid-stride, stepped up to Noah, and kissed him hard.

“Get moving,” snapped Hanson. “We don’t have time for this.”

Noah ignored him for a few seconds more, then reluctantly broke the kiss. “We’ll pick this up later.”

She winked. “I’ll remember.” Violet wrapped one arm around his waist and they resumed their walk to the station.

That slight pause had given Noah enough of a break from the pain that he could mask his discomfort for the rest of the trek to the building.

They followed Hanson to the interrogation rooms. “One of you bozos in each room. I’ll take Violet. Jasper, you go with Rayne. Cam, you and Danny split up with Noah and Grant.”

Violet shook her head. “Noah and Grant were seriously injured this morning. Dr. Wheeler instructed me to watch both of them.”

“You ain’t in the hospital anymore. You’re in my house now.”

“If you want to call the doctor and bother him when he should treat other patients, be my guest. But I’m not letting these men out of my sight.”

“You don’t want to push me right now, Violet,” Hanson growled, moving toward her with his hand clenched and raised as though he planned to strike her.

Noah stepped between them. “Touch her for any reason and you’ll regret it.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Nope. I’m explaining the facts. You’re a cop. Act like one.”

“What’s going on here?” Detective Ellis snapped as he strode into the hallway. His partner appeared a moment later.

“I’m trying to separate our perps, but they’re not cooperating.” Hanson glared at Violet. “I ought to charge you with obstruction and toss your fine backside into one of our cells.”

“That’s enough, Hanson,” Freeman said. “You’re needed back at the apartment building. We’ll take it from here.”

The cop stared at the detectives for a beat before motioning to his friends. “Let’s go, guys. Duty calls.” Hanson shoulder-checked Violet as he passed her.

Noah steadied his woman and tucked her against his side, fury boiling in his gut. He’d love five minutes alone with that jerk.

“If you want to interview us, you’ll do it with all of us together in the same room.” Violet stared at Ellis.

“That’s not how we do things around here,” he began.

“It is today, buddy. Both men were seriously injured a few hours ago. I’m under doctor’s orders to watch them for signs of distress. I won’t leave them.”

The detectives exchanged glances before Ellis dragged a hand down his face and said, “All right. We’ll try it your way. If any of you interfere with our questioning, we’ll separate you, doctor’s orders or not. Do I make myself clear?”

“If you have a problem with the arrangement, call the emergency room at the hospital and talk to Dr. Wheeler,” Violet returned. “We do it my way or you can wait until our lawyer arrives and talk to her.”

Noah wanted to laugh, but restrained himself. His woman played hardball. No wonder she was one of the best medics Fortress had on staff. “Are we doing this or not? If we are, I need to sit down.”

Ellis motioned toward the interrogation room on his right. “After you, Mann.”

“I’ll bring in extra chairs.” Freeman walked up the hall and returned quickly with two more chairs.

“You’ll need one more,” Grant said.

The detective frowned. “Why?”

“For our lawyer.”

Again, the detectives exchanged a glance. Expression grim, Freeman brought another chair and set it off to the side.

Ellis and Freeman sat across the table from the four operatives and pulled out their notepads and pens. “Just so we’re clear, we’re recording this conversation,” Ellis said, then read them their rights. “How were you injured, Mann?”

“Shrapnel from the apartment building exploding. Same for Grant.”

“What do you know about that explosion? And before you bother denying that you were there, you’ve already confessed to being in the area and being injured by the explosion. So let’s not waste time, all right? Just tell us why you were there and what you know.”

Noah glanced at his watch. At least 30 minutes before Casey would arrive. He glanced at Violet, took her hand in his, and gave a slight nod. The story was hers to tell. If she wandered into dangerous territory, he would call a halt to the interrogation until Casey was in the room.

“I wanted some pictures my sister kept around her apartment,” Violet said. “Noah and the others came with me so I wouldn’t have to face the task alone.”

“It’s a crime scene,” Freeman snapped.

“The crime scene tape was gone.”

“So you broke in and helped yourself to your sister’s valuables?”

Violet stiffened. “I didn’t break in. I have a key and several emails from Cami where she told me that her apartment was a refuge for me if I ever needed it, that I had an open invitation to come and stay.”

“That was before she was murdered in her own living room.” Ellis scribbled in his notebook. “What time did you let yourself in?”

“Five minutes after three.”

Both detectives looked up at that. “How long were you in the apartment?”

“Ten minutes.”

“You left at 3:15, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The bomb went off at 3:17 this morning.” Ellis stared at her. “That’s two minutes after you left the building.”

“Yes.”

“Did you set the bomb?”

“No. I’m a paramedic, not an EOD expert.”

“Why did you leave so fast?”

Violet looked at Noah.

His turn to take up the story. “Violet and I were in the office looking for more pictures.” And those journals he wouldn’t mention to the detectives grilling him and his teammates. They had been out in plain sight. Not his fault if Ellis and Freeman didn’t take them. “I noticed a flashing red light reflected on the wall behind Camilla’s desk. I checked it out and found the bomb under her desk.”

Freeman sneered. “This one was too hard for your friend to handle?”

“Not enough time to dismantle it,” Noah said. “We ran from the apartment, pulled the fire alarm, and pounded on doors as we raced to the stairwell.”

“You have training in EOD, too?”

“It’s my secondary specialty. Fortress cross trains all of us.”

Ellis studied him and Grant for a moment. “Both of you can build a bomb?”

They nodded.

Freeman smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Grant snorted. “Yeah, a dead end.”

“Why do you say that?”

“We might have the training to build a bomb, but we didn’t build or plant an explosive.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for that.”

Noah’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. He glanced at the screen. Perfect timing. He looked at Ellis. “What’s your email address?”

The detective frowned but provided the information.

Noah sent the address to Zane. “You should receive security cam footage in a minute.”

“Why?”

“The footage will show you we carried nothing into the apartment.”

“Where did you get the footage?”

Noah smiled. “We have friends with serious tech skills.”

Ellis scowled. “You used to be a cop. We need proof we can use in court.”

“The faster you eliminate us from the suspect pool, the quicker you can track down the real culprit. I’m sure you’ve already requested the footage. This way you have a head start in moving on to more viable suspects.”

A brisk knock sounded on the door. A uniformed officer opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but their lawyer is here.”

Freeman sighed. “Send him in.” He retrieved the extra chair from the corner and set it by Noah.

Casey Elders entered the room with a large leather bag slung over her shoulder. She was nearly six feet tall, with long black hair and hazel eyes.

Casey held out her hand to Freeman, then Ellis. “Casey Elders. I’m with Fortress Security, and I’m representing Noah Mann and his teammates. I’d like a few minutes to confer with my clients, please. Oh, and turn off the camera and microphone.” She smiled.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ellis and Freeman picked up their notebooks and pens and left the room.

Casey watched the red light under the camera. When the light went off, she turned to the operatives. “Good to see you again, Noah, although I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“How’s your family?”

“They’re great. Thanks for asking.” She dropped into Ellis’s seat and pulled a yellow legal pad and pen from her large bag. “Tell me what’s going on. I have a feeling the detectives won’t be patient for long.”

Noah rattled off a report to the Fortress lawyer, ending with, “Ellis and Freeman are gearing up to charge us with planting that bomb.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Do you have the materials necessary to create the bomb?”

“No,” Noah repeated.

“I do,” Grant said. “The security footage Zane sent will show that we carried nothing into Camilla’s apartment and carried only photographs and journals from the building.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“Both Noah and Grant were injured after the explosion,” Violet said. “Shrapnel wounds. They were treated at the hospital, but need to rest soon.”

“I’ll make that happen.” Casey pushed back from the scarred wooden table and opened the door. “We’re ready,” she said to the detectives waiting in the hall.

Ellis and Freeman returned to their seats, and once again pulled out their notepads and pens. Seconds later, the red light appeared beneath the camera to signal that Noah and his teammates were being recorded.

“Ask your questions, Detectives,” Casey said. “Make them count because you have 90 minutes. At that time, we’ll end the interviews.”

“Wait a minute,” Ellis protested. “You can’t do that. We have an investigation to conduct.”

“And we’ll cooperate within reason. Noah and Grant were injured. They’re under doctor’s orders to rest. I’m sure you don’t want them to go against medical advice. Let’s get busy, boys. The clock’s ticking.”

The detectives exchanged grim glances, then got down to business. They took Noah and the other operatives through their arrival at the apartment building, their every move inside Camilla’s home, and their exit from the building several times.

“You have 30 minutes,” Casey said to the detectives. “Anything in particular you want to focus on?”

“We watched the security footage while you consulted with your lawyer, Violet,” Ellis said. “Didn’t look to me like you were carrying pictures from the apartment.”

“Rayne collected pictures for me.”

Freeman frowned. “What did you take from the apartment?”

“Cami kept a journal every year since she turned thirteen years old.”

“Where were they?”

“Her home office.”

“Where are they now?”

“The SUV. Look, do you really want to waste your time reading about a teenage girl’s troubles?”

“You said she kept a journal every year.” Ellis studied Violet’s face. “Did you find journals for last year and this year?”

Her hand clenched into a fist under Noah’s hand. Violet nodded.

“We don’t need the earlier journals, but we’d like to see the ones from the last two years.”

Violet glanced at Casey.

“Detective Ellis, since my client just lost her twin, I don’t think it’s too much to ask you to copy the journals and give the originals back to Violet.”

Both men scowled. “That’s not the usual procedure,” Ellis snapped.

“Extenuating circumstances, gentlemen. Fortress will even cover the cost of copying the journals. The only thing you’ll be out is a few minutes of your time.” She beamed at them as though the detectives cooperating was a given. Casey turned to Noah. “Where are they in the SUV? I’ll be glad to get them for the detectives.”

Freeman stood. “I’ll go with you. Wouldn’t want you to get lost on the way back to the station.”

She laughed. “I’ll be glad for your company.”

Rayne gave the key fob to Casey. “Black SUV in the parking lot on the east side of the station.”

The lawyer joined Freeman. “Come along, Detective.” They left the room together and returned two minutes later, with Freeman carrying all the journals. He placed them in front of Violet. “Where are the latest journals?”

Violet sifted through them and handed Casey two.

“Very good.” Casey headed for the door again with the detective on her heels. “Let’s make copies so my clients can rest.”

“I’ll make copies if you want to finish the interviews,” Freeman muttered as he followed Casey from the interrogation room.

“Do you have anything you want to add?” Ellis asked the operatives.

Noah glanced at the others, who shook their heads. He picked up his phone and sent copies of the photos he’d taken of Camilla’s apartment. “I sent you photos of how we found Camilla’s apartment before the explosion.”

The detective grabbed his phone and studied each photo. His frown grew deeper as the minutes passed. “This is not how we left the apartment. I don’t understand this.”

“I do.” Violet leaned closer to Ellis. “Either your crime scene team ripped apart Cami’s apartment or someone broke in and tore everything to shreds.”

The detective stiffened. “We didn’t trash your sister’s place.”

“Then someone else did,” Noah said. “The question is why?”

“Looking for something, perhaps.”

Grant shook his head. “Pattern is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whoever broke into the apartment wasn’t looking for anything in particular,” Rayne said. “They were interested in wholesale destruction. The only items spared would have made too much noise to break.”

“No picture frames were broken,” Violet said. “Cami’s dishes were intact. But her furniture was torn up, items dumped from drawers in the nightstands and office desk. I assume you took her computer.”

Ellis nodded.

“The destruction was mean-spirited,” Grant said. “The mess doesn’t appear to be from a methodical search.”

The detective looked at Violet. “Do you know if something was missing from your sister’s apartment?”

“I’ve never been to her apartment. I would notice something personal, like her journals going missing. Otherwise, no.”

“You said you and Camilla were close.”

“We were.”

“You made her come to you. You never came to Morrison to see her.”

“I have terrible memories of growing up here. Cami understood. We got together every couple of months in a neutral place and talked on the phone frequently.”

Ellis looked at the operatives. “You have an idea who trashed the apartment?”

Noah squeezed Violet’s hand. “Camilla’s killer.”

A frown. “Why would he come back to damage her belongings?”

“Perhaps he feared a neighbor heard something the night he killed Violet’s sister and came back later to trash the place.”

“So why come back and double the risk of someone noticing him loitering around the apartment?”

“To make sure he left nothing behind.”

“But returned to damage everything?” Ellis looked skeptical.

Noah didn’t blame him. “If Camilla was murdered by a serial killer, he might want a souvenir of his kill.”

The detective scowled. “There’s no proof this is a serial killer’s work.”

“Have you looked for murders in and around your county with a similar MO?”

“There aren’t any.”

Noah and Grant exchanged glances. Holy smoke. Was Ellis simply spouting the party line from Chief Hanson, or did he really believe Camilla was murdered by a stranger passing through town? The odds of that being true were low.

He turned back to the detective. “Did you look?”

Ellis’s face reddened. “I’m not an idiot,” he snapped.

“Didn’t say you were.” Noah stared hard at the detective. “I know how it is to deal with pressure from those above you in rank.”

“Is that why you quit the force?” he sneered.

That stung. Noah lowered his voice. “Good cops follow leads. Do your job, Detective.”

Freeman and Casey returned with the journals. The detective handed copies to his partner.

Noah stood and held out his hand to Violet. “We’re finished, Casey. If Freeman and Ellis need more information, they can wait until we’ve slept a few hours.”

“Don’t leave the area,” Freeman said as Grant tugged Rayne to her feet and led her toward the hall.

“You know how to contact us.” Noah paused in the doorway. “We have a funeral to plan.”