Page 8 of Wild Oblivion

He may not have been capable.

We left and walked back down the hallway toward the elevators.

Jack muttered, “You think maybe that guy is out of his mind and mistook Rudolph for someone else?”

I sighed, “We may never find out.”

The blip of heart monitors and the wheeze of ventilators drifted into the hallway. We couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. Talk about depressing.

My phone buzzed with a call from the sheriff as we arrived at the elevators. Jack hit the call button.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I need you two nitwits to get down to the wharf?”

“What’s going on?”

“You didn’t hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“A bomb went off at the old Crab & Claw.”

My brow wrinkled with confusion. Seemed like an odd target. “Didn’t that place close down last month? Why blow it up?”

“Insurance fraud, maybe. Who knows? At least the place was empty.”

“Any casualties?”

“Nothing major. I think a few tourists got hit with shards of exploding glass.”

“We’re on our way,” I said.

We stepped into the elevator when the doors opened and plunged down to the lobby. JD and I ran across the lot to the Porsche.

It didn’t take long to get to the wharf. Emergency lights flashed. EMTs and paramedics triaged people for minor cuts and abrasions. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered, snapping photos and grabbing cellphone video.

Debris lay scattered everywhere. The building that used to be on the edge of the water was non-existent now. It had been vaporized.

The Bomb Squad and the ATF sorted through the rubble.

"What do we know?" I asked the sheriff.

"Building is owned by Bruce Pickens. Closed down last month. That place has been slowing down for years. Myguess is the owner's upside down. Needs the insurance money for a remodel or to cash out. If that's the case, he's going to spend a long time in federal prison.”

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"No. But that's what you guys are gonna do.”

Paris and her news crew were on the scene, capturing footage of the destruction.

Seagulls hung on the breeze, going about their business as usual.

There was something off about the scene. There wasn’t as much debris as I would have expected. The acrid stench of explosive material didn't linger in the air.

It was a good thing the building was isolated. The old Crab & Claw had been built over the water, away from other restaurants and shops on the wharf. All that remained were bits and pieces of the floor and a few of the pilings.

My phone buzzed my pocket. I pulled the device out and looked at the screen.