Julie Garwood - Slow Burn

"But how do you know…?" Dylan began.

She gave a relieved smile and said. "You'll never guess who called me."

Leaning against the side of a squad car, too weary tomove, Kate quietly watched all the commotion.

Dylan was talking to a lieutenant with Savannah PD, but he kept glancing over at her-probably making sure she didn't disappear again.

The paramedics carried Ewan out of the house on a stretcher. He was still unconscious, but she heard one of the policemen say that Ewan was expected to recover. Whenever he did open his eyes, he'd find himself handcuffed to a hospital bed. There were several charges pending against him. Supplying his brother with a stolen gun that had been used in a crime was going to top the list of offenses.

By now, reporters and cameramen from all the television stations that had been monitoring the 911 calls had arrived, but they were being kept outside the gates.

Most of the cameramen focused on the house, expectantly waiting for the suspect to step outside, but Vanessa was getting some attention, too. She was hysterical, and this time it wasn't an act.

"You're making a terrible mistake," she sobbed. "I'm a victim here! I was trying to save lives when I called nine-one-one. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm a victim!" she screamed.

She had just been handcuffed by an agent who was telling her she had the right to remain silent. When he was finished reading her her rights, he asked her if she understood. She pulled herself together long enough to say yes, she understood, but then she started screaming again. Her shrieks were grating and terribly annoying.

"Really, lady, you have the right to remain silent. I strongly urge you to exercise that right."

A detective who had loaned Kate his cell phone came back to retrieve it. Handing it to him, she was thanking him when Dylan joined her.

"Did you get hold of Isabel?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yes, and she's just fine. I knew she would be, but I needed to hear her voice. I also called Kiera, and she's okay, too," she said. "When Nate came running into Smith and Wesson's conference room and told me Reece had taken Isabel and that she'd been hurt, I panicked. I didn't think twice about following him out the back door. The only thing I remember is getting in his car… and then I woke up on the library floor."

"It's good to know they're okay, but what about you? Are you okay?" He put his arm around her and squeezed her.

"Yes," she assured him. She looked up at the house and asked, "Why are they taking so long to bring Nate out?"

"They're doing everything by the book," he said. "And it hasn't been long. You're just anxious to get out of here, aren't you?"

"Could we leave now?"

"No."

Two paramedics hurried across the driveway to Kate. Dylan saw them coming. "They're going to want to check you out," he said.

"I'm fine, really."

One of the paramedics, hearing her protest, said, "We should look you over, take your vitals and all." He flashed a penlight in her eyes. "Not dilated."

"Kate, go with them, make sure. I'll wait here," Dylan said.

Though Kate insisted none of this was necessary, she walked to the ambulance with them and let them take her blood pressure and pulse. She admitted to herself that she wasn't feeling all that great. She was sure that her nausea wasn't caused by the drug she'd been given. Finding out the truth about Nate Hallinger had made her sick. She didn't mention her queasy stomach to the paramedics.

Once she'd been declared no worse for the wear, a paramedic offered his hand and was assisting her out of the ambulance when he glanced up the hill and saw several men exit the house.

"Hey, they're bringing the suspect down the hill now. Uh-oh. It looks like the detective you were with is waiting for him, and look at his face." He turned to his partner. "We may not be done here, after all."

Dylan had turned away, and Kate couldn't see his face. She ran to him, praying Dylan wouldn't do anything crazy. No, of course he wouldn't. His hand wasn't on his gun. That was a good sign, wasn't it? And his arms were folded across his chest. His stance suggested he was relaxed.

That wasn't a good sign. She wished she could see Dylan's expression. She'd know then.

"Dylan," she called out.

"Stay back, Kate."

She reached him. He didn't look at her when he said, "I told you to stay back."

She put her hand on his arm. "Since when have I ever done anything you've told me to do?"

"Kate…" The warning was in his voice.

The ambulance was about ten feet behind her. Dylan grabbed her hand and practically dragged her there. "Get inside."

She stood her ground. "You aren't going to do anything stupid, are you?"

"No."

She wasn't sure she could believe him. "Don't even talk to him."

"He was going to kill you," he reminded her.

Agent Kline shouted something to Dylan.

"Stay here, Kate," Dylan said. "Please."

"All right," she relented.

He looked as if he didn't believe her. "I mean it."

Dylan turned and walked toward Nate, stopping when he was just a few feet away. Kline had a grip on Nate's arm as he led him down the hill. He'd taken great pleasure in putting the handcuffs on the detective. Police officers and detectives were moving in, forming a circle around them as they headed toward a squad car.

Nate glared at Dylan. "This is never going to stick. You've got nothing."

"We have enough," Kline said cheerfully.

"If you have anything, it's circumstantial."

Dylan's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You sure have had your troubles, haven't you? And I'll bet you thought it was all gonna be so easy. One bomb, and boom, problem solved. Kate's dead before she ever finds out about the will."

"No, you're wrong."

"How long were you with Savannah PD?" Kline asked Nate.

Dylan answered for him. "Long enough to meet Vanessa and start shacking up with her. It was common knowledge that she was sleeping around. Come to find out-and I did find out-you were the one."

"You hatched your plan and transferred to the Charleston po-lice force," Kline said. "You had to distance yourself from Vanessa, and you also wanted to find out everything you could about Kate."

"I transferred because there was an opening, and I wanted a change," Nate argued.

"What you wanted was eighty million dollars, you prick," Dylan said. "Vanessa was behind the camera filming the old man. Compton trusted her, and he asked her to film his video. She must have been real pissed off when Compton looked into the camera and said he was giving it all to Kate. He'd already changed the will so it wouldn't do her any good to kill him after the fact."

"She told you all about it, didn't she?" Kline said.

"You can't prove-" Nate objected.

"You're the one who checked her alibi the day the video was made. You said it was airtight. Why would I think you were lying?" Dylan said.

Nate didn't respond, but then, Dylan didn't expect him to. "Did you have the connections to get to the Florist, or did you go to Jackman and offer him a deal he couldn't refuse?"

"You can't prove a damn thing. This is all speculation."

"It got complicated, didn't it?" Kline said, ignoring his protests. "Kate wouldn't cooperate. Two explosions, and she's stayed alive. Her good luck, and your bad. Did you buy all three bombs at the same time, or did you have to keep going back for more?"

"You knew Kate would be at Carl's party," Dylan said. "You knew before it was in the paper. Carl was your source, even though he didn't know it. He likes to promote Kate's company, and he does a lot of charity events in Savannah. Compton mentioned Vanessa's good works had helped uphold the MacKenna name. Vanessa was smart enough not to meet Carl, but she was always there, listening, wasn't she? You knew way in advance and had time to plan it just right."