Lynette Eason - Explosive Force

“I never said he was the bomber. But I do know we chased a guy with a gun.”

“Heidi...” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Backup arrived then, cutting him off, but he held her gaze for a moment longer before turning his attention to the OSI investigators clamoring for answers.

* * *

Standing back from the fence so she didn’t trample any evidence, but close enough to watch the action, Heidi drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She was glad Nick’s attention was off her for the moment, but it did little to calm her.

She’d nearly been killed in an explosion, and someone had been lurking at her house and then held her at gunpoint—all in one night.

She ran a hand over her ponytail, hoping she’d hidden how shaken she’d been, how frightened. Pushing the residual fear aside, she pulled her voice-activated recorder from her pocket and hit Play. Holding the device to her ear, she heard herself call out to Bobby, then the explosion, the aftermath, Bobby begging her to hold his hand, her reassurances.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she sent up a silent prayer for the young man. She’d make her notes, then turn the recording over to OSI.

“Heidi?”

She stiffened at the sound of John Robinson’s voice. Great. Of course he would show up. And of course, even in the midst of all of the chaos surrounding her, he would hone in on her like Annie on a bomb. No offense to Annie. She grimaced, then smoothed her features before turning to face her nemesis. John, the lead reporter for the Red Rose Killer case—and the bane of her existence at the moment—hurried toward her. She couldn’t seem to escape the man.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re supposed to be covering the break-ins and medal thefts.”

“I am, John. I was on my way home when...things happened. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” He pulled out a pad and paper. “What did happen?”

Oh, no. No way was she letting him steal this story from her. “John, you’re covering the Red Rose Killer, not everything else.”

“I’m covering anything that could be related to him. I heard a couple of MPs speculating that Sullivan was back on base and causing trouble. So, see? This is my story. So...give me details.”

“I’m still sorting it all out.” She shoved a stray hair from her face. “I’m heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

“Heidi—”

She waved and started walking away from him.

“What’s the rush?” he called. “You got to go get your blog post ready?”

Heidi froze, did a one-eighty and marched back to the man who’d been a thorn in her side from the day he stepped onto the base and into the newspaper office. She stopped in front of him, ignoring the stares from those who’d heard his comment. “Once and for all, John Robinson, I am not the anonymous blogger. So stop spreading that lie before I sue you for slander.”

A hand curled around her right fist. A fist she didn’t even remember making. Looking sideways, she found Nick beside her.

“He’s not worth it,” he said softly.

Drawing in a deep breath, she made a conscious effort to push down her anger. Nick was right. If she punched John, her career would be over. And she’d worked too hard to let him provoke her into losing everything. But she would not let him stand there and accuse her of being the anonymous blogger who was plaguing the investigation.

She pulled her hand from Nick’s, and leaving John with his jaw hanging, she executed another about-face and headed toward her house. She was tired. Beat, actually. So exhausted it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. Not even the adrenaline sputter from the confrontation with Robinson did much to help her energy level.

Once she reached her home, she slipped the key in the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Peace washed over her as she shut the door behind her. She drew in a deep breath and let the atmosphere calm her. Heidi loved her home. It may look boring and ordinary from the outside, but the inside was all her.

Blues and tans, with a splash of orange here and there, her home allowed her to breathe and cast off the worries of the day.

Except she couldn’t stop thinking about Bobby and wondering if he had known the man who’d run from the training center only moments before it had exploded. Or was Bobby just an innocent caught up in a dangerous incident?

A knock on the door sent her temper spiraling.

She yanked it open. “I told you—” She snapped her mouth shut when she saw Nick standing there with Annie at his side. “Oh. I thought you were someone else.”

“Robinson?”

“What makes you think that?”

A corner of his mouth tilted up. “Sarcasm looks cute on you.”

This time it was her jaw that hung.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

She closed her mouth. “Of course.” Stepping back, she let them enter, then shut the door. “Den is to your left.”

“Thanks. Your place is similar to mine. Smaller, of course.” Base housing for those who didn’t live with family members was small. Hers was a one-bedroom residence, but at least she didn’t have to do the dorm-style living other airmen were stuck with. “But it sure is nicer than mine. It’s...calm and soothing. I like it.”

“Thanks. That’s what I was going for when I picked out the colors. The days around here can be so long and hectic that I wanted something that reminded me of the ocean. Peace and calm.”

He settled on her tan couch and Annie curled up at his feet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m—” She stopped. “I was going to say ‘I’m fine,’ but I’m not sure that’s true. I’m actually stressed and annoyed beyond everything with John Robinson. That man pushes me to the very edge.” She shot him a look through her lashes. “Just in case you didn’t pick up on that.”

“I think I might have.”

“Thank you, by the way, for keeping me from slugging him. I don’t think I would have, even as much as I wanted to, but I can’t say for sure that I would have walked away had you not been there.”

“I don’t think anyone would have blamed you, but yeah. You’re welcome.”

“I’ll also admit I’m shaken from the explosion and the possibility of being shot, but mostly, I’m extremely tired of everyone thinking I’m the anonymous blogger.” She let the last word out on a huff and sank into the recliner opposite the couch. At his startled expression, she wished she could retract the words, but it was too late now.

“And you’re not? The anonymous blogger, I mean?”

She didn’t have the energy to do more than scowl at him. “No, I’m not. I wouldn’t do that. And besides, I don’t even have the facts that are being reported in the blog. Every time I read it, I learn something new.” She laughed. “That blogger is someone who has access to information I only wish I did.”

His eyes searched hers and he gave a slow nod. “I think I believe you.”

She wilted. “Really? You think?”

“Yes.”

“Well...thanks. I think .” She sighed. “If you believe me, do you have any thoughts on who it could be?”

“No.”

“Not that you would tell me, anyway, right?”

He raised a brow. “I knew Boyd from basic training, but I didn’t have much contact with him. I don’t know who he hung out with other than what we’ve managed to dig up during the investigation—and, of course, the victims.”

“That’s probably a good thing. Not knowing him too well, I mean. You don’t want to be on his radar.”

“No kidding. So...” He cleared his throat. “Now that we’re away from all the craziness, would you tell me one more time what you saw tonight?”