Kathleen Long - Reluctant Witness

Was it possible the township inspector had done something to cause the series of explosions? Wade drew in a deep breath, then sighed. Not likely. What had happened here today was no accident. He’d been targeted. Wade knew it in his gut, as much as he wanted to deny it.

Once they were within earshot of each other, Forbes spoke. “The sixth incendiary device didn’t blow.”

Incendiary device. Sonofa—

“Signature’s consistent with Project Liberation,” the investigator continued. “I’ve called in the Feds.”

Project Liberation.

Ecoterrorism.

Wade’s stomach did a slow sideways pitch. He’d known developing this community on the fringe of the South Jersey Pinelands might affront certain ecologically minded types, but he’d gone through the proper channels, including community meetings and hearings. His plan had been approved with flying colors, to the liking of everyone he’d met.

Obviously, not to the liking of the powers within the Project Liberation organization.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

The investigator nodded, then gestured for Wade to follow him. They made their way around the houses until they stood close to where the third shell smoldered.

Forbes pointed at a portion of the home’s back wall.

Two words had been spray painted in black. No Sprawl.

“I’ve read about this.” Wade uttered the words on the heels of a frustrated breath. “I didn’t know they’d developed an interest in the Pine Barrens.”

“Apparently, they have,” Forbes answered.

“Can I go inside?” Wade jerked a thumb toward the only unscathed home.

Forbes shook his head. “Can’t do that. We need to keep the specifics quiet. Chain of evidence. That sort of thing.”

Wade frowned. “Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this?”

The other man shrugged. “Don’t take this personally, but one of the first things we look at is possible insurance fraud.”

Wade pointed to the spray-painted graffiti. “Even with this?”

“Anyone can buy a can of spray paint.”

Forbes’s attention was pulled away as a dark sedan eased to a stop behind a ladder truck, its tires sinking into the now thick mud. “Task force is here,” he said as he walked away from Wade, making it clear their discussion was over.

“Wade. Long time no see.” The driver of the car raised his hand in greeting. “Forbes.”

“McCann.” Wade and Forbes spoke simultaneously.

Detective Adam McCann was one of Wade’s oldest friends. He was also the newly appointed head of the county task force on Homeland Security.

“What have we got?” McCann asked as he stopped next to Wade, momentarily clasping a hand on his shoulder. “You doing all right?”

Wade nodded and Forbes jerked a thumb toward the smoldering houses behind them. “Clean evidence in the sixth house. Matches the devices in the other five.”

“Liberation?” McCann asked.

“Signature’s there.” Forbes nodded.

“Any word on the inspector?” Wade asked.

McCann pursed his lips and gave a quick shake of his head. “Not yet. I called in on the way over here. Doesn’t look good, though.”

“Damn.” Wade dropped his gaze to the ground.

“We’ll get them.” McCann stepped toward one of the burned-out shells. “Let’s take a look before the Feds get here and screw everything up.”

“Follow me,” Forbes answered. He stopped in his tracks when Wade moved to follow. “This won’t take long.”

Wade stood silently as he watched the two disappear into the skeleton of a five-thousand-square-foot estate home. He moved toward McCann’s car and rested one hip on the fender.

Project Liberation.

Chances were if he rebuilt, they’d strike again. But maybe McCann and his task force could take them down. He didn’t know much about the ecoterrorism group, but he knew they were very careful, and very clean. They left their signature, but nothing else. Nothing that would point to any one individual.

Their organization prided itself on the lack of any sort of paper trail. One suspected bomber had been arrested out in Montana, but Wade couldn’t remember hearing anything else.

A sudden movement in the woods beyond the homes captured his attention, sending all thoughts of Project Liberation far from his mind.

The flash of long, auburn hair was unmistakable. Even after all these years, he knew the owner’s identity immediately. He’d been admiring that particular head of hair since high school.

Kerri Nelson.

She and her son lived just on the other side of the dense foliage. But why would she show up at the crime scene? Morbid curiosity? Not her style.

Even more importantly, why had she run? The familiar old guilt twisted at his insides. She’d obviously seen him and wanted to get as far away as she could, as quickly as possible.

Adam McCann emerged from the house alone, and Wade pulled his focus out of the past and into the present.

“Hop in. We’ll talk,” Adam said as he pulled open the car’s front door.

When they’d both settled into their seats, Adam handed an unopened cup of coffee to Wade, then took a sip from a second one.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

Wade shot his friend a sharp glare. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“Good,” McCann answered. “I still have to question you.”

“When?” Wade drew in a deep breath and took a hit of the bitter coffee.

“Later’s good. Now’s better.”

“I can follow you to the station.” Wade met his friend’s visual scrutiny head-on. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Hell of a thing.” McCann turned his gaze back to the smoldering rubble. “Insured?”

“Always,” Wade answered.

“We’re not going to get anywhere without a witness, you know that, right?” The skin between McCann’s eyes puckered into a crease. “These people are like ghosts. Just about impossible to catch.”

Wade nodded, disappointment balling inside him. “I figured as much. What about the inspector?”

“It’ll be a miracle if he recovers, but right now he’s our only hope. The scene is clean. They knew what they were doing.”

He put down his coffee and pinned Wade with a glare. “No one else scheduled to be out here today?”

Wade shook his head. “We were waiting on the inspection.”

“Well—” McCann pulled in a sharp breath “—we’ll question surrounding residents. Make sure no one was out here at the time of the blast. I’ll get that started while you and I head downtown.”

The image of Kerri’s retreating back flashed through Wade’s mind. Should he tell McCann she’d been at the scene? After all, how long could she have been there? Certainly not long enough to be responsible in any way. The investigator had walked the entire scene and the surrounding woods. If Forbes had seen her, they would have heard about it.

Wade reached for the door handle, suddenly needing to get out of the cramped space. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“See if you can come up with a list of anyone who might hold a grudge against you.”

McCann’s words stopped Wade cold. He hesitated, half-in and half-out of the car.

“I thought the signature was consistent with Project Liberation?”

McCann nodded, narrowing his gaze. “True. But they’ve hit enough targets for their signature to be known. Can’t rule out a copycat.”

He twisted on the ignition, and Wade pushed himself out of the car.

“See you in a few,” McCann called out just as Wade slammed the door.

Wade slapped his palm against the glass and stepped clear of the car’s tires as McCann pulled away.

Anyone who might hold a grudge against you.

McCann’s words echoed in his brain as he headed for his truck.