eye he saw a dark-haired woman run across the lawn.
Lucy.
“Get out of here!” he shouted.
Scott kicked Dillon in the head and got up. He staggered forward, saw Lucy only feet from him.
He smiled. “You’re late.”
He took a step toward her.
She pulled a gun from under her sweater. Aimed it at Scott.
“Monique, you won’t kill me.”
She stared at him as if he were insane. That angered Adam more than anything. “Monique!” he said sharply.
“My name is
“Monique, it’s me. Adam. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”
She pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced him in the chest. His mouth dropped open.
“Why, sweetheart. Why?”
She pulled the trigger again. Again.
Adam dropped to his knees. He was dead before he fell face first into the dirt.
“Lucy, stop!” Dillon called, stumbling up. Jack ran at him, held out his hand to pull Dillon up. “Thanks, bro,” Dillon said. Jack nodded curtly, then turned to where Lucy had her empty gun pointed at Adam Scott’s dead body.
Kate ran from the house. She had Scott’s laptop.
“Run!” she yelled. “I can’t stop the bomb!”
Jack removed the gun from Lucy’s hand, grabbed her around the waist, then started for the street.
Local and federal police were pulling up in front of the house. Kate waved them off.
“There’s a bomb! Get away!”
The explosion lifted them all off the ground as they ran. They hit the lawn across the street.
No one moved.
Slowly, Kate rose to her knees, shaking her head to get rid of the ringing, but it stayed with her.
Dillon. Where was Dillon?
Sirens, shouts, and screams filled the air. The last time Kate had seen Dillon was in the front yard. Had he heard her? Had he run far enough? Had he even been able to run?
“Dillon!” she shouted, her voice hoarse from Adam Scott’s hands. She cleared her throat, coughed. The crackle of fire consumed the house that had been Dillon’s. The firefighters were frantically setting up to try to save the neighboring homes.
“Dillon!”
She sat up, looked around. She saw Jack huddled over Lucy on the ground twenty feet away. They were both moving.
She couldn’t lose him now. They hadn’t had any time together, dammit! It wasn’t fair!
Kate stood, pushing back the nausea that threatened. People ran back and forth, SWAT and feds and local police and fire crews. Debris covered a body in Dillon’s front yard. Her mouth fell open and she cried out.
She stumbled back across the street and a fire-fighter stopped her.
“You can’t go there.”
“No, no,” she said, staring at the body. It wasn’t Dillon. The body wore beige slacks. Like Adam Scott had been wearing.
“Kate.”
She heard her name and turned slowly around. There. Dillon. Up against a car parked across the street. She ran to him. Touched his face. Kissed his swollen lips. Buried her face in his neck.
“Oh, God, Dillon. I thought-” She couldn’t say it. She wouldn’t say it.
“I know.” His voice was weak.
She sat back on her knees and saw his leg was bleeding extensively. “Medic!” she shouted as loud as she could. “Medic!”
“I’m okay.” He closed his eyes.
She laughed nervously. He was
Lucy limped over with Jack at her side.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
Dillon nodded. “Luce, I’m fine.”
Kate was concerned about the pallor of Dillon’s skin. He’d lost a lot of blood. She checked his vitals. Strong. Of course. Dillon was the strongest soul she knew. “Scott is dead,” Kate said.
“I know,” Dillon replied. He opened his eyes, searching for her. She clasped his uninjured hand, tears of relief falling freely.
“I’m not sorry I killed him,” Lucy said defiantly. Her eyes had a pained, faraway expression.
It would hit her later, Dillon thought. No one could kill another human being, even an evil bastard like Adam Scott, without conflicted emotions.
Jack asked Kate, “What about other bombs?”
“I didn’t see any more set up, but we need to get this computer to the FBI immediately.”
Quinn Peterson ran over to them. “Where’s Scott?”
“Dead,” Kate said.
“In the explosion?
Kate and Dillon looked at each other. “Yes,” they said in unison.
Jack led Lucy away and Quinn said, “An ambulance is on its way. Hang in there.” He went to coordinate the authorities.
Dillon squeezed Kate’s hand as hard as he could. “I don’t think I’ll be making dinner tonight.”
“Damn.” She leaned over and kissed him.
He touched her throat, where bruises were beginning to form, where dried blood coated her neck. “He hurt you.”
“Well, he hurt you, too,” Kate said. “Now he’s dead.”
She sat against the car next to him, put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I made such a stink about meeting your family.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you too hard.”
“You didn’t. I was just scared. But that fear was nothing compared to the thought of losing you. I don’t want to lose you, Dillon.”
“You won’t, Kate. I love you.”
Jack walked over to them. “Carina has Lucy and there’s an ambulance on the way.” He glanced over at Dillon’s burning house. The first fire truck had arrived. “Your house is a goner.”
“I won’t need it for a while,” Dillon said. “I’m heading out to Washington for a couple weeks.”
“You are?” Kate asked.
“I told you I’d stand by you through the hearings.”
She smiled through her tears. “You meant what you said and you said what you meant.”
Dillon nodded. “One hundred percent.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY MORNING, Kate walked into the scheduled hearing in the Office of Professional Responsibility. She was nervous, she couldn’t help it. Even with Quinn Peterson’s assurances and Dillon waiting for
