It sickened Javier to think the shooter was about to focus on Laura.
Minutes ticked by, both men in position, Tower periodically checking his watch.
“Here’s where the shooting began,” McBride said.
A knot of dread in her stomach, Laura watched as the shooter, with his eerie ball of light for a head, held absolutely still—and pulled the trigger. That was the shot that had nearly killed her and sent concrete fragments spraying into her face. It was quickly followed by four more.
On the other side of the screen, Tower turned and ran for the stairs, while the shooter kept firing, the jerk of the rifle the only sign that he’d pulled the trigger. One of those bullets had hit Janet, Laura realized, dread turning to nausea.
Abruptly, the shooter stood and began to pack his gear. He froze and glanced toward the stairwell.
“He’s made Tower. He can see him there.” Javier pointed to a section of the stairway that was exposed. “See?”
The split-screen image became one as Tower reached the fourth floor, his weapon raised. But the shooter was ready for him, squeezing off two shots just as Tower fired. Tower fell back, arched and writhed on the concrete, then went still, a pool of blood spreading around him, while the shooter got quickly into his car and drove away, leaving Tower for dead.
“Stop, please!” Laura had seen enough, the sight of Tower’s suffering and the memories it roused too much. “I can’t.”
Zach stopped the DVD and retrieved it from Laura’s machine. “I’m sorry, Laura. I was hoping that you might recognize something about him.”
Laura wished she had, but without so much as a glimpse of his face, the man who’d tried to kill her was nothing more than a ghostly headless body.
Javier sat in silence for a moment, seeming lost in thought. “So we know Tower knew what was going to happen, and we know he wasn’t the shooter.”
Zach took a gulp of his coffee. “Like I said, the footage raised more questions than it answered.”
“Was he there to take the shooter out and clean up loose ends?”
“If he was, why did he do such a bad job of it?”
While the two men discussed the footage, Laura found herself reliving her last conversation with Tower.
Laura spoke, interrupting Javier and Zach. “What if he was trying to stop the shooter? What if he was trying to protect me?”
Zach seemed to consider this. “I suppose anything is possible, but the best way to protect you would’ve been for him to share what he knew with law enforcement. He’s in extremely critical condition. Apparently the wound and blood loss were so severe that he was thrown into something called adult respiratory distress syndrome and is close to pulmonary failure. But we’ve got him under guard. If he survives, we may get some answers. If not, we’ll have to find those answers ourselves.”
For a time there was silence, each of them lost in thought, the puzzle pieces shifting in Laura’s mind without coming together. Most of the time, the details of an investigation fascinated her. This time, she just felt overwhelmed.
Javier broke the silence. “Whoever the shooter is, he moves like a man with military training.”
“Interesting you should say that. I got the same impression. So did Hunter.” Zach held up the plastic bag with the spent casings once more. “Whoever our terrorist is, the rounds he used all had U.S. military headstamps.”
“Headstamps?” Laura had never heard the term before.
Zach pointed to the flat bottom of one of the casings. “Those are the markings pressed into the bottom of a casing showing when and where it was manufactured.”
Javier shrugged. “That doesn’t tell us a damned thing. He could’ve bought the ammo anywhere—online, at a gun show, on the black market. He could have stolen it. Someone could have bought or stolen it for him. But why would a skilled sniper or hired gun leave his shell casings behind? That’s just sloppy.”
“The casings were clear of prints, so perhaps he didn’t think they mattered. Or maybe the firefight with Tower made him rush. Like I said, lots of questions, not a lot of answers.” Zach pulled out a notepad and glanced through it. “As for the bombing investigation, the FBI has confirmed that all of the bomb components were purchased in the Denver metro area, so our guess is we’re talking someone local, perhaps Al Zahrani.”
Laura had a hard time believing it could be Ali, but she didn’t say that. She knew Zach and all the members of the task force had been working tirelessly to solve this case. “Thank you, Zach. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Zach stood, concern in his gray eyes. “I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you, Laura, but we are doing our best to catch the guys responsible for this and put them behind bars. We’re all working through the weekend, and we won’t stop until you’re safe again.”
Javier held out his hand, and the two men shook. “Thanks.”
“Thank you. Call if anything comes up.”
Laura watched as Javier locked the door behind Zach, then stood and, without saying a word, walked into his embrace.
JAVIER HELPED LAURA finish making supper, keeping the conversation light. She was quiet, almost withdrawn, understandably upset by what she had seen. But she didn’t want to be alone. She came easily into his arms when he reached for her, holding his hand while they ate, as if his touch alone made her feel safer.
The surveillance footage had upset him, too. But he wasn’t afraid—he was pissed off. Whoever that son of a bitch was, Javier wanted him dead. If he was the one to put a bullet through the bastard’s skull, so much the better.
After supper, they did the dishes, then stretched out together on the sofa to watch another episode from season one of
What a strange kind of intimacy they shared. It was like nothing he’d had with a woman before. They were closer than they’d been in Dubai, and yet they hadn’t done more than hold each other at night and kiss a couple of times. Granted, that last kiss had blown his mind, but the longing for more was there.
Oh, hell, yes, it was.
She’d taken a big step today, but he didn’t want to push things and make her uncomfortable. Of course, she had nothing to worry about. Javier had been a special operator for most of his adult life. He’d gone long stretches without a woman, making do with the occasional combat jack to take the edge off. He could handle this.
It was enough to hold her, to sleep with her at night, to know that some part of her wanted him. Why else would she have kissed him?
“Yo, Bates, man, you’d better watch your six!” Javier shouted at the TV, surprising himself as much as Laura. “Thomas and O’Brien are going to bury your ass if you don’t. O’Brien, man, she’s one nasty, conniving bitch.”
His outburst made Laura laugh. “You’re getting into this, aren’t you?”
“Hey, don’t tell West. He would never let me live it down.”
She smiled up at him. “I bet Nate watches it, too. I know Megan does.”
That was a revelation.
Laura listened to Javier’s heart beat beneath her ear, her fingers stroking his forearm. They hadn’t talked about the kiss that had been interrupted. It was as if it hadn’t happened. But it had.
She could still feel the heat of it, her lips tingling, her blood warm, her body in a state of heightened awareness. She was mindful of every breath he took, his scent seeming to surround her, the feel of his hard body beside hers so arousing that she could hardly concentrate on the show.
Her thoughts drifted from one sexual scenario to the other, each more titillating than the last. She could take
