The rain had slowed while they were in the café but now it came down in sheets again. “Really? It’s like it was just waiting for us to finish our coffee. Can we run?”
He frowned and subtly shook his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling that I can’t explain. I got that right before the vehicle went for you. Let’s take mine instead. I’ll send deputies to bring yours back.”
“What? No, that’s not going to work for me.” Tori reached into her bag to dig for her keys.
When she glanced up, Ryan’s eyes had widened.
Tori turned in time to see the grille of a vehicle heading right toward them!
As if in slow motion, she and Ryan gripped hands and ran toward the back of the building. He yelled at Tom. “Get away. Move out of the way!”
Tom looked up, startled, and then his expression filled with horror. He dropped the glass mugs he was holding and then ran to the door that led to the kitchen. He opened the door and waved them in. “In here! Come in here!”
The vehicle crashed through the plate glass window and it shattered behind them as the engine revved and the ceiling crumbled. Tori and Ryan ducked as they ran forward and propelled themselves through the door that Tom held open for them.
Tori feared their efforts to escape wouldn’t be enough as the three of them kept running, continuing to the back of the kitchen. Tom held another door wide for them that opened up to the alley behind the strip of buildings. Still running, they rushed outside and into the rain.
Ryan got on his cell and called emergency services and then the local police, as well as the sheriff’s department, to let them know his version of what happened, all while he peered at her. Done with his business, he tucked his cell away.
“I need to check on the driver,” he said. “But I also need to keep you safe.”
“I’m going with you to see who was driving,” she said.
Ryan scowled.
To Tom, he said, “Sorry we brought trouble to your workplace, Tom. Please hang around so we can take your statement.”
“Cool, man. I’m sorry this happened, too.”
“Please don’t go back inside the building.”
“I can just wait in my car. It’s over there.” He pointed to a small gray sedan parked in the alley.
“Okay. Someone will come for you to take your statement, if you want to wait there.”
Ryan started jogging around the building.
She followed him around to the front to get a better look at the damage.
“It’s not stable,” he said. “I don’t want you anywhere near that building.”
She peered inside without going in. “I don’t see anyone in the car.”
“He or she could be unconscious, but I think you’re right. The door is open. Looks like the perp fled.”
“Was this the car you said tried to run me over?”
Frowning, he nodded.
“Ryan?” Tori sniffed. “I smell gas. Do you think the crash severed a gas line?”
He tugged her across the street as a concussive force slammed into them and drove them forward.
SEVEN
Ryan weighed her down. Once again he’d protected her. She was grateful, but she also couldn’t breathe. She pushed against him and squirmed.
“Ryan, I’m okay.” She croaked out. “Can you let me up now? We have to quit doing this.”
“Funny. And no, I don’t ever want to let you up again.”
“Stop joking. This isn’t the time. I... I can’t breathe.”
He crawled from her, stood and assisted her up as he looked her up and down. “Are you okay? Did the blast hurt you?”
She sucked in a few gasps for breath. “No, I don’t think so. You knocked the air from me, that’s all.” Or the blast had done that, but if that was the case, she would have some organ damage, too, except she felt okay. It wasn’t the blast but Ryan’s protective nature that had caused the minor issue.
Concern and regret filled his features. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Despite the dire circumstances, Tori offered him a soft smile. “I’ll probably be sporting a few bruises tomorrow—” she glanced across the street “—but those are nothing compared to what Tom’s café will look like after the fire is done with it.” Flames shot through the front and licked the roof. The insurance office next to the café didn’t have any noticeable damage yet, but the structures could be unstable. Still, they were far enough away that they could be all right.
Ryan’s cell rang and he answered, but he kept a grip on her arm.
A crowd started to gather, probably including the insurance staff, those in the laundromat and people who lived in the apartment complex. Was Dee James among them? Early on, she’d searched for his picture and found him—a redheaded guy in his late twenties. But she didn’t see him among those watching the explosion.
Of course the rain had stopped right when it could have been useful dousing the fire. She shook her head, unable to understand the weather or the events that led up to this moment.
Sorrow and anger gutted her. Could the café be in flames because she and Ryan had chosen to drink a cup of coffee in there? She covered her mouth to hold back sobs. Reminded herself she was an FBI agent and needed to act the part. And as an agent on leave, here unofficially, she wanted to help. But how?
The best help she could offer at the moment was to get out of here. Ryan needed to focus on this situation and not hover around her to protect her.
When he ended the call, she said, “Ryan, you need to do your job and I need to leave. I’m just going to go home.”
Instead of letting her go, he gripped both of her arms and turned her to
