Keeper of the Bride

“Nina,” he murmured. At once he began to move toward her, began to push, then shove his way through the crowd. “Nina!”

She caught sight of him, struggling to reach her. Now she was moving as well, frantically plunging into the gathering of onlookers. They found each other, fell into each other’s embrace. And at that moment, there was no one else in the world for Sam, no one but the woman he was holding. She felt so very precious in his arms, so easily taken from him.

With a sudden start, he became acutely aware of the crowd. All these people, pressing in on them. “I’m getting you out of here,” he said. Hugging her close to his side, he guided her toward his car. The whole time, he was scanning faces, watching for any sudden movements.

Only when he’d bundled her safely into the Taurus did he allow himself a deep breath of relief.

“Gillis!” he called. “You’re in charge here!”

“Where you going?”

“I’m taking her somewhere safe.”

“But—”

Sam didn’t finish the conversation. He steered the car out of the crowd and they drove away.

Drove north.

Nina was staring at him. At the bruise on his cheek, the plaster dust coating his hair. “My God, Sam,” she murmured. “You’ve been hurt—”

“A little deaf in one ear, but otherwise I’m okay.” He glanced at her and saw that she didn’t quite believe him. “I ducked out just before it blew. It was a five-second delay detonator. Set off by opening the door.” He paused, then added quietly, “It was meant for you.”

She said nothing. She didn’t have to; he could read the comprehension in her gaze. This bombing was no mistake, no random attack. She was the target and she could no longer deny it.

“We’re chasing down every lead we have,” he said. “Yeats is going to question Daniella again, but I think that’s a dead end. We did get a partial fingerprint off the warehouse bomb, and we’re waiting for an ID. Until then, we’ve just got to keep you alive. And that means you have to cooperate. Do exactly what I tell you to do.” He gave an exasperated sigh and clutched the steering wheel tighter. “That was not smart, Nina. What you did today.”

“I was angry. I needed to get away from all you cops.”

“So you storm out of headquarters? Without telling me where you’re going?”

“You threw me to the wolves, Sam. I expected Yeats to clap the handcuffs on me. And you delivered me to him.”

“I had no choice. One way or the other, he was going to question you.”

“Yeats thinks I’m guilty. And since he was so sure of it, I thought…I thought you must have your doubts as well.”

“I have no doubts,” he said, his voice absolutely steady. “Not about you. And after this latest bomb, I don’t think Yeats’ll have any doubts either. You’re the target.”

The turnoff to Route 95—the Interstate — was just ahead. Sam took it.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m getting you out of town. Portland isn’t a safe place for you. So I have another spot in mind. A fishing camp on Coleman Pond. I’ve had it for a few years. You’ll be roughing it there, but you can stay as long as you need to.”

“You won’t be staying with me?”

“I have a job to do, Nina. It’s the only way we’ll get the answers. If I do my job.”

“Of course, you’re right.” And she looked straight ahead at the road. “I forget sometimes,” she said softly, “that you’re a cop.”

ACROSS THE STREET from the police line, he stood in the thick of the crowd, watching the bomb investigators scurry about with their evidence bags and their notebooks. Judging by the shattered glass, the debris in the street, the blast had been quite impressive. But of course he’d planned it that way.

Too bad Nina Cormier was still alive.

He’d spotted her just moments before, being escorted through the crowd by Detective Sam Navarro. He’d recognized Navarro at once. For years he’d followed the man’s career, had read every news article ever written about the Bomb Squad. He knew about Gordon Gillis and Ernie Takeda as well. It was his business to know. They were the enemy, and a good soldier must know his enemy.

Navarro helped the woman into a car. He seemed unusually protective — not like Navarro at all, to be succumbing to romance on the job. Cops like him were supposed to be professionals. What had happened to the quality of civil servants these days?

Navarro and the woman drove away.

There was no point trying to follow them; another opportunity would arise.

Right now he had a job to do. And only two days in which to finish it.

He gave his gloves a little tug. And he walked away, unnoticed, through the crowd.

BILLY “THE SHOWMAN” Binford was happy today. He was even grinning at his attorney, seated on the other side of the Plexiglas barrier.

“It’s gonna be all right, Darien,” said Billy. “I got everything taken care of. You just get ready to negotiate that plea bargain. And get me out of here, quick.”

Darien shook his head. “I told you, Liddell’s not in a mood to cut any deals. He’s out to score big with your conviction.”

“Darien, Darien. You got no faith.”

“What I got is a good grip on reality. Liddell’s aiming for a higher office. For that, he’s got to put you away.”

“He won’t be putting anyone away. Not after Saturday.”

“What?”

“You didn’t hear me say nothing, okay? I didn’t say nothing. Just believe me, Liddell won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me about it.”

Billy regarded his attorney with a look of both pity and amusement. “You know what? You’re like that monkey with his paws over his ears. Hear no evil. That’s you.”

“Yeah,” Darien agreed. And he nodded miserably. “That’s me exactly.”

A FIRE CRACKLED in the hearth, but Nina felt chilled to the bone. Outside, dusk had deepened, and the last light was fading behind the dense silhouettes of pine trees. The cry of a loon echoed, ghostlike, across the lake. She’d never been afraid of the woods, or the darkness, or of being alone. Tonight, though, she was afraid, and she didn’t want Sam to leave.

She also knew he had to.

He came tramping back into the cottage, carrying an armload of firewood, and began to stack it by the hearth. “This should do you for a few days,” he said. “I just spoke to Henry Pearl and his wife. Their camp’s up the road. They said they’d check up on you a few times a day. I’ve known them for years, so I know you can count on them. If you need anything at all, just knock on their door.”

He finished stacking the wood and clapped the dirt from his hands. With his shirtsleeves rolled up and sawdust clinging to his trousers, he looked more like a woodsman than a city cop. He threw another birch log on the fire and the flames shot up in a crackle of sparks. He turned to look at her, his expression hidden against the backlight of fire.

“You’ll be safe here, Nina. I wouldn’t leave you alone if I had even the slightest doubt.”

She nodded. And smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“There’s a fishing pole and tackle box in the kitchen, if you feel like wrestling with a trout. And feel free to wear anything you find in the closet. None of it’ll fit, but at least you’ll be warm. Henry’s wife’ll drop by some, uh, women’s wear tomorrow.” He paused and laughed. “Those probably won’t fit either. Since she’s twice