Jacob’s assurance that Luke was going to be fine eased some of her worry. “That’s great, sir.” Should she shake his hand? She fumbled with her iPad as her mind scrambled. “But I’m sorry for your losses today, sir.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Faith has the lead on this case,” Dale said.
Jacob eyed her with shrewd speculation before he responded. “I’m not sure when we’ll get Luke and Zane back in the office, but until then, my remaining agents will give you their full cooperation.”
“Thank—”
A commotion from the building interrupted her. Heavily clad figures from the bomb squad stepped out. Dale and Jacob rushed forward. Faith followed.
This was her investigation after all.
“What do you have?” Jacob yelled from twenty yards away.
“Sir, we went through with our dog, and he didn’t alert to anything.” The woman hidden behind protective gear held up a hand. “But the building hasn’t been cleared. ATF wants to do another sweep with a couple of their dogs.”
Dale and Jacob launched into a debate about whether to let the ATF handle the bomb aspects of the case. Faith tuned them out. She was usually in favor of keeping the investigation in-house, and the FBI had solid bomb/explosive investigative capabilities. But she knew a couple of the ATF agents from the Joint Terrorism Task Force, and they were top notch. She wouldn’t mind them taking care of this part of the investigation.
While Dale and Jacob hammered out the jurisdictional complications, Faith’s mind whirled with possibilities. It wasn’t easy to get into a federal agency. It’s not like the locations were secret, but you needed a badge, you had to sign in, get past security guards. How would anyone have gotten a bomb into their office?
“When can I get back inside?” Jacob’s tone made it clear that heads would roll if the answer wasn’t “Right now.”
“Can’t say, sir.” The bomb tech backed away. Smart move. “You’ll have to talk to my supervisor. She’s in the command center vehicle on the other side of the building.” She pointed with a heavily gloved hand and then walked in that direction.
“I’ll come with you.” Dale clapped a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned to Faith. “I suggest you go visit the scenes. There’s nothing you can do here at the moment. I’ll stay in touch.”
Faith fumed as she wound her way back to her car. Nothing she could do? The whole office was on lockdown and could still be in the crosshairs of a killer, and she’d been dismissed from the action.
She slid behind the steering wheel and restarted the GPS directions to Jared Smith’s home.
She didn’t want to admit it, but Dale had a point. The mess at the Secret Service office would quickly become a jurisdictional nightmare as everyone argued about who was in charge.
The answer was the FBI.
Not because the FBI was always in charge. This wasn’t TV, where the FBI always jumped in and took over the case, but in this situation the jurisdictional precedent was set. The FBI not only had the case but also had the resources to do whatever ballistics and forensics might be needed. The ATF would be a welcome addition to the alphabet soup, but they would report all findings to her.
What was so hard about that?
When she pulled to the curb beside Jared Smith’s home, she spotted the jackets of six different agencies.
Maybe it wasn’t as clear as she’d thought.
3
FAITH HAD SEENplenty of death and destruction in her career, but today had been a more concentrated dosage than she ever cared to consume again.
Jared Smith’s home hadn’t just burned. It looked like a malevolent hand had reached through the walls, crushed every timber into dust, and then dropped a match in the middle of it for good measure.
They’d identified the body from dental records in record time, but he was Secret Service and his files were easily accessible.
In contrast, a section of taped-off indoor track was the only clue that anything unusual had happened at the site of Michael Weaver’s death. The forensics team had found the dart, but so far that was their only clue. The gym’s video surveillance was already being analyzed in the hope of getting a lead on the shooter. Dale had joined her as she was finishing at the gym, and while he’d been in control of his emotions, she didn’t envy the forensics techs she’d left with him at the scene.
Faith had pulled through her favorite fast-food drive-through at two. The chicken sandwich and Cherry Coke—number three so far—had been soothing to her clenched stomach. But now,standing inside the crime scene tape where Luke and Zane had been ambushed, she regretted the decision to eat.
Blood. Their blood. Splattered and spilled.
Luke Powell was in the hospital with one gunshot wound, abrasions, cuts requiring multiple stitches, and according to the agent standing post outside his room an hour ago, a very bad attitude.
