"Chief, we have no intention to shut the place down. I spoke to the hospital's president and chief medical officer; we have a plan. The hospital is bringing in technical people to facilitate this, but there will be some inconvenience. DHS personnel will be stationed on every floor. Chief, could your personnel secure the lobby and cafeteria?" Mike's jaw tightened.
"This will be a nightmare. The mayor wants calm."
"Chief, I don't give a rat's ass what the mayor wants. This is a Department of Homeland Security operation. This is not my first production. I am very familiar with the methods necessary to control the actors, audience, and crew. I don't think you want any more deaths in your small town. The worst kind of assailant is a bomber. We need to figure out who the target was and then why. Have I made myself clear?" The Air Force Major in Mike appeared.
When Ford knocked on the door, the tension from the room squirted out like mustard from a bottle. "You need to view this." He held a tablet in his hand. Zach waved him in and made introductions.
"I pulled security footage from the garage. The car is parked against the north wall. The explosion emanated from where Mr. Bailey was seated. The flash came from the east—a high-powered rifle is the only thing that could cause that. We have people on the rooftops searching for the vantage point to pull off the shot. My guess, the shooter came in with the original police response. Someone had to have ears on the radio and hit the vantage spot in a short time frame."
"You're saying a cop or firefighter?" Moretti asked.
"No, I'm saying someone came in to make sure that bomb went off. A bomb is impersonal. It became personal after the call for help went out. An amateur did not make this, and the shot was a difficult one. We’ll review the rest of the available tape as well as any traffic cam or ATM footage in the surrounding areas around the detonation time as well as the time between Elizabeth's arrival Saturday and the explosion. Maybe the bomber made a mistake."
Agent Whitmore scratched her head. "Martin Bailey is Elizabeth Reed's boyfriend. Where is she? Why was he driving her car?"
"She’s a patient in the ICU. Doctors report she was poisoned. Possible murder attempt or self-inflicted. We are sitting on a homicide arrest warrant for her in the deaths of two local men. We’ll wait to act if she survives," Doug Sharpe said.
Mike's patience was waning. "The doctors ruled out suicide.”
“Is it possible someone with knowledge of Dr. Reed's admission assumed Mr. Bailey would be moving her car?" Whitmore asked.
Ford explained the hostage situation and poisoning. His tone was cold and detached.
"This bomb is the third attempt on her life." Realization of the severe matter showed on Moretti's face.
"Chief Sharpe, this investigation is in its early stages. Dr. Reed being poisoned and a bomb placed in her car would not be a coincidence. Where is your investigation into Dr. Reed's poisoning at?"
Mike was impressed with Agent Whitmore's ability to put Sharpe in his place. Everyone was sure the SPD declared Elizabeth's illness as a suicide attempt. Sharpe hedged as he said, "Uh, I'm not sure. I'll check with my detectives."
Tucker Hanlon read the charts.Smart woman.Each patient experienced blunt trauma, likely from hands or feet. They also had contact bruising where their body hit something, or something hit them. Tucker almost missed the tell, but Elizabeth had critical eyes. Every patient had contact bruises forming a perfect circle in areas that would make accidental contact unlikely. Flashlight or baton.
Another significant item caught his eye. The admissions all occurred at night well after lockdown. The infirmary nurse at the corrections center who called the ambulance every time was Trudy Saperstein, and the admitting physician was Dr. Randall Knox.
Kip Brenan, recently named Co-Executive Director of Infrastructure Security and an original founder of Chase Security, pulled up a chair opposite Paul Young. "Now can you tell me what this is all about?
"I was looking forward to getting some sleep," Young whined.
"Austin Bailey." Kyle Cooper, head of CSI licensing and also an original founder, sat beside Young.
"What about him?"
Kyle tossed him Austin's admission photo. "He was shot in his vest voids. Why? He was left to die in a ditch. He's a fellow cop. Where's the investigation at? What is the department covering up?"
Young shoved the table at Kip and stood. "Sons of bitches."
Kip roared, "Sit down!"
"I don't know. Riggs, Blake, Logan and Lamb have shut me out."
"What did Lamb say?" Kip asked.
"Nothing. I mean, nothing to me. At that point, I figured I could do more being at the hospital for Austin and his family."
"What did they do at the scene?" Kyle asked.
"Lamb ordered the scene cleaned up. Collected the trash. Got the garbage bag out of there," Paul Young said.
Kip's eyes widened. "What bag?"
