“Kerry?”
Not Trask. Silver. Her breath escaped in a sigh of relief. “Yes.”
“I'm on my way to pick you up.”
“I'm not going anywhere. I told you—”
“Ivan Raztov is dead.”
She went rigid. “How?”
“Car bomb in his Jeep. Blown to bits. He'd just driven into the parking deck at his apartment.”
“How could that happen? Ledbruk's men were watching him.”
“How the hell do I know? All I heard was the message from Ledbruk that he was dead. We'll find out more when we get there.”
“When did it happen?”
“Forty minutes ago. I thought you'd want to examine the site and see if you could pick up anything. You said you could sometimes get vibes after a fire.”
Forty minutes. While she was watching those kids across the street and trying to concentrate on sensing any threat from Trask, he'd been striking at Raztov.
Blown to bits.
“Kerry?”
“Yes, I want to go. I'll make sure they're on the alert here and meet you in the driveway.”
Blown to bits.
The metal of Ivan Raztov's Jeep had been twisted and blown to the far corners of the parking garage, and the fire that had enveloped it had spread to the other cars in the garage, melting paint and tires.
Jesus.
Kerry took a deep breath before going around the police tape cordoning off the area and walking toward Ledbruk. “Where is he?”
“That's a good question,” Ledbruk said. “The forensics team is trying to scrape enough of him together to get a definite ID. It's a good thing it went off here. The concrete walls took most of the hit. Trask must have used enough plastic to blow up the apartment building.”
“How could this happen? Wasn't his car watched?”
“Hell, yes. We think that the bomb may have been planted at the parking lot of the lab where he's working now. The agent who was doing the surveillance said a Buick rear-ended a Cadillac and his vision of the car was blocked for a few minutes.”
“And he wasn't suspicious?”
“Of course. But the woman had two kids with her, and the accident seemed legitimate. His view of the Jeep was only blocked for a few minutes and the woman waited to file an accident report.”
“Then you should have a record to help ID her,” Silver said.
“We're working on it. We think her driver's license and insurance card were phony,” Ledbruk said curtly as he turned away. “Don't tell me my job, Silver.”
“I wouldn't think of it.” Silver nudged Kerry toward the forensics team. “Kerry wants to examine the crime scene. We'll be careful not to compromise it.”
“There's not much to compromise. Between the fire and the sprinkler system it triggered, it's going to be hell to find any credible evidence.” He turned away. “Just don't get in my way.”
“A woman . . .” Kerry murmured as they moved across the garage. “And two kids?”
“It appears Trask may be recruiting new talent.”
“It doesn't—it feels wrong.” She shook her head to clear it. “Something's not right.”
“What?”
“I don't know.” She moistened her lips. “Find me a piece of the metal of Raztov's Jeep.”
“That shouldn't be hard. It's all over the garage.” He nodded at a length of twisted steel that might have once been a safety bar. “That do?”
“Maybe. I hope so.” She moved toward the metal bar. “God, I hope so.” She knelt and reached out and touched the bar.
Nothing.
Her hand closed around it.
Hurry. Fasten the plastic to the pipe and get out from under the Jeep. Two minutes.
Got it!
Roll out and under the car beside the Jeep. Keep low . . .
“Something?”
She glanced up at Silver. “Trask didn't plant it. The man was black, about forty, and very experienced with explosives. He's done this before.”
“Name?”
She shook her head.
“Are you going to be able to find out anything more?”
“I doubt it. I've never been able to see more than a few impressions and the moment of the act itself.” She grasped the metal again, held it for a moment, and then released it. “No, it's gone.” Panic was suddenly soaring through her. She jumped to her feet. “Let's get out of here.”
“Can you give a description to Ledbruk?”
“Not now.” Wrong. All wrong. Not Trask. “What would I tell him?” She was almost running toward the crime tape. “Let's go.”
He caught up with her as she reached the street. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
“It wasn't Trask.” She got into the car. “It should have been Trask but it wasn't.”
“So it was someone he paid to do it. The result is the same.”
“But he always does it himself. And he always uses Firestorm. It's his child, his weapon of choice. We know Raztov was on his hit list. Why didn't he use Firestorm this time?”
His gaze narrowed on her face. “And do you know?”
She was working it out as she spoke. “Because Raztov wasn't as important as another target he'd chosen. He wanted him dead, but he was willing to give up the pleasure of killing him if it meant using his death.”
“Using it for what?”
“A distraction.” She was starting to shake. “He wanted to focus attention on Raztov and—” She reached for her phone. “Oh, God. Carmela. He's going after Carmela. What's the telephone number at that safe house?”
“I'll do it.” He dialed the number on his phone. “It's ringing. Kerry, it will—” He spoke into the phone. “Agent Dorbin? Silver. Is everything okay there?” He nodded reassuringly at Kerry and she went limp with relief. “No, we just wanted to check.” He hung up. “No problem. It would be almost impossible for him to get through the protection we've set up for Carmela and Rosa.”
“Almost. Not completely.” Her relief was ebbing by the second. “I'm not wrong, Silver. Raztov was a distraction, and Trask specifically mentioned Carmela on the phone. That's why—”
“Son of a bitch.” He was dialing the phone again. “A goddamn red herring.”
“What?”
“He wants to hurt you. He wants to get his own back. He doesn't have to use Carmela. She was just the person in the forefront of your mind. By calling you he made damn sure that's where she'd stay.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying he could hit closer to home.” He spoke into the phone. “George, check with the agents in Macon and make sure Jason Murphy is okay. No, don't call me back. I'll wait.”
Shock knifed through her. “Jason? You said he was well protected. You promised me.”
“He is, dammit. He and his wife had double the protection Ledbruk assigned Carmela. I don't see how Trask could touch him.”
But she could tell he was afraid that Trask had managed to do it. “Resources,” she said dully. “He said anyone could be reached if you had enough resources.” She reached up and rubbed her temple. “Not Jason. Dear God, I hope you're wrong.”
“So do I,” he said grimly. “I hope to hell that—” He broke off, listening. “Jesus.” He hung up the phone. “Jason left his hotel four hours ago. The agent following him lost him almost immediately, and Jason's not answering his cell phone.” He paused. “Agent Fillmore thinks your brother was deliberately trying to lose him.”
“That's crazy. Why would he do that?” Her hands clenched into fists. “He's making excuses. They've got to find him, Silver.”
“George says they're doing their best. Fillmore called Jason's wife and then the number of every friend and business acquaintance she gave him.” He started the car. “He was about to contact Ledbruk and give him a report when George got through to him.”
She moistened her lips again. Four hours. “Jason may be dead already.”
“I won't tell you there's not a chance he might be. But from what you've told me I'd think Trask would want you there to bear witness. He did with Carmela at the warehouse.”