Kevin shoved his door open.
Jennifer stopped him. “No, stay put. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” She drove toward the bus.
Sam finished her conversation and closed the phone.
“Do you think anyone was hurt?” Kevin asked.
She looked at the bus and shook her head. “I don’t know, but we were lucky to find it when we did.”
Kevin groaned and ran both hands through his hair.
“I have to go,” Sam said. “That was the call I thought I might get. They want me to question a witness. His attorney will have him out by midafternoon. Unfortunately, I can’t miss this. I’ll explain it when I get—”
“I can’t believe Slater did this,” Kevin said, staring around again. “He would have killed over twenty people if we hadn’t stumbled onto this bus.”
She shook her head. “This changes the game. Look, I’ll be back on the first flight this evening, okay? I promise. But I have to leave now if I’m going to make the flight.” She rubbed his shoulder and looked in Jennifer’s direction. “Tell her I’ll call and give her my take; she’ll take care of you.” Three marked police cars had arrived and surrounded the charred bus. “We’ll make it, my dear knight. I swear we’ll make it.”
Kevin nodded. “This is insane.”
10
WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF THE EXPLOSION, a couple dozen law enforcement officials—mostly local police but including some from her own office and several from state agencies—isolated the crime scene and began the forensic investigation. They had quickly located the bomb. By all initial appearances it was the same as the bomb in Kevin’s car, only larger.
Jennifer situated Kevin in a coffee shop four doors down from the bus with strict instructions not to move—she’d be back in twenty minutes.
The parameters of the investigation had just changed. Bill Galager from the Los Angeles office arrived, as well as two junior investigators, John Mathews and Brett Mickales. They would work the case from an evidence angle, freeing her to focus on the psychology of it. One conclusion required no degree in criminal psychology—when Slater said no cops, he meant absolutely no cops. And he had the means to know if cops were involved.
According to Kevin, Slater had mentioned her by name. Jennifer. The maniac was drawing her into another trap, wasn’t he? By the looks of the bus, he’d graduated into a new class.
No cops. No CBI, except Samantha, who happened to be connected to Kevin by his childhood and the boy. No ATF. No sheriff or state police. Just FBI and, specifically, just Jennifer.
“Still eager to take him on?”
Jennifer turned to Milton, who’d walked up behind her. “Eager?”
A touch of defiance glimmered in his eyes, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Why did he blow it early?”
“He said no cops. He obviously learned that your department had been informed—”
“They always say no cops. You’re not a cop?”
“According to Kevin, he said FBI only.”
Milton scoffed.
Jennifer frowned. “No cops. Evidently the history he has with us figures into his game. Bottom line is, he laid down a rule; we broke it; he blew the bus early.”
“And what if he said no FBI? Would you back out? I don’t think so. This is my city. You don’t have the right to cut me out.”
“I’m not cutting you out, Milton. Your men are all over the place.”
“I’m not referring to mopping up. He’s going to call again and the city knows that. They have a right to know.”
“The city? You mean the press. No, Milton. The press has a right to know anything that might lend to the city’s safety. You’re looking at a bus this time; the next time it could be a building. You willing to risk that for the sake of protocol? If you’ll excuse me, I have a case to attend to.”
Milton’s stare grew hot. “This is my city, not yours. I have a personal stake; you don’t. Unfortunately, it seems that I’m powerless to do anything about your jurisdiction, but I was assured by your bureau chief that you would cooperate. Slater so much as coughs and you withhold it, I’ll have your replacement here in five minutes.”
Jennifer was tempted to slap his smug mug. She’d have to call Frank and explain. In the meantime, Milton was a thorn she would have to deal with.
“I don’t like you either, Detective. You’re too interested in your own good for my tastes, but I suppose that’s personal. I’ll keep you updated through Galager and I’ll expect yourcooperation in assisting us in any way you can. We’re not stupid enough to refuse all the help we can get. But you will do nothing without my authorization. If Slater suspects your involvement, he may do ‘your’ city more harm than you’re willing to take the heat for. Agreed?”
He eyed her carefully and then relaxed. Didn’t expect that, did you, Colombo?She had no intention of keeping him materially involved, she realized, and the thought surprised her. In fact, in more ways than one, she welcomed Slater’s restrictions. This was between her and Slater and Kevin, regardless of how personal Slater wanted to get.
“I want to put a full-court press on his house,” Milton said. “Complete electronic surveillance, including wiretaps. You haven’t ordered them?”
“Not wiretaps. Slater’s not using the landline. The cell wizards have been monitoring the frequency on the cell phone he gave Kevin for the past forty minutes—I put in the request as soon as I left his house this morning. Slater called Kevin thirty minutes ago, just before he blew the bomb. Nothing even registered with our wizards. He’s not dumb enough to talk without scrambling. This isn’t your typical hack. I have an order in to fix a recording device, an AP301, to his phone ASAP, but we didn’t have it on this call.”
Milton glared. “I’ll put someone on the house.”
“No. No cops, or didn’t you get that part?”
“For crying out loud, woman! You just chewed me out less than three hours ago for not having someone on him last night!”
“I’ll put my own agents on the house. Keep your men clear. If you want to go head-to-head, I’ll leak this to the press.” She hesitated. “You get anything on the officer I asked about?”
Milton looked away and answered with some reluctance. “Officer Rick Sheer. He moved back to the San Francisco area ten years ago. Died of cancer five years ago. There’s no record that we can find of any incident involving the boy you mentioned. But that doesn’t surprise me. Cops routinely deal with neighbors off the record. You say he threatened the boy’s father—the incident obviously blew over. No official complaint, no arrest.”
Jennifer’s heart sank. That left Kevin. And Samantha. Hopefully one of them would recall something that might give them a clue to the boy’s identity. All they currently had was Kevin’s description, which was practically useless.
“Can you have them look again? What about a personal notebook or—”
“We wouldn’t have anything like that.”
“Cooperation, remember? Have them look again.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. I assume you’ve met Agent Galager. You’ll be dealing primarily with him from here out.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to do what I was trained to do, try to figure out who Slater is. Excuse me, Detective.”
She walked past the bus, found Galager. “What do you have?”
“Same guy who did the car.” Bill Galager was a redhead with too many freckles to count. He glanced at Nancy, who knelt over fragments of twisted metal at the flash point.
“She’s good.”
Jennifer nodded. “Work over the evidence in her lab with her and then send it on to Quantico for more testing. Bring this to Milton’s attention, and please do your best to keep him off my back.”
“Will do. What about any evidence they find at his house?”
A team had arrived at Kevin’s house twenty minutes earlier and was scouring the place for anything Slater might have left. She doubted they would find anything. The victims’ houses in Sacramento had yielded nothing. Slater might have no scruples, but he had plenty of discipline.