Page 27 of Elliot

She took a sip of the fizzy drink and realized she was thirsty. She sat down and took another drink. She didn’t care if there was science behind it. If it worked to stop the shaking, she was all for it. Elliot stood behind her, his hand on her chair, and she thanked her lucky stars the man was her protector.

“Okay, so this is what we have so far.” Ross clicked a remote, and a screen powered up. “The knife in the box and the one found in Maya’s bathroom are not common. They’re specialty knives and expensive. We have people going to the high-end stores that sell them. I doubt we’ll come up with anything, but it’s worth a shot. There are no prints on the hilt or blade. Lab techs said the blood on both are from the rats that were killed. The box had a partial print on a piece of tape, but not enough to run a search. However, we can compare it to any suspects.”

Elliot sat down beside her. “And the slashed tires?”

“Dead end. The tires were sent to be shredded and recycled.” Ross hit the button again, bringing up a slide with a picture on it. “The false info dump was given to this reporter. She’s with an online magazine. We have an interview with her tomorrow. Traditionally, reporters won’t give up their sources, but she was burned on this tip, and her credibility is now in question, so maybe she’ll roll.”

“And tonight?” Maya asked, setting her empty paper cup down on the table.

Elliot filled it up again and pushed it back toward her. “How did the man who ran onto the stage know about the bomb threat before we did?”

Ross frowned. “What?”

“We evacuated because a man ran across the stage and told the emcee about the bomb threat. Con was monitoring NYPD channels and heard it broadcast after we were told to leave,” Elliot explained.

“Hold on.” Ross picked up the phone on the conference table and hit a button. “This is Stapleton. Get a hold of any footage on the scene. Especially aimed toward the stage.”

“Con has it and is sending it to your inbox,” Elliot repeated, pointing to his ear.

“Have they found any explosives?”

“Bomb squad is clearing the building now.”

Maya looked at him and the earpiece in his ear. She could barely see it. Ross canceled the request. “Has he processed for an ID on the man on the stage?” Ross asked.

Elliot tipped his head and nodded. “He’s running it against all databases. He only has a profile, but it should be enough.”

“Alright. My people tell me we have recovered bullets from the building and will process them through ballistics, and we’ll put them through on a priority. Con has already sent the street footage of the shooter Smoke chased.”

“Was anyone injured?” Maya asked. Both men turned to her. She frowned. “There were a lot of shots, and we weren’t the only ones trying to leave. I know it was an affluent crowd, but if one of the workers were hurt, they’d need help with medical bills. I’d like to do that.”

Ross smiled at her. “I’ll let the hospital staff know. My husband is the chief of surgery there.”

“So, people were hurt?” She put her empty cup down.

“Two were injured, two were killed.”

“What!” Maya stood up. “Who? Oh my God.” She started shaking again.

Elliot was next to her and wrapped her in his arms immediately. She leaned into him and started to cry. “Why? Why did someone do this?” She let all the emotion go and had no idea how long she cried. When she realized Elliot was rocking side to side slowly while holding her, she jerked back and looked across the table. Talk about things out of her character. Crying, rocking like a scared child … she put her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Never be sorry for needing someone. Ross is down the hall checking on the people who were injured.”

She dropped her head against his chest. “I’m sorry.” She hiccupped and accepted a tissue that appeared beside her face. Another thing out of character—she kept apologizing to him.

“You’ve been shot at. Again, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“But you’re not falling apart.”

He laughed, and the rumble vibrated through his chest. “You should have seen me after my first firefight in the military. God knows I was a mess.”

“You were in the military?” She pushed back and looked up at him.

“I was. Are you going to tell me why you don’t like guns?”

She wiped at her eyes and then turned away from him to blow her nose. Another tissue appeared in front of her, and she took it. “I’m adopted.”

“I know,” Elliot said from behind her. “That was in my briefing when I took your case.”

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