Page 9 of Wicked Sin

“Any chance she blew up the car herself to dispose of the evidence?”

I laugh out loud. “Stranger things have happened, but I don’t think so. Plus if she did happen to have that pre-rigged, which would be wild, she did a shit job. The car isn’t demolished. Once the bomb squad clears it, forensics will be able to confirm the presence of drugs.”

She sighs in my ear. “All right. Keep me posted on what they say, and keep Ms. Reid occupied until you know one way or another. The feds are going to be alarmed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI is involved by the end of the day.”

Bombs tend to get attention. Which was probably the point, and something the Secret Service seems to have shit the bed on anticipating. “I’m not handing over the investigation.”

Another pause. “Let’s discuss this further when you get to the station.”

I’m not taking Taylor Reid anywhere near the Secret Service or the FBI until I know more about my crime scene here. “It’ll be a while. You know how emergency rooms can be.”

“Understood.”

“I could be dancing right now, Captain.”

“You and me both, Vasquez.”

Once the bombsquad and forensics team arrive, my car is cleared to be moved from the parking lot. I pull it around to the back of the building where I find Taylor sitting in an ambulance, giving one-word answers to the veteran female paramedic looking her over.

She’s still pale, and dark circles have formed under her eyes.

“Knock-knock,” I say from the open door at the back.

They both turn and look at me.

“Detective Vasquez,” I say to the paramedic.

Taylor rolls her eyes. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“I wasn’t introducing myself to you,” I point out.

That gets me a faint smile.

If her attitude has returned, that’s a great sign.

“She’s refusing transport to the hospital,” the paramedic says. “But she should see a doctor. Sleeping tonight is going to be hard.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Taylor mutters.

“I’ll take her to the hospital,” I say.

Theherin question gives me a look of alarm. “You will not.”

I give her the blandest look possible then follow it with a not-at-all-serious threat. “Then I’ll arrest you.”

That gets me a wide-eyedwhat the hell’s with the overreaction, dudelook from the paramedic.

I shrug. I think I have Ms. Reid’s number, that’s all.

Taylor narrows her eyes. “Maybe I’d rather take the ambulance.”

“That’s an option, for sure.”

But she shrugs out of the blanket they’d wrapped around her and nods. “No, it’s okay. You can take me. I don’t need…” She waves her hand around the interior of the ambulance. “This is overkill.”

The paramedic gives her a form to sign, and then she’s free.

She stops when she steps into the sunshine, wincing. Then she does a double-take. “My bag.”

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