Page 49 of Concerted Chaos

After we’ve enjoyed a few handfuls of chips, he says, “I have a serious question for you. How did we survive?”

“Distance from the car,” I respond. He couldn’t figure it out for himself? We were close enough to get injured, but far enough to avoid most of the blast and shrapnel.

“Yes, obviously, but how did you know there was a bomb? In the note you wrote me in the hospital, you thanked me for saving your life. Did I shield you or protect you somehow? All the details are hazy to me.”

“I didn’t know specifically, but I knew something was wrong, because you said you saw someone under the car. Powell doesn’t work on his own vehicles, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be in the gym parking lot. He doesn’t own any clothes he’s willing to get that dirty. If you hadn’t said anything, I’d have kept on driving.”

“And the bomb was on a timer.” We are both silent for a moment. We owe each other our lives. “Cassidy, who did this? Was it the same person who killed Jace?”

“Most likely.” That’s what the professionals seem to think, and who am I to argue?

“You know if you’re in danger, you can come stay with me.” He manages to make the ridiculous offer with a straight face.

“Oh, great, thanks. I’d love to. Do I get to sleep in the passenger seat or the driver’s seat?”

“My van has a bed. It’s more spacious than you realize. Plenty of room for two.”

“Excuse me?” Is he using this opportunity to hit on me?

His face slowly reddens as he realizes what he suggested. “Not that I think we should ... I mean ... I was just thinking no crazed bomber is going to look for you there.”

“True, nobody would.”

“Yeah, who could ever think you’d be hiding out with someone like me,” he mutters under his breath. He’s awfully prickly sometimes. Literally and figuratively.

“Relax, Tanner. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m perfectly safe. My brother is the target, not me.”

“You live with him, and you’ve already almost been killed once. Next step, the bomber blows up your house.” That’s a sobering thought. But we have security cameras and Mike. Nobody can get on the property without us noticing. But what if it’s a package bomb? Or another one of those car bombs? Has Mike checked Powell’s other vehicles? I take a deep breath. I’m the strong one. I can pretend everything’s fine, the way I always do.

“Tanner, I’m well protected. The FBI is involved, they’ll find the guy soon enough.” I project a confidence I no longer feel.

“Or girl. The bomber could be female. An obsessed fan, maybe.”

“True. Or perhaps this was unrelated to the other case and they were after you. Maybe your ex-wife is holding a grudge.”

“I’ll provide her name to the FBI. She’ll appreciate that. Or better—I’ll tell them I suspect my little brother. He could use a good scare.”

We laugh together, and it’s so good to see him that I don’t even object when my mom invites him to stay for dinner.

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