"Well, it is also possible that the plan was always to take Jonas out. He was the one with the most visibility in the café. If he's dead, and the trail goes to him, then it ends there."

  "We've been looking for Cal, but we haven't spotted him anywhere in the area." She picked up her fork and made her way through her salad as they both ate for a few minutes.

  When she finished, she took a sip of iced tea and said, "I think it's your turn to talk."

  He gave a heavy sigh as he sat back on the bench. "What's the question?"

  "Same one I asked before. Why did you leave the CIA? And this time, I want the real reason."

  "Everything I did for the agency was classified, Kara. That is the truth."

  "Then paint a picture in broad strokes that won't break any laws."

  He thought about that for a moment, clearly conflicted, then he said, "I brought in someone I'd been chasing for a long time, someone who had hurt many people. I thought I'd finally get justice. But this individual made a deal with the powers that be, suggesting he would be a better asset than an inmate."

  "So they let him go?"

  "Yes. They sent him back into the field. He had a handler, of course, and he was under threat of immediate confinement if he stepped over a line." Anger burned through his green eyes. "He agreed. And I quit."

  "I can understand why you did that. Has he stayed behind that line?"

  "No. Two months after he made the deal, he vanished. No one has seen him since, and it's believed he's now leading a terror network that has gotten a lot more dangerous with him in it."

  "I'm sorry. That's terrible," she said, realizing that the man who had almost seemed completely devoid of emotion since she'd met him actually had a lot of rage hiding just under the surface. "The agency must be trying to catch him."

  "Well, it took me five years to catch him the first time, so who knows how long it will take this time."

  "Did the agency try to get you to stay?"

  "They wanted to reassign me, but I was done. Logically, I know that intelligence works better with embedded assets, but there are some people too evil to be turned, and I knew all along that no matter what he said, he would never work with us. They said it was a calculated risk. I don't think they calculated a damn thing." He picked up his coffee mug and took a drink.

  "When did you decide to work with Dominic?" she asked.

  He suddenly smiled. "I already answered your question. You don't get another one."

  "Fine. I have to get back to work. Let's get the check." She'd no sooner finished speaking when the server dropped off their bill.

  "I've got this," he said. "My turn."

  She shrugged as he put down cash, and then they walked out of the diner together.

  It was a wintry afternoon with a gray sky threatening rain or possibly snow. She zipped up her jacket. "Did you drive?"

  He nodded. "I'm parked that way. Kara⁠—"

  "What?" she asked warily, not liking the look in his gaze.

  "What you did at the NYPD took a lot of guts. I'm impressed."

  His words warmed her soul. "Thanks."

  "I think your choice to leave an agency that you couldn't believe in anymore was also brave."

  "Some would say I threw my entire career away."

  "Well, maybe you did. But I reinvented myself, and it looks like you're doing the same." She paused. "Although I have to say there's still something about your one and only job with Dominic that doesn't ring quite true to me."

  "You're a very suspicious person."

  "And I suspect," she said, playing on his word, "that you have secrets."

  "Everyone has secrets."

  "That's true. I just want to believe that those secrets aren't part of a hidden agenda that's going to prevent me from finding out what really happened to Samantha."

  "I want to find out what happened to her, too."

  "What if the truth becomes a problem for your old friend, Dominic?"

  "I don't think that will happen."

  Before she could ask him what he would do if it did, her phone buzzed. She took it out to read a message from her team.

  "Is that about Samantha?" Max asked.

  "Yes. My team pulled security footage from Bistro Verde, and it looks like the man who threatened Samantha is Vincent Castellano, a mechanic at a Jersey automotive shop owned by the Petroysan Group." She looked up at Max. "Tyler is headed to his apartment now. It looks like this is about Samantha's current case."

  "Do you have the address? Should we meet him there?"

  "I don't think we need to do anything," she countered.

  "I just got you the lead. Don't cut me out."

  Before she could respond, the earth rocked beneath her feet with a massive blast. She stumbled forward, Max's hand catching her arm to steady her. Ears ringing, heart pounding, she turned her head to see people running down the street toward them, screaming as shards of debris fell from the sky and thick black smoke rose into the sky from only a few blocks away.

  She sprinted toward the chaos, with Max right next to her. She had no idea what they would find when they eventually turned the corner…

  Chapter Ten

  Kara's lungs burned as they made their way through the panicked crowd rushing toward them, but eventually they got to the end of the block and around the next corner, where a scene of destruction arose before them.

  The blast had shattered a mid-rise building under construction in a residential neighborhood. Out of the six stories, the top three floors were engulfed in flames. Scaffolding had collapsed onto the street, with twisted metal and wooden planks scattered across the pavement. Windows were blown out, glass glittering on the sidewalk like deadly confetti. Smoke and fire were visible through multiple openings, black and thick, blotting out the afternoon sky.

  There were already emergency vehicles on the scene, with more arriving by the second—fire trucks, ambulances, police cars. Crews from the FDNY were on their way into the building while other units attacked the fire from the outside. The police had established a perimeter, officers pushing the crowd back, as well as evacuating people from the buildings on either side of the damaged structure.

  They made their way through the crowd, flashing her badge whenever someone tried to stop them, but they could still only get so far, the last officer directing her to the scene commander, where a man in an NYPD captain's uniform stood amid a cluster of police vehicles, talking into a radio.

  She recognized him not from her days on the force, but from his relationship with her uncle. Captain Hank Ridgemont played cards with her Uncle Danny every other Thursday. He was a good cop, twenty-five years on the job, and had worked his way up from patrol. He was also someone who'd stood by her when many people had not. She wanted to talk to him, but the priority now was getting people out of the building and putting the fire out, so she and Max stayed clear of the emergency operations but close enough to see what was going on.

  "What the hell?" Max muttered, his gaze moving from the fiery scene to her. "Is this connected to the café?"

  She didn't know how to answer that question. "I was just thinking that the bomb at the café definitely had Samantha's name on it, but now…"

  "Maybe this was construction related. A gas pipe explosion or something..." He turned his gaze back to the scene as firefighters were bringing people out of the building.

  Most were wearing reflective vests, a few with hard hats on. EMTs rushed to meet them, triaging on the sidewalk.

  "At least there are survivors," she said, feeling good about that, until she saw one person being carried out on a stretcher and rushed to a waiting ambulance.

  She swallowed a knot in her throat and called Jason, explaining what little she knew about the explosion. "I'm waiting to talk to the incident commander," she finished. "I'll hopefully get more information from him."

  "I'm on my way," Jason said.

  "Okay."

  Max was on his phone when she finished the call. She gave him an inquisitive look. "Who were you talking to?" she asked.

  "A woman who works with me. I asked her to see what she could find out about this building."

  "As in whether it's tied to Dominic?"

  Max's gaze hardened, and so did his jaw. "That would be one question."

  "If this building ties to Dominic, and he ties to Samantha, then these explosions are connected."

  "Which is a big if," he said.

  She wasn't so sure that was true. Dominic had a global empire, but he also had buildings in New York, and this could be one of them. As the urgency of the scene diminished, she made her way to Captain Ridgemont.

  "Kara," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

  "I was a few blocks away when I heard the explosion. I'm concerned it may be tied to the one at the café on Monday. I'm the agent in charge of that investigation. Can you tell me anything about what happened here? Was it a bomb?"

  "It appears that way. Probably located on the fourth floor. That's where most of the serious injuries occurred."

  "How many people were inside?" she asked.

  "Six."

  Surprise ran through her at his response. "So few? On a construction site?"

  "It was inspection day. Most of the crew wasn't here. Two victims with minor injuries were treated on scene. Four were sent to the hospital, two critically. Several people on the street suffered injuries. I don't have that number at the moment. One of those was a woman who works for the building department. She had just walked out of the building when it blew up, so she knew how many were inside." He tipped his head to a disheveled woman sitting in the back of an ambulance. "There's a lot to unravel. We'll have a longer conversation later."

  "Of course. Thanks, Captain."

  As he moved away, she and Max headed toward the ambulance, where a woman covered with dusty debris and some blood on her forehead stared in shock at the building.

  "Ma'am? I'm Special Agent Reid with the FBI. And this is Max Malone. Can you answer a few questions?"

  The woman looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but focused. "I—yes. I think so."

  "Can you tell me your name?"

  "Whitney Holden. I work for the Building Department. Administrative assistant." Her voice shook slightly. "I was here with the inspector. James Cooper."

  "What happened, Whitney?"

  "It was a final inspection. I came back to our car to get some paperwork we'd forgotten to take inside, and I was about to go back when the building blew up. I—I don't know what happened. And I'm afraid James is badly hurt." Her voice broke. "I saw them put him in an ambulance, and it looked like he had been burned. Do you know if he's okay?"

  "He's on his way to the hospital. They'll do everything they can to save his life," she said soothingly. "Can you tell me who else was inside?"

  She cleared her throat, struggling for composure. "There were five besides James, the general contractor and his foreman, and subcontractors for plumbing and electrical. When I left them, they were on the fourth floor." Whitney looked at the burning building, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I was in there minutes before. I could be dead right now."

  "But you're not," she said firmly, drawing Whitney's gaze back to her. "You're okay. And you can help us figure out what happened so that whoever did this doesn't get away with it."

  Whitney drew a deep breath. "How can I help?"

  "Who owns this building?"

  "Wexler Properties. James has inspected their buildings before. The construction is always very good. He never has problems with them."

  "Did he have any problems today?" Max asked. "Anything he thought wasn't up to par?"

  "Not when I was there. It seemed routine. We spend all day, pretty much every day, at job sites. I never imagined something like this could happen."

  "How long have you worked with the inspector?" Kara asked.

  "Two years." Fresh tears spilled over. "He's a good man. James really cares about making sure buildings are safe."

  "Did you see anyone else on site or when you came out to the car? Was anyone standing out front, looking at the building?" she asked.

  "There were people on the street when I came out, but I didn't pay them any attention." Whitney took a breath. "Do you think someone was watching the building?"

  "That's what we're trying to find out."

  Whitney looked at the crowd that had gathered behind the police tape to watch what was going on. Then she shook her head. "I don't remember anyone in particular. I'm sorry. I want to help."

  "Did someone send you out of the building?" Max asked. "Or did you suddenly realize you were missing paperwork?"

  Whitney started at his question. "Uh, James asked me for something, and I couldn't find it. I thought I'd left the folder in the car."

  "Was it in the car?" she asked, because there didn't appear to be anything in Whitney's hand.

  "I—I don't know. I had just opened the car door when the explosion happened."

  "Where's your car?" Max asked.

  Whitney's gaze darted down the street. "It's that silver sedan in the loading zone."

  "The one with the door closed?" Max asked.

  "I—I think I closed it when I got up. I was knocked onto the ground. I was dazed. I don't remember exactly what I did. Why are you asking me all these questions about the car and the file?"

  "We're just trying to set up a timeline," Kara assured her as Max headed down the street.

  "Is he going to my car?" Whitney asked. "I don't know if the file is in there or not. I might have left it at the office."

  "It's okay," she said, growing more suspicious of Whitney by the moment. "We'll figure it all out. How are you feeling? Does your head hurt? Were you injured by the explosion?"

  "My ears are still ringing. And I hit my knees pretty hard on the ground. I need to call James's wife." She dug into the purse sitting next to her and pulled out her phone. "I need to talk to her before she hears what happened on the news."

  "Of course, go ahead." She stepped back as Whitney made her call, her gaze moving down the street to the silver sedan. She'd thought she'd see Max nearby or inside, but he wasn't there, and then she glimpsed him running down the street, as if he were chasing someone.

  She moved away from Whitney, following in his direction, not sure what he'd seen or who he was after, but she needed to find out. She moved into a fast jog, finally catching up to him at the end of the block. He was breathing heavily as he stared in frustration across the busy intersection.

  "Who were you chasing?" she asked.

  "I saw a very tall man with black hair staring at the building. I think it was the guy from Cray's building. When he saw me, he took off, jumped into his car, and disappeared into traffic. But this time, I got at least a partial plate." He rattled off a couple of numbers and letters, along with the make of the vehicle.

  "Hang on." She pulled out her phone and asked him to repeat it, then sent the info to Wes. "This is good, Max."

  "We'll see how good it is. He could have jacked that vehicle, and he might have already dumped it a few blocks away."

  "That could still give us a clue. What about Whitney's car? Did you see anything inside?"

  "Her doors were locked, and I saw no evidence of a file on the seat or the floor. I was about to come back and ask for her keys when I noticed the man looking at the building with a pleased smile on his face."

  "If it was the same guy who killed Jonas, then the bombings are definitely connected."

  "We know they are, Kara," he said, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

  "We do," she agreed. "I also wonder if Whitney's early exit was just good luck, or if she knew she needed to be out of that building at a certain time."

  "She definitely stumbled over her answers, and her car was locked."

  "Let's talk to her again." They made their way back down the street, but Whitney was nowhere in sight, and her car was now gone. "She disappeared fast, but she shouldn't be difficult to find."

  As she finished speaking, she saw Jason and Tyler get out of a black SUV and head straight to Ridgemont. "My team is here," she murmured.

  Max gave a curt nod. "I'm going to take off."

  "You should stay. You're part of this investigation."

  "I doubt your team wants me to be a part of it, and I need to speak to Dominic. We'll catch up later. Let me know if you get a hit on the car. Or if you find Vincent Castellano."

  "I will," she said, turning her head as she heard her name called. She walked down the street to meet up with Tyler. "Did Captain Ridgemont fill you in?"

  "He did. Jason is talking to Damon Wolfe now as well," he said, motioning toward Jason, who had met up with Damon, who had just arrived on the scene with several other agents.

  "This is connected to the café bombing," she told him. "I don't know how yet, but Max thinks he saw the man from Cray's apartment on the street here, smiling with pleasure at the destruction. That ties this blast to the last one." She paused. "Did you find Vincent Castellano?"

  Tyler shook his head. "Wasn't home, and the super said she hadn't seen him since last weekend. She thought he might be out of town. His employer said he's been out sick all week, but he's definitely not sick at home. She let me into his apartment, because I don't think she likes him very much, and it looked like he hadn't been there in a while. She didn't let me do much of a search, had second thoughts about that when I started opening closet doors, but I found nothing noteworthy."

  "Every lead we have disappears," she said in frustration. "Including a woman from the Building Department, who had the good fortune to come outside to allegedly retrieve something from her car before the bomb went off."

  "Allegedly?"

  "Her story had a lot of holes in it. But I have her name, and she shouldn't be too difficult to find. She was anxious about her boss, so it's possible she went to the hospital. I want to go there next and see if I can talk to any of the people who had minor injuries."

  "Good idea. So, how far away were you when this happened?"

  "Two blocks away. Near enough to feel the impact, but not close enough to see anything."

  "You were with Malone?"