She paused as he wanted and he went to the door, opened it and looked around the hallway before extending a hand to confirm it was okay to exit.

  Slipping her hand into his, she walked with him out the door and to the elevator but didn’t release his hand, the touch uniting them in more than one way.

  When they reached the offices, Dashiell was sharing high fives with Liam and David. Liam turned to face them as they walked to where Nicholas and Madeline were adding information to their whiteboard.

  Miguel smiled as the enlargement of a Washington State driver’s license went up next to the earlier, grainy photos they had created from the various CCTV feeds and Maisy’s photo of the unsub.

  “Good news, I guess,” he said and pulled out a chair for Maisy to sit at the table.

  “Good news,” Dashiell confirmed and explained. “Using the program I tweaked, we were able to splice in more of the unsub’s features from the CCTV footage and recreate his face. As soon as we did that, we got a hit. Chris Adams. Twenty-six. No priors. Last employer was none other than the city of Seattle. He worked in the parks department but was let go about six months ago.”

  Miguel peered around the room at his team. “Do we have anything else on Adams?”

  Madeline shook her head. “Still working on it. We’re reaching out to the cousin whose DNA hit earlier, but since his last name is Adams as well, we’re confident we’re on the right track. We’ve also identified two siblings who are currently serving time for armed robbery and drug dealing.”

  Miguel nodded. “Which would explain the Crusader’s demands about bail reform and sentencing. What about his last known address?”

  Nicholas held up a piece of paper. “Got it. I was just about to go visit the location and see what I can find.”

  “I’ll go with you. In the meantime, see what else you can dig up and also, let’s get his last place of employment, address, et cetera up on the map and see if that gets us anywhere,” he said and started to go, but then he laid a hand on Maisy’s shoulder and gently squeezed it.

  “You’ll be okay here,” he said, but it was part question, part statement.

  “I will be. I just wish there was more I could do to help,” she said, glancing up at him with those amazing eyes, trusting eyes. He hoped he didn’t disappoint her again the way he had earlier when she’d been hurt.

  “Okay. And team...good job. Reach out to Seattle PD, Mack at ABS and ATF Special Agent Cummings and fill them in on what we have. See if they have anything to add. Also ask for a BOLO on Chris Adams.”

  “I’ve got that,” Madeline said, and Miguel had no doubt she’d have everything in line within minutes. It was why she was one of his best agents and working on his team.

  “Thanks, Madeline.” When they left the elevator bank and then headed out of the building, Miguel checked to make sure the area was safe. The Crusader had attacked on their home turf, reminded them that no one was safe anywhere.

  That was doubly evident at the sight of the various first responder vehicles and news vans parked in front of the office building as well as the assorted officers working just past the yellow barricade tape at the blast scene.

  As one of the reporters noticed them, she came running in their direction, and with a quick look at Nicholas, Miguel urged his team member to move a little faster. They beat the reporter to the car and were safely inside and pulling away from the reporter as she reached them.

  “Vultures,” Miguel mumbled beneath his breath.

  “I don’t blame you for not liking the press all that much,” Nicholas said.

  Miguel shrugged. “They can really have a negative impact on an investigation between revealing information and creating unnecessary pressure.”

  “Like in the Olympic Park Bomber case,” Nicholas said, trying to understand how he felt.

  He nodded. “Definitely. We can’t risk naming an unsub unless we’re one hundred percent sure about it.”

  “Which is why you haven’t named Rothwell as an unsub?” Nicholas said, well aware of Miguel’s suspicions about the annoying, and potentially dangerous, senate candidate.

  “Especially Rothwell. If I say anything without having the proof to back it up, it’s not fair to him or to my team,” he said and shot a quick glance at the other man before returning his attention to the road.

  * * *

  NICHOLAS PEERED AT his boss as Miguel grew silent. He admired Miguel’s restraint, even to someone as obnoxious as Rothwell. It was a testament to his character and his inherent sense of fairness, reinforcing the kind of man he was. A good man. An honorable man.

  Nicholas wasn’t sure he could be as restrained if someone he loved was at risk. Earlier that summer when he’d been trying to solve a serial killer case and fallen for the victim’s older sister, he’d nearly lost his mind when Aubrey had been taken hostage by their unsub.

  Although Miguel had been business as usual during this investigation, it was impossible to miss that there was a connection between him and Maisy, which worried him. Any distractions could prove fatal and today’s bombing right on their doorstep was ample warning that they all needed to double their focus on this case.

  Which was why he took the lead as they rang the bell for the superintendent when they reached the apartment building where Chris Adams had lived. The older Latino man immediately answered the door but narrowed his gaze warily as he spotted them. “Can I help you?”

  They both held up their badges and identified themselves. “FBI. Special Agent Nicholas James and Supervisory Special Agent Miguel Peters. Are you Gonzalo Garcia, the building superintendent?”

  The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sí, I am. FBI? I don’t understand.”

  Nicholas whipped out a copy of Chris Adams’s driver’s license photo. “We understand this man used to live here.”

  The superintendent peered at the photo, nodded and then opened the door wide for them. “Please come in. It’s better if we talk inside.”

  Nicholas and Miguel did as he asked and watched as the older man inspected the street before he closed the door.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Garcia?” Nicholas asked since the man was clearly spooked.

  “Chris lived here about six months ago, but after he lost his job and fell behind on his rent, the landlord had me evict him,” the superintendent said.

  “Was he violent when he was evicted?” Miguel asked.

  The man shook his head. “Not at first. But then Chris got involved with some of the homeless people down beneath the highway. They started coming around and causing problems. Turning over garbage cans or setting them on fire. Hassling tenants for money as they come and go to their cars. That’s why I didn’t want anyone to see us talking. I don’t want no problems.”

  “Did you call the police about the incidents?” Nicholas asked even though he knew what the answer would be.

  “I did, but their hands are tied. As long as no one gets hurt, we’re on our own,” Mr. Garcia said with a resigned shrug.

  “You said Chris lost his job,” Nicholas said, leaving it open-ended so the super could add anything he knew.

  “Chris wasn’t bad at first, but he partied a lot. I think he was high at work and someone got hurt so they fired him.”

  Nicholas and Miguel shared a look. “He was with the parks department, right?”

  The super nodded. “He was. Worked mainly at Riverview, but also Denny Park. Some others, I think.”

  “Has Chris been around lately?” Nicholas pressed.

  Mr. Garcia shook his head and frowned. “Not in the last couple of weeks. He had been staying down at the encampment beneath the highway overpass. I figured he either got himself another place or maybe overdosed or something. Shame, really.”

  “It is. If you think of anything else, or if you see Chris around, would you mind giving us a call?” Nicholas said and handed the man his business card.

  The man tapped the card against his hand and nodded. “Sí. I will.”

  They left the superintendent’s apartment and walked away from the building, perusing the area as they moved toward the highway overpass. It was several blocks away, but quite a number of homeless could be seen through the area and a few tents had been pitched here and there along the edges of the public sidewalks. The closer they got, the denser the appearance of tents and makeshift lodgings.

  As they passed, people stared at them and Nicholas suspected that even if Chris was still hanging around the encampment, they wouldn’t get any help in finding him. That was confirmed as they walked over to one person after another. They either hurried away, avoiding them, or refused to answer. Another, smaller group of more aggressive people moved as if to surround them, but Nicholas held his hands up in surrender and he and Miguel turned around and walked back to their car.

  “We’ll need to set up surveillance around the encampment,” Miguel said as he slipped behind the wheel.

  “I can do that with David. He wants to be a field agent and it’ll be good experience for him,” Nicholas said.

  Miguel nodded. “Sounds good. Maybe after we get back you can both change into something less law enforcement and see if that helps at all.”

  Nicholas replayed in his head what the superintendent had told them, one fact sticking out. “He mentioned Denny Park. Isn’t that close to the federal courthouse?”

  “And some parts of Riverview are not all that far from some of the bombing sites. Same for this encampment and his old apartment,” Miguel said, but instead of driving directly to the BAU offices, he detoured by Riverview and then up to the area by the courthouse and the park.

  “Do you see what I see?” Miguel asked as they drove past a corporate park and one headquarters stood out: Rothwell Industries.

  “I do,” Nicholas said and didn’t fail to notice his boss’s smile. With every bit of information they uncovered, they were getting closer and closer to finding out who was the real Seattle Crusader, and he suspected that it wasn’t going to be just Chris Adams.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maisy nursed the tea that she had prepped for herself while Madeline added even more information to the team’s whiteboard.

  “Do you think you’re getting closer to catching the Crusader?” she asked and sipped her tea.

  Madeline leaned her hands on her hips as she peered at the board. The action drew the jacket away from her athletic physique and revealed the weapon tucked into a black leather holster. She tilted her head as she considered the evidence she had just written onto the whiteboard and nodded.

  “I think we have one of the Crusader’s minions,” she said and turned to face Maisy. “I’m sure someone else is directing him and making the bombs.”

  Maisy considered the information and nodded. “Adams doesn’t seem like the mastermind type to me.”

  “Your father... Sorry, the Forest Conservation Bomber said our unsub is a novice and I totally agree. I also think that there’s another reason for these bombings. Not the demands for bail reform and homeless encampments.”

  “You think that it’s a smoke screen?” Maisy wondered aloud.

  “Definitely a smoke screen,” Miguel said as he hurried in with Dashiell and walked straight to the whiteboard. He placed several red magnets on their map and gestured to them. “Adams’s apartment, a homeless encampment where he’s been seen and the location of a couple of the parks where he worked before being fired.”

  Miguel grabbed two other magnets and snapped them onto the whiteboard decisively. He pointed to the first one. “Federal courthouse where several riots have taken place, but more importantly,” he said and gestured to the second spot, “the corporate offices of Rothwell Industries. Right near the park and courthouse.”

  Liam rose from his computer and walked over at the same time that Lorelai entered their work area. They nearly bumped into each other but jumped back, staring at each other uneasily as they both mumbled, “Sorry.”

  “You first,” Liam said and held his hand out to cede the floor to her.

  “No, you first. I was just coming to see if you wanted dinner brought in,” Lorelai said.

  “What do you have, Liam?” Miguel asked as Lorelai and Liam continued to do their awkward little dance.

  Liam dipped his head in apology to Lorelai, walked over to Miguel and handed him some papers. A broad smile came to Miguel’s lips and he shot a quick glance at Nicholas as he said, “The cousin has confirmed that he’s related to Chris Adams, so we’ve got him thanks to the DNA evidence off the bombs.”

  Miguel’s phone chirped to warn of an incoming text. He pulled it from his pocket, read the text and then jerked his head in Liam’s direction. “Please put the TV feed up on the monitor.”

  Liam raced back to his computer, careful to avoid Lorelai, and with a few keystrokes, put up the feed of a press conference with none other than state senate candidate Richard Rothwell.

  “It’s a disgrace that the FBI continues to refuse my help. Especially considering that the latest bombing was right at their door,” Rothwell said, his too-serious expression and tone almost comical.

  “Smug bastard,” Nicholas murmured.

  “While I don’t believe in caving to terrorists, we must consider that the Crusader’s demands are intended to help so many. Issues like bail reform and the plight of the homeless are ones I intend to address once I’m elected to the Senate,” he said, and a small cheer rose in the background.

  The camera panned away from Rothwell to the crowd.

  “You getting this, Liam?” Miguel asked.

  “I am,” their tech confirmed, but instead of returning to Rothwell, the reporter took over the broadcast.

  “This is Allie Smith reporting from Rothwell Industries. Back to you, Ernie.”

  “And back to our investigation. Nicholas and David are going to the homeless encampment near Adams’s old apartment. BOLO is out for him. In the meantime, let’s keep working on busting past the shell companies. I’m convinced they’re going to lead to Rothwell,” Miguel said and as everyone rushed off to continue work and Lorelai went to order dinner, he came over, sat beside Maisy and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen onto the side of her face.

  “You holding up?” he asked, his gaze skimming over her features, searching out what she was feeling.

  “I am. Tired. Sore. Hungry,” she admitted with a laugh and a wag of her head.

  “We’ll go down to my apartment as soon as we finish dinner, unless you’d rather get something to eat on our own,” he said.

  Dinner alone with Miguel. Dangerous, she thought. “We can eat with the team. I’m sure you’re anxious to be here if something happens so you can wind this up now that you have an unsub.”

  Miguel nodded and once again brushed his hand across his hair. “We have Adams, but I want whoever is directing this and whoever made those bombs.”

  She understood his determination while she was also sad that their time together would be coming to a close.

  “You’ll get them. I have no doubt about that,” she said and laid her hand over his. Squeezed it gently. “Your mother would be really proud of the work you’re doing.”

  A sad smile flitted across his lips. “She would. She’s the voice in my head, pressing me to do my best.”

  The moment was shattered as Lorelai returned to the work area with two FBI agents carrying bags from one of the nearby restaurants. The aroma of yeasty bread and sweet cream wafted into the air as Lorelai laid out assorted plastic food containers and bread bowls on the surface of their work area.

  “I figured you were tired of sandwiches, and something warm would be nice. There are four different soups for you to choose from. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to head out,” Lorelai said.

  Liam piped up immediately, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat with us?”

  Lorelai fidgeted, leaning side to side on her four-inch heels, but then she said, “No, thanks. I have a date.”

  Liam’s face fell and Lorelai rushed from the room, obviously uncomfortable.

  Miguel clearly got the tension between the two since he jumped to his feet, clapped his hands and said, “Let’s eat.”

  * * *

  MIGUEL’S BELLY WAS full of tasty seafood chowder and bread, but there was an emptiness inside that even the best gourmet food couldn’t fill.

  As Maisy sat back in her seat and rubbed her stomach, a contented sigh escaped her and slipped into him, filling some of that void inside him. Warning him that maybe, just maybe, Maisy was what would fill the emptiness. An emptiness that he hadn’t really acknowledged until she had come into his life.

  Peering around the table, he noticed that the meal had relaxed his team members, which was a good thing. Sometimes too much tension blocked the flow of ideas, but so far, he was pleased with what his team had accomplished. But they still had a long way to go to resolve the investigation.

  Despite that, it was time to get Maisy home and to enter his own zone because sometimes he worked better alone.

  He slowly rose to his feet, wincing a bit as the stitches in his leg pulled with the motion. “I think it’s time we went home. Keep me posted on any developments. I’m going to dig into Rothwell and see what I can find.”

  He held his hand out to help Maisy up and she slipped her hand into his. Inside him, another bit of the emptiness filled with the warmth of her skin and her tender squeeze.

  But as aware as he was of every nuance of Maisy beside him, he didn’t fail to notice how Madeline’s eyebrows rose as she saw their held hands. How Dashiell likewise fixated on that while Liam crossed his arms, his gaze puzzled.

  Miguel understood their concerns because he’d had similar ones as his team members had found their significant others during the course of their last few investigations. Nicholas and Aubrey. Madeline and Jackson. Dashiell and Raina. And of course, the ongoing drama between Liam and Lorelai, his ex.