“A Randy Davis turned himself in to custody a few minutes ago. He wants to speak to the FBI.”

  Miguel smiled and peered at Nicholas. “Rothwell’s blaster. The net is closing on that arrogant bastard.”

  “It is. Time to let him and his counsel stew in there while we chat with Davis,” Nicholas said.

  Miguel nodded, but then peered toward Maisy and David, who were still sitting on the bench outside the interrogation room, patiently waiting. But if they were going to interview Davis and then Rothwell again, it might be hours before they were done.

  He held up a finger and walked over to Maisy and David, knelt before them. She held a hand out to him and he took it, tenderly squeezed. “We are going to be here for some time. Maybe you should go back to my apartment.”

  “I can drive her back,” David offered.

  Miguel nodded, dug into his pants pocket and handed over his car keys to the young tech intern.

  “Thank you, and David, you can head home afterward. I don’t think we’ll need you until the morning when we can hopefully tie up all the loose ends,” Miguel said.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting,” Maisy said and tightened her hold on his hand, as if fearful that once she let go...

  He didn’t want to think about letting her go, but come morning, or the morning of the following day, that’s what he would have to do. He’d have to let her go.

  “I’m sure. Don’t wait up for me,” he said and despite his better judgment, he leaned close and brushed a kiss across her cheek.

  “Thanks for taking her home, David,” he said and meant it. She was going home. His home, and he didn’t want to think any more about how that might change in just a short time.

  He needed to think about what to do next in regard to Davis, the licensed blaster, and Rothwell. Adams as well, which prompted him to dial Madeline as David and Maisy walked away.

  Maisy cast him one last forlorn look as they turned a corner to exit the police station, but then she was gone.

  “Miguel. You there?” Madeline asked.

  “Yes, yes, I am,” he said, turning back to the moment at hand.

  “Any news on Adams?”

  “He’s pulled through surgery. They have him in surgical ICU but are hopeful that they’ll be able to move him to a regular room by the morning,” Madeline said.

  “That’s good news. Maybe once he’s stable, we can get more information from him.”

  “We’ll be here, waiting to interview him,” Madeline said.

  He had no doubt that Madeline and Dashiell would stay until they had what they needed to get Rothwell.

  “Thank you and try to get some rest,” he said and ended the call.

  Turning toward Nicholas and the detectives, he announced, “Time to interview Davis.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Maisy had changed and slipped into bed once she got back to Miguel’s apartment, but she couldn’t sleep.

  She turned on the television and almost every station had breaking news reports about Rothwell’s arrest. The news crews that had tracked them to the marina were running video of the politician’s capture and her heart leaped in her chest at the sight of Miguel, gun drawn until Rothwell had tossed out his weapon.

  He risked his life for her and for others. A true hero.

  A lonely one, she thought, taking what might be a last look around the sterile apartment. Only there was something not as solitary about it in the days she’d been there. On the counter there were two mugs, waiting for their morning dose of coffee. Her computer, journal and some pens rested on the coffee table, calling for her attention, only she didn’t feel like writing at the moment. Her heart was too heavy with what would happen now that the investigation was almost over.

  She surfed through the channels, avoiding those running reports on the Seattle Crusader. Finally, she found a channel with a travel show and snuggled down to watch, imagining herself visiting the locations, cruising down the Danube from Budapest to Belgrade while lounging on a chaise on the deck of the boat.

  Maybe one day, she thought as her eyes grew heavy lidded, but when the door opened and Miguel walked in, all other thoughts fled her brain.

  He came straight away and sat on the bed, smudges as dark as charcoal beneath his brown eyes. He settled his gaze on her and said, “You’re still awake.”

  She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep so I turned on the TV. All the news channels were running stories on Rothwell.”

  He nodded and undid his tie. “It’ll only get worse in the next few days. There’s blood in the water and the sharks will be circling.”

  Maisy sat up, clutching the bed covers to her, almost defensively. She didn’t know why since Miguel had seen all of her anyway earlier that night.

  He noticed the gesture and said, “I still need to do some work. I’ll just take a nap on the couch.”

  “You need to rest. You look like you could drop,” she said and cradled his cheek. His skin was rough with a thick evening beard and she ran her thumb across it. The rasp seemed overly loud in the quiet of late night. Even louder than the television on across the room.

  Miguel seemed to sense the tension in her. He covered her hand with his. “It’s going to be okay, Maisy. We offered the licensed blaster immunity and he testified that Rothwell pressured him to provide the dynamite and wire.”

  “What kind of pressure would make someone do that?” she wondered aloud.

  With a dip of his head, Miguel said, “Davis’s wife is pregnant and on bed rest. It hit them hard financially and Rothwell said he’d fire him if he didn’t cooperate. Once he did, however, Rothwell threatened to tell police he was the Crusader.”

  “Davis and Adams. They were just pawns in Rothwell’s little game, just like my mother and me,” she said, anger rising up at Rothwell and the many lives he had ruined with his actions.

  “Not like you at all. I think you would have been strong enough to stand up to Rothwell,” he said and drew her close, offering comfort with his embrace, but she wanted more than comfort from him tonight.

  She wanted to be with him one last time because she knew that come morning, the clock would be ticking on their relationship.

  Sweeping her hand beneath his suit jacket, she helped him ease it off, her hands trembling as she restrained herself. But then he jerked off his holster, seemingly as impatient as she was. Suddenly in a rush, they tossed off clothes and sank beneath the bedcovers together, everything else forgotten except being together before the morning came.

  She urged him on with the gentle caress of her hands, bringing him close. Straining toward him because she wanted every inch of her body tight to his, as if to imprint that memory on her brain and skin.

  * * *

  THE WEARINESS THAT Miguel had felt as he’d walked in had vanished the moment she’d laid her trembling hands on him.

  He moved in her, joined with her emotionally and physically. Wishing to hold on to that connection even as he pushed them ever closer to a release. Taking her breath into his, the scent of her as the musk of their lovemaking perfumed the air.

  She arched beneath him and dug her fingers into his shoulders as she came, the bite of her nails a reminder of the pain he’d feel when she was out of his life.

  “I love you,” she cried out, her body quivering against his, and he lost it.

  “I love you, too,” he said and buried himself deep, his body shuddering as his release slammed into him.

  He eased to her side and took her into his arms, not wanting to miss a minute of being with her. His breath still choppy as hers was, until little by little it lengthened, the trauma and labors of the day stealing him away to rest.

  To dream of what it might be like if every night could be spent in the love and comfort of her arms.

  * * *

  IT SEEMED TO Maisy that she had barely fallen asleep when the noise of the shower dragged her awake.

  Her body was still slightly sore, especially the area around the gash on her arm where the shrapnel had injured her.

  But that pain was nothing compared to the ache in her chest at what might happen today. However, the pain was balanced by the possibility that Seattle and its people would be safe from the terror created by the Seattle Crusader.

  She slipped out of bed and grabbed some clothes just as Miguel came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his lean hips, droplets of water glistening on his skin. He rubbed another towel against his head to dry his hair and when he was done, the short strands stood in a disarray of spikes.

  “Good morning,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Good morning. I’m just going to take a shower,” she said and rushed away, afraid that if she said anything more, she would fall apart.

  * * *

  MIGUEL WATCHED MAISY rush off and he understood.

  Whatever had happened yesterday between them had been amazing. But today he had to deal with the reality that they might close the Seattle Crusader case and once they did that...

  He rushed and dressed, needing to get up to the BAU offices to assemble all the evidence that they had and anything else that Liam might have found while the rest of the team had been chasing after Adams and Davis.

  Which reminded him that he needed an update on Adams’s condition. It had been a few hours since the last message Madeline had sent him.

  “Good morning, Miguel,” she said, the tone of her voice a weird mix of cheery and exhausted.

  “Is it a good morning?” he asked.

  “Adams was moved to a private room about half an hour ago. Seattle PD is guarding him, and we were just heading there to see if he was able to talk to us.”

  “Keep me posted,” he said and busied himself with making coffee while Maisy showered and dressed.

  He had just finished prepping to-go cups for them when she came out of the bathroom, the wet strands of her hair framing her gorgeous face and those unforgettable blue eyes.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, the simple question loaded with so much meaning.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she responded and together they headed up to the BAU offices.

  When they entered, Nicholas was at their whiteboard, filling in the information they had gotten the night before from their unsubs.

  As he shot a quick look at the board, he thought they had enough evidence to support charges against Rothwell and Adams, especially with the licensed blaster agreeing to testify in exchange for immunity. But he wanted the case to be bulletproof and with Davis getting immunity, a good attorney would try to downplay his testimony by arguing that Davis would say anything to avoid prison time.

  Which meant they needed every bit of evidence they could get.

  He guided Maisy to the table and noticed that Liam was at his computer, wearing the same clothes that he’d had on the day before.

  He walked over and clapped Liam on the back. “Have you been here all night?”

  Liam glanced up at him, eyes bleary with exhaustion. “I have, but I think you’ll be happy with what I’ve found out.”

  “Why don’t you come and fill us in and then head home,” he said, but a second later, Lorelai walked in and shot a worried glance at Liam.

  “You don’t look too good,” she said and went to his side. She brushed her hand across the short strands of his light brown hair, the gesture loving and dragging a smile from Liam.

  “I’ll be okay,” he said and lovingly laid a hand on Lorelai’s slender waist, but she jerked back, the earlier tenderness gone.

  She was all business as she said, “Director Branson has seen the news and has asked that you call her and provide a report on where you stand with the investigation.”

  Miguel eyed Liam. “Are you ready to add your input to the report?”

  Liam nodded. “Totally ready.”

  “I’ll set up the video call,” Lorelai said and marched away, her stilettos snapping against the tiled floor.

  Liam tracked her departure and smiled sadly. “I’m a fool,” he muttered.

  As Miguel glanced toward their work area, his gaze fixed on Maisy and he muttered, “You’re not the only one.”

  He didn’t wait for Liam’s reply, although the tech guru followed him to the main work area so he could provide his report as part of the update to Director Branson.

  The ever efficient Lorelai pressed several buttons and a second later the video feed from his boss jumped onto the projection monitor at the front of the room.

  “Good morning, Olivia,” Miguel said.

  Olivia nodded. “Good morning. I see from the news reports that we have several suspects in custody. Do you have anything to add?”

  “Rothwell is being held by Seattle PD along with a licensed blaster who worked for him. We’ve given Davis, the blaster, immunity in exchange for his testimony. Chris Adams, the individual who actually placed the bombs at the various locations, is in the hospital. Special Agents Striker and West are waiting to conduct an additional interview with him, but Adams has confirmed that Rothwell hired him to do the bombings. It appears Rothwell himself made the bombs, but we’re going to need additional physical evidence to prove that,” Miguel advised and then looked toward Liam. He gestured to him and said, “Agent McDare has some information for us.”

  Liam stepped forward. “We had tracked one shell company to Rothwell, but I was able to also connect the second shell company to him. More importantly, it appears that Rothwell has placed insurance claims for both of the properties which were damaged.”

  Olivia nodded. “So in addition to using the bombings to possibly improve his public perception during his campaign, he’s benefitting financially as well.”

  “It seems that way. We’ll work on getting a search warrant of his various properties to see if we can turn up any other evidence. In the meantime, we’re preparing our report so that the U.S. attorney can review the cases against the various individuals and proceed with action as is appropriate,” he said.

  “Wonderful news, Miguel, and thank you to all the team members. I’ll report to the FBI director. If there are any other developments, please keep me posted,” she said, a broad smile on her features before she ended the video call.

  Miguel faced his team and Maisy, likewise smiling. “You’ve all done a great job, but now we have to tie up any loose ends so that the case the government presents is airtight.”

  “I’ll keep on digging,” Liam said, but Miguel shook his head.

  “You need to take a break to make sure you don’t miss a thing. Nicholas and I will head out as soon as we have the search warrant, and also check on Adams.”

  Liam started to argue, but Lorelai jumped into the fray. “Liam, please. Miguel is right and none of us wants to see you fall flat on your face.”

  “Really? Not even you?” he said, eyes narrowed as he gazed at his ex.

  With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Not even me,” and hurried from the room.

  “I guess I’ll go,” Liam said and walked away, leaving Miguel, Nicholas, David and Maisy behind.

  Miguel glanced at Nicholas. “Can you please follow up on the search warrant?”

  “Will do,” Nicholas said and headed to his office to check.

  “We could use your skills later, David. I know you had a late night so why don’t you go get some rest as well and come back in a few hours.”

  Unlike Liam, David didn’t argue. “I’ll be back after lunch,” he said and left.

  Miguel sat beside Maisy and took her hand into his. “You didn’t get much rest last night either,” he said and loved the bright splash of color that erupted across her cheeks.

  “No thanks to you, only...” She paused, uneasy, and peered around the room. Seemingly satisfied that anything they said would be private, she said, “Where do we go from here? Back to our old lives?”

  “Isn’t that what you want? Travel. Adventure.”

  She barked out a rough laugh and shook her head. “I think I’ve had my share of adventure for a little while. Home is looking good and with the Crusader in custody, there are lots of places in Seattle that I can feature on my blog.”

  “And maybe you could even share your experience with the Crusader and the FBI, private parts omitted of course,” he said and chuckled.

  * * *

  HE HAD A wry smile on his face and Maisy wasn’t quite sure what to make of his slightly less serious demeanor this morning. Especially about a subject as serious as what the future would hold for them. But she didn’t want to weigh down the discussion quite so soon.

  “I don’t know, Miguel. I bet some people would be interested in how the FBI works undercovers,” she teased and got a kick out of how a stain of color worked across his cheeks.

  “I think the only person I want interested is you, Maisy. It’s not what I expected when this investigation started, believe me,” he admitted with a wag of his head.

  “Me either, but here we are, and I can’t imagine not having you in my life, as hard as it might be,” she said and cupped his cheek.

  “It is hard. Dangerous. And I can’t ask you to live with that fear. With the possibility that one day—”

  She didn’t let him finish, laying her thumb across his lips to silence him. “I know you’ve seen that firsthand with your mom.”

  “And with her partner, who was killed with her. He left behind his wife and a newborn. I saw her pain and the loss.”

  “Pain and loss are part of life sometimes, but do you know what’s sadder? Never having loved at all. Never experiencing what we’ve experienced in the last few days. That comfort and peace. The joy that I found in your arms,” she said, leaned forward and kissed him.

  * * *