Over and over the reporters repeated the Seattle Crusader’s tweets and showed photos of the damage done at the three different locations. Many of them also made note of the references to Angel Eyes, but luckily the BAU team had kept her name and photos of her from the press in order to safeguard her.

  As it had occurred to Miguel and his team, it struck her that the spot destroyed at King Street Station, as well as today’s two locations, had been fairly isolated. This was much different from the places her father had chosen. He had injured someone at almost every bombing site while, this time, thankfully no one had been hurt so far.

  But for how long? she thought. Would this bomber escalate when his unreasonable demands could not be met?

  The phone rang again, and Miguel picked it up and tucked the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he listened while continuing to work. He turned to face her and said, “Seattle ABS confirmed dynamite was used at this morning’s location. The same kind as he used at the station. They’re working at the second spot now, but initial inspections lead them to believe it was also dynamite. Blue wires again, which must be his signature.”

  She nodded, processing the info, but before she could say anything, Miguel rose and gestured for them to leave his office and join the team outside. The BAU members were gathered around the table and in front of their whiteboard with all the information they had gathered so far.

  On the television, a newscaster was just finishing up with details of the bombing and had reached out to an on-location reporter stationed just outside the construction site that had been damaged.

  “We’re here with state senate candidate Richard Rothwell. Senator Rothwell—”

  “Not Senator yet, Jessica,” Rothwell said with a smarmy smile, hands held up to stop the young female reporter.

  The reporter nodded and said, “You’ve just tweeted that politicians and the FBI are failing Seattle.”

  “They are totally failing the city and its people. It’s been close to twenty-four hours since the first bombing and we’ve heard nothing from the BAU team. Now we have two more bombings without any progress, but I can work with them to move the investigation along.”

  “Over my dead body,” Miguel said, and all the team members nodded in agreement.

  “What do you think about the bomber’s demands? Is that something local politicians should consider?” the reporter asked.

  “Well, that’s a little more complicated and my team and I are reviewing it. As you can imagine, it’s a fine line to walk when you’re dealing with a terrorist, but we’ll have something for you later today,” Rothwell postured.

  The young woman turned back toward the camera and said, “Well, there you have it. That was state senate candidate Richard Rothwell and as he said, we’ll be hearing more from him later.”

  “Hopefully not,” Nicholas said as Madeline snapped off the television.

  * * *

  MIGUEL COULDN’T AGREE MORE. He was about to address the team when Lorelai came into the room to advise that he had a call from Director Branson.

  It was impossible to miss that tech guy Liam perked up when his ex-fiancée entered, and as she walked out, he said, “How are you doing?”

  “Fine,” Lorelai replied with a diffident shrug and walked out with Miguel following her to take the call privately.

  Lorelai motioned for him to use the director’s office and as he closed the door, the phone rang and he picked up.

  “Good afternoon, Olivia. I’m assuming you’ve seen the initial reports we’ve sent you via email,” he said, hoping to head off any discussion of Rothwell’s appearance.

  “I’ve done a preliminary review in between budget sessions, but as you can imagine, the news is non-stop reports on the bombings and Rothwell. Do you have anything new to report?” she asked. In the background he heard other voices, which said she was in between meetings.

  “We just got confirmation from Seattle ABS that dynamite appears to have been used at all three locations and we’re working on tracking the source, as well as the wire used. The demands so far are unrealistic, but luckily all the locations seem to be chosen so as to not injure anyone,” he reported.

  “But he’s escalating and so is Rothwell,” she said.

  Which he hadn’t failed to notice. “He is and we’re going to have to handle Rothwell.”

  “Sooner rather than later, Miguel. I know you’re working hard on this, but it’s time you let the public know what you can and counter Rothwell’s insinuations that you’re not doing anything.”

  “But every second he takes away—”

  “Is a second you could be using to solve this case, yes. But it’s getting noticed in D.C. If we’re going to get the funding we need to continue to help others, you’re going to have to take the time to handle Rothwell.” Her voice grew muffled toward the end and he heard her say, “In a minute,” to someone else.

  Miguel inhaled deeply and blew out a harsh breath. Dragging a hand through his hair in frustration, he said, “Understood, Olivia. I’ll schedule a press conference for later today.”

  “Thank you, Miguel. I know you will get it done.”

  She disconnected before he could say another thing, clearly juggling multiple tasks on behalf of their BAU team.

  Just as he had to handle Rothwell, no matter how much he might not like it.

  Replacing the receiver, he exited Olivia’s office. “Lorelai, would you please contact Caitlyn and ask her to set up a press conference at four. I’ll let her choose the location. I just need lead time to get there.”

  “Will do, SSA Peters,” Lorelai said with a nod.

  But before he left, he said, “You doing okay? That bombing yesterday must have been scary for you.”

  She hesitated and sucked in a breath. Held it before blurting out, “It was. It makes you think about what’s important.”

  “It does. If you need to talk, we’re all here. Some more than others if you know what I mean,” he said, and she offered him a stilted smile but nodded.

  “I know. Same here, Miguel.”

  He returned to where the team and Maisy were gathered, discussing the information they had so far. Instead of interrupting, he took a seat next to Maisy and sat back to listen, absorbing their details while formulating what to say to the press later.

  In no time he had worked out what he would report, but before that, he intended to call Mack at ABS, the police chief and the mayor to give them a heads-up to what he would be saying at the press conference. Besides, it was time that BAU provide them with the information that they had so far.

  Beside him Maisy sat patiently, but he worried that with something so personal because of her background, she might be suffering emotionally during the investigation. He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze as he stood.

  “You’re all doing a great job so far. I want you to focus on finding out more about the ownership on today’s locations. Likewise, the origin of the wire. My gut tells me we’re going to find something there.”

  “On it,” Dash confirmed.

  “And we’re finalizing our profile of the serial bomber, but I have to tell you that it’s a tough one. We’re still struggling with the motivation because those demands are so unreasonable,” Madeline said.

  “Almost as if he doesn’t care if we satisfy them,” Nicholas added.

  “I agree. There’s something else motivating him. Making them do this, because I don’t believe he’s working alone. See what the DNA and fingerprints we have so far can confirm about that,” Miguel said.

  “Got it, Miguel. Nicholas and I will work on that while Dash and his techs deal with the rest,” Madeline advised.

  “Great. Maisy and I are going to take a short break and prepare for the press conference,” he said and with another gentle squeeze on Maisy’s shoulder, he urged her to rise and head to his office for the preparation he had mentioned.

  But as soon as they were inside the office, Maisy said, “Will I be at the press conference?”

  It was something he’d been thinking about in addition to his statement to the reporters who would be there. In truth, he had been silently waffling about it.

  “I know that you and your mother worked hard to avoid the public eye, so I have to ask, do you want to be there?”

  Chapter Eight

  Do I want to be there? she asked herself, but the answer came to her almost immediately.

  “If you think it will help the investigation, I will be there.”

  His answer was not as immediate. After a long hesitation, he said, “I’m not sure it will help other than to let the bomber know we’re protecting you. That could draw him out—”

  “Then I will be there. I’m not afraid of him. I’m tired of being afraid,” she said, thinking of how much time she and her mother had lost hiding out from her father. All for naught since her father had tracked her down anyway.

  He stepped closer and cradled her cheek. “You’re a unique woman. Don’t ever change.”

  His touch sent comfort and need through her. It had been way too long, maybe never, since a man had looked at her like this. Touched her like this, and it was worrisome because it could upend her plans for what she’d wanted for so long.

  She took a step back from him and wrung her hands together because she was way too tempted to touch him back. To avoid it getting personal again, she said, “Do you think we could get some lunch? I’m kinda hungry.”

  In sympathy, his stomach rumbled, and he laid a hand over his lean midsection to quiet the noise. “Me, too.”

  Happy laughter and Liam’s shout of “You rock, Lorelai,” filtered into Miguel’s office. They looked back toward the common space where the rest of the team was working and where it appeared that the ever-efficient administrative assistant had arranged for lunch to be brought in.

  Miguel held his hand out in invitation. “I guess we should join them.”

  Maisy normally had trepidation about being with people, having avoided them for so long. But in just two short days, she’d grown comfortable with Miguel and his dad. Even with this group of FBI agents who had accepted her into their midst. Not an easy thing to do considering her family’s history. In the back of her mind there was still doubt about their acceptance, but she wasn’t going to let that keep her from helping them end the bomber’s reign of terror.

  They joined the team at lunch, but Maisy kept silent so she could listen and watch Miguel and the team members interact. It was clear Miguel was the person in charge and yet there wasn’t any hint of competition or tension, except for possibly the whole Lorelai-Liam situation. The tension there was obvious to everyone.

  But the rest of the team seemed fluid and assured in their positions. It made her wish that she was as sure of her position in life. After all, she’d only just really begun her life by stepping on that bus yesterday, and then it had all come to a crashing halt. Or maybe it was more accurate to say it all blew up in her face.

  Since she was surrounded by Miguel’s team, however, hope filled her that this was only a bump in the road because she trusted that they would soon solve this investigation so she could get on with her life.

  Lunch passed amiably, but as they were cleaning up and getting back to work, tension built inside her as the time neared for the press conference. With barely half an hour to go, Miguel got a call from Caitlyn with the location for the gathering.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Miguel said and shot a quick look at her.

  She couldn’t hear what the team’s liaison said, but Miguel was clearly unhappy with whatever plan was in place. Despite that, he said, “I hope you’re right.”

  He swiped to end the call and peered at her intently. “The press conference is going to be at the site of this morning’s bombing. We’ll be taking along other agents to secure the area, so you’ll be safe.”

  She peered at him, trying to read him since he was clearly not happy with Caitlyn’s choice. “But you’re not in favor of the location, are you?”

  He scowled and shook his head. “Not one hundred percent. There are too many variables in such a public place, but as I said, we’ll have other agents there for security. That’s my main concern.”

  She appreciated that, but more importantly, she had total confidence in him and his team.

  She laid a hand on his arm and said, “I trust you. I guess we should get going.”

  As he had before, he cradled her cheek, offering reassurance with that simple touch. “Thank you for that trust. I just need a few minutes to get a team together to secure the area and then we’ll head over.”

  Instead of stepping away, she cupped her hand with his and said, “Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

  * * *

  MIGUEL’S TEAM OF agents had gone ahead to secure the space and at their signal, he and Maisy drove to where a number of news teams were gathered in front of the vacant apartment building that had been slated for destruction even before the actions of the Seattle Crusader.

  As their car pulled up, Miguel noticed that besides the news crews, there were also quite a few of what appeared to be demonstrators gathered at the location. Using the headset he was wearing, he instructed his team. “Get photos of everyone in the crowd. It’s possible the bomber has come back to check out his handiwork.”

  A second later, a knock on the glass had him looking into Caitlyn’s worried features. He opened the door, stepped out and then helped Maisy from the car. “I guess someone leaked the location of the press conference,” he said to the BAU liaison.

  “I’m so sorry, SSA. You were right that this area would be hard to keep quiet,” Caitlyn said.

  “It’s okay. We can handle this,” he said, took hold of Maisy’s hand and guided her to a spot to the side of where various microphones had been placed before a sea of videographers and photographers from the local papers and television news. An agent stood there, hands folded in front of him and at his nod, Miguel guided her to the agent.

  “You’ll be okay here,” he said and at her nod, he and Caitlyn walked up to the microphones.

  Shutters clicked and reporters jockeyed for positions as Caitlyn began the press conference.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Caitlyn Yang, the BAU liaison. I have with me Supervisory Special Agent Miguel Peters, who is leading the team investigating the bombings that have taken place at King Street Station, the location behind us and the construction site in SoDo.”

  “You mean the Seattle Crusader, don’t you?” someone shouted.

  Miguel decided it was as good a time as any to take control of the press conference. “The individual we are investigating has named himself the Seattle Crusader. My team has received information from local authorities and is working on our profile of the bomber, as well as interacting with other agencies.”

  “But are you any closer to catching him?” a too-familiar voice called out from the crowd as Richard Rothwell moved to the front of the gathering and all cameras shifted in his direction.

  Before anyone could stop him, Rothwell took a spot beside Caitlyn and continued. “As I said earlier, I am more than prepared to work with the FBI in order to capture this individual. But in the meantime, why aren’t we considering some of his demands? For example, since the suspect is demanding the government up the minimum wage to twenty dollars per hour, let’s meet him in the middle and give the good people of Seattle seventeen dollars! You all deserve more, don’t you?”

  While the press conference was happening, the number of people had grown and after Rothwell finished, a crowd of supporters, probably paid to be there, cheered and held up campaign signs with his name.

  Miguel waited for the cheering to die down somewhat and said, “Thank you, Mr. Rothwell. While we appreciate the offer of assistance, my team has this under control.”

  “But do you?” Rothwell challenged, pompously puffing out a chest covered with the vest of a pin-striped suit. “I have a number of connections in government who could assist—”

  “And I appreciate the offer, but as I said, we have this under control. We’re interfacing with various agencies both here and in D.C. We’ll have more information from them shortly and will be offering our complete profile to ATF, Seattle PD and ABS within hours. Additional investigations are ongoing to pinpoint the origin of the materials used in the bombings. Finally, we believe the bomber is not acting alone and will provide additional information on this conspiracy within twenty-four hours.”

  Miguel didn’t fail to notice Rothwell’s reaction to that statement. The man did a little jump, and his face paled. It sent up a red flag and as wild as it might be, his gut told him that Rothwell’s involvement in this might be about more than the campaign.

  Replacing his obvious discomfit with bluster, Rothwell said, “I can assure you that we’re all looking forward to your report, Agent Peters.”

  Tired of the man and his interruptions, he said, “That’s Supervisory Special Agent Peters, Mr. Rothwell. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have bombers to catch.”

  He didn’t wait for any questions, leaving Caitlyn to wind up the press conference and forward any pertinent questions to him at his office. To the side of the space, he joined Maisy and the agent guarding her, who walked them to the car waiting to return them to the BAU offices.

  As soon as they were seated and on the way, Maisy said, “You said ‘bombers.’ I know your team was tossing that out, but are you sure?”

  He thought about it for a hot second and nodded. “The team put it out there for discussion after the Crusader’s tweets. My gut tells me we’re not wrong going that route. This bomber isn’t acting alone. Which reminds me...”