Finn was starting to believe the guy, but until they had proof he or his wife had nothing to do with the bombing, they couldn’t officially rule them out. Russ might not feel the same way as he continued to pummel Eckles with questions, but the guy held up under the onslaught.

  Russ stood. “I’ll give you one last chance to tell me anything you haven’t shared.”

  Eckles blinked up at Russ. “There’s nothing. At least not that I know of.”

  Russ glared down at the guy. “If I find out you and your wife are still hiding things from me, I’ll throw the book at you both.”

  “No worries,” Eckles said, but his face was tight. “We’ve put it all out there for you.”

  Russ turned Eckles over to a deputy to escort them out of the building, and Russ and Ryleigh stepped into the hallway.

  Finn joined them, and they all tromped to the lobby that smelled of orange cleaner to retrieve their phones and weapons, then head out to the parking lot. Finn had to admit to being glad to be out of the sheriff’s office and in the sunshine, but the warm sun didn’t change anything. They still didn’t have a solid lead on their bomber’s identity.

  Finn stopped and faced the others. “Looks like they’re a dead-end except for their connection to Carla Nye.”

  “Yeah, but at least our questions were answered,” Ryleigh said.

  “Not sure I’m ready to agree with that.” Russ frowned. “I get the feeling there’s something they’re still holding back.”

  “Hopefully, Nick’s or Colin’s research will tell us what.” Ryleigh started to shove her phone into her pocket but it rang, and she looked at it.

  “Speaking of Nick.” She tapped the screen. “The sheriff and Finn are with me so putting you on speaker, Nick.”

  “I’ve had a chance to interrogate the Roomba during my breaks.” Nick’s excited tone shot through the phone. “You’ll want to see what I found on the machine’s memory. Could be the very lead you need to bring in this bomber.”

  15

  Ryleigh stepped toward Nick, where he sat at a portable table near the front of the mill property. Reid had erected tables and chairs in this area to serve the Veritas lunch. The Roomba sat on the table next to Nick’s computer. He had his face in his laptop and seemed oblivious to the soft breeze blowing his hair or all the commotion around him.

  Question was, was he being overly dramatic in his promise of a lead or did he really have something great?

  Finn trailed behind her, and she waited for him to rush past and pounce on Nick, but he didn’t. Another oddity that she couldn’t explain.

  Nick looked up and a broad smile crossed his face. “Thanks for coming.”

  “What do you have that you couldn’t send to me?” Ryleigh didn’t mean to sound like she was put out for coming here. She was going to meet Grady and Trent at the explosives’ depot anyway and would’ve driven right past the mill.

  “Well, I could’ve emailed it, but thought if you had any questions, I’d be right here to answer them.” He pointed at the chair next to him. “Besides, it’s always nice to see when an investigator gets excited about a lead, and this is a good one.”

  “Okay, stop tormenting us and show us what you have.” She took the chair next to Nick.

  Finn stood behind them.

  Nick clicked his mouse on a video displayed on his screen. “This is a snippet from the Roomba.”

  The screen filled with a pair of boots in motion. Not like Gates’s work boots, but very unique black leather boots with crisscrossing leather straps starting at the instep and held in place with silver buckles. The straps, placed about an inch apart, continued up the boots as far as she could see. The shiny silver heel glinted on the screen.

  “Those don’t belong to Gates,” she said, her excitement piqued just like Nick claimed would happen. “Or at least, he only had work boots in his closet, and these weren’t found in his truck either. Plus, the boots don’t have a lift, and the guy isn’t limping.”

  “Looks like he had a visitor,” Finn stated.

  Nick nodded. “An earlier video shows these boots followed by the work boots walking past the camera. It was recorded the day before the bomb went off around one p.m.”

  “Right before Gates was due at work.” Finn gripped Ryleigh’s chair and leaned closer, his scent of minty soap enveloping her. “This guy could be the last person other than the mill workers who saw Gates alive.”

  “And the guy who trashed Gates’s place,” Nick added.

  “He ransacked the townhouse?” Finn asked. “You see that on the video?”

  “I did. Let me fast forward to show you.” Nick sped up the video to later in the day at four p.m. The unique boots appeared, but then moved out of view and items hit the floor in the kitchen. Dishes. Pans. Canned and boxed foods. Spices. Silverware.

  “That’s it for now.” Nick stopped the video. “He moves out of camera range, and the next time we see the boots, the guy is walking out the front door a couple of hours later.”

  “I imagine Gates came home from work to find his place trashed,” Finn said. “Maybe he knew this guy did it. Maybe not. Either way, he didn’t report it to the police.”

  “The big question is why,” Finn said. “We need to get more information on these boots.”

  “Way ahead of you.” Nick grinned. “They’re made by New Rock, a company out of Spain.”

  “Spain,” she said. “That could limit the number of people who would own them.”

  “You’d think so, but look at this.” Nick clicked an internet link. “The boots are sold online.”

  “Well, drat.” Ryleigh stared at the Amazon page Nick had brought up.

  “Still, the description says it’s a vintage style.” Finn lifted his hands from the chair and moved back. “And the boots look worn so maybe someone knows who has a pair around here.”

  Ryleigh nodded. “We can ask around. Local gossips are bound to know if anyone owns boots like these.”

  “Give me a minute to isolate and enhance a still shot.” Nick’s fingers slid over the computer trackpad. “And I’ll text it to you.”

  “Perfect.” Eager to move forward on this lead, Ryleigh got up. She came face-to-face with Finn.

  Something flared in his eyes, but it quickly evaporated, and he stepped back. “You have a plan?”

  “Seems like a boot for someone who cares about their appearance,” she said, her thoughts still perking. “Someone like Keenan who thinks he’s a ladies’ man. We can show the picture to Pauline. She might know if he wears New Rock boots.”

  “Sounds like a good start.”

  “And if it’s not him, then we can ask locals if they recognize the style.” She was already thinking about the shop owners in town who would likely know.

  Finn smiled. “We might finally have something, and the bomber’s ID could be within reach.”

  She returned his smile and got lost in the warmth flowing her way. The urge to touch him was strong. Very strong. But the wind kicked up, whipping the stench of burnt materials in the air and snapping her back to task.

  “Ryleigh,” Grady called out from down the hill where he and Trent were trudging toward them. “Ready to check out that explosives’ depot?”

  “We good to go?” she asked Nick.

  “Have at it. I can text the still shot so off you go.” He flicked his hands as if they were bugs he was swatting away.

  “Ready,” she told Grady, but wished she was going to see Pauline instead to ask if these fancy silver-heeled boots belonged to Dean Keenan.

  Finn had parked on the road just shy of the deputy standing at the top of Shadow Lake Logging’s driveway. He forbid them from driving down the hill. In fact, he’d insisted on calling Russ to ask if they had permission to access the place at all.

  Not that Finn could go into the explosives’ depot anyway, but he could head down the hill with the men and Ryleigh to answer any questions they might have about the inventory or procedures.

  The deputy gave them a thumbs up, and Finn pushed open his truck door. He met Ryleigh by the hood. Trent and Grady had gotten a phone call before leaving that they’d had to take, so they hadn’t arrived yet.

  “I can at least get the door open for the guys.” Ryleigh led the way around the deputy, who eyed them both.

  On the other side of the barrier, something set Finn’s protective instincts into overdrive, and he caught up to her while scanning the property. He searched the valley and the area around the building. Watched for movement. A flash of a weapon. But saw nothing except grass and weeds swaying in the breeze and a bright beam of sunlight shining down on the building and making it look less institutional.

  Was he missing something and someone was hiding on site? Someone the deputy hadn’t seen?

  Not likely. But Finn got a hinky feeling when approaching situations that could possibly go wrong and the feeling was creeping over him. He eased closer to Ryleigh. She didn’t seem to notice and kept moving.

  Boom!

  The ground shook, and the office erupted in front of them.

  Finn didn’t think. He grabbed Ryleigh and took her to the ground, covering her with his body.

  A concussive force hit him hard and thundered over his back. Building shards shot through the air, skimming over his shirt. Sharp, needle-like pain stung the back of his neck. The building rumbled. Groaned. Metal twisted with wails of pain.

  He hazarded a look down the hill. The building’s upper floor wobbled and collapsed. A billow of debris-laden dust swirled up the driveway.

  He turned his head to let the cloud pass over them.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  “Other than being crushed by you, yeah.” Her terrified tone cut him to the core.

  “Sorry.” He lifted on his elbows but remained in place to stop any additional flying shrapnel from harming her.

  “No worries,” she said. “You got me to the ground faster than I would have done on my own.”

  His gut hadn’t failed him. He let out a long breath of relief and looked up the hill. “The deputy’s down.”

  “You okay, Deputy?” he called out.

  No response or movement.

  Concern rising, Finn lifted higher. “I’ve got a first aid kit in my truck.”:

  “I’ll call 911 and Russ while you get it.”

  Finn rolled free and came to his feet, breathing as shallowly as possible to keep from sucking in dust particles.

  He charged up the hill and grabbed his kit from the back of his truck. He saw Ryleigh on the phone, then they both ran toward the deputy. Finn was trained in combat emergency treatment, and he’d had to administer his share of emergency aid to fellow SEALs, so he was confident in his skills, but the deputy wasn’t moving and that was never a good sign.

  Ryleigh beat him to the injured man, tossed her phone to the ground, and felt his neck for a pulse. The deputy stirred and rolled to his side.

  “Don’t move.” Ryleigh placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have a large piece of shrapnel in your back, and you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “What happened?”

  Finn glanced down the driveway to see if the building had caught fire, but he didn’t see any flames. “A bomb took out the office.”

  “How’s that even possible?” He brushed off Ryleigh’s hand and tried to sit up but failed and fell back to his side. “We’ve had eyes on this place twenty-four/seven.”

  “We’ll figure that out,” Ryleigh said. “But for now, rest and don’t move or you might make your injury worse.”

  “This is my watch. I can’t just lay here. You both okay?”

  “We’re fine,” Ryleigh said.

  “I doubt anyone could be in the building, but if someone got in to set a bomb without us seeing it, a person could’ve gotten in the same way.”

  “Let us worry about that,” Finn said. “I’ll help stop your blood loss, then assess the damage.”

  “Plus, I’ve already called 911 and Sheriff Maddox,” Ryleigh said. “And I know he would want you to listen to us.”

  The deputy sagged against the gravel. “Fine, but hurry up and get down there.”

  “Will do,” Finn said, but the bleeding had to be stopped or Finn wasn’t going anywhere. He had special blood clotting gauze in his kit, and he applied it to the wound, his fingers immediately coated in sticky blood.

  “Hold these in place,” he instructed Ryleigh.

  She didn’t flinch but took over the job and didn’t back down even when the deputy moaned in pain.

  “What’s your name?” Finn asked to distract the guy.

  “Eddie.”

  “Well, Eddie, this is going to hurt a bit but hang with me.” Finn grabbed rolls of gauze and secured the projectile to Eddie’s back so it didn’t continue to move, pushing Ryleigh’s hands out of the way when he no longer needed her to hold the quick-clotting gauze.

  Finished, he sat back to assess. The gauze didn’t darken with blood. Good. At the very least Finn had slowed it down.

  He stood. “That should hold until the medics get here. I’m going down there to see if others are trapped or injured. Call out if the bleeding starts again.”

  Ryleigh peered up at him, her gaze unreadable. Did she want to go with him? Want him to stay here while she investigated? He shouldn’t just assume it was up to him to go to the building, but he had more experience with this kind of debris and destruction.

  She swallowed. “Be careful.”

  He nodded and took off, picking his way down the driveway cluttered with shards of concrete and wood from the building. At the bottom, he had a good view of the explosives’ depot. The little building stood strong amidst the debris. If it had exploded, none of them would’ve likely survived.

  Thank You for that!

  But Finn wasn’t foolish enough to approach the depot. Not when another device could be set. The good news was that the camera was still intact too, meaning they might have video stored in the cloud. And if they could safely get into the building, they might be able to recover footage that captured the bomber stealing explosives.

  Finn took a good look at the main structure. The back wall still stood but the second story had collapsed as he’d watched. Twisted metal rebar stood as jagged spears along the perimeter. The concrete smothered the first floor and anyone who potentially had been in the building. Dust and pollutants still lingered in the air, but so far fire hadn’t broken out.

  A small blessing. Maybe a big one if the surrounding area didn’t catch fire.

  “Anyone in there?” Finn yelled. “Call out so we can help.”

  He leaned closer and listened, bringing back all kinds of unpleasant memories from his deployments. He didn’t have PTSD as a lot of guys suffered from, but he still didn’t like to recall missions that ended in similar situations. Especially where innocent lives were lost. Most horrifically, children’s lives.

  He waited. Waited some more. Bending forward. Craning his neck.

  No response.

  Please, if there’s someone inside, let me hear them.

  He called out again and listened.

  Nothing.

  If someone was trapped in the rubble, they didn’t seem to be alive or at least they weren’t conscious.

  A siren sounded at the road. Either Russ or an ambulance or both.

  Finn turned to climb the hill, careful not to trip over debris. Swift movement in the distance caught his attention. He spun, drawing his sidearm, ready to charge after whoever was out there.

  A large buck sprang away in the thicket surrounding the property. The majestic animal moved fast and disappeared from view. The poor fella was likely scared to death.

  Finn let out his breath and climbed the incline, but adrenaline continued to course through him. Russ’s patrol car pulled to a stop behind Finn’s truck, and an ambulance screeched to a halt beside it.

  Russ rushed over to his deputy, dropped to his knees, and placed a hand on his officer’s shoulder. “How you doing, Eddie?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Eddie offered a wavering smile. “Just a scratch, and I’ll be fine.”

  Russ looked at his deputy’s back, his face pale. He seemed to battle a wave of emotions by gazing into the distance. The sheriff’s hand shook. So the strong lawman was a softie after all. At least when it came to one of his deputies getting injured.

  “Ambulance is here,” Finn said, trying to bring hope to the situation.

  Russ let out a long breath, his chest deflating like a punctured tire. “I’ll ride along with you and call your wife, Eddie, so she can meet you at the hospital.”

  “Stay here.” Eddie shot a look at Ryleigh. “She might temporarily be one of us, but she was a fed, and feds don’t know how to do a thing.” He tried to laugh but it turned into a deep agonizing cough. “They need someone who knows the real law enforcement world to keep them in line.”

  Russ chuckled, but it was forced.

  A female medic with long blond hair in a ponytail rushed up to them. “What do we have, Sheriff?”

  Russ moved out of the way. “Puncture wound in the back.”

  The medic looked at the wound. “You dress this?”

  “Nah,” Russ said. “I…” He looked around as if finally noticing Finn stood over him.

  “I did,” Finn stated. “I had first aid training in the Navy.”

  “Great work.” The medic flashed Finn a smile and then took Eddie’s vitals. “Pretty good for someone who’s trying to shirk his duties.” She chuckled.

  Eddie tried to laugh again but gave up.

  The medic looked up at her male partner. “Let’s get him on the stretcher and out of here.”

  “Stand back,” the other medic said, moving in with a backboard.

  Russ took a few more steps back, and Ryleigh and Finn joined him.

  “You’re both fine?” Russ’s voice caught.

  “Thanks to Finn’s lightning-fast reflexes.” Ryleigh looked at him, her eyes wet with tears.

  “I’m good to go,” Finn said though he knew he’d suffered some minor cuts on his neck which weren’t even worth mentioning.

  “Thank God for that.” Russ stared down the hill. “Anyone look at the building damage up close?”