Chapter 5
Jürgen didn’t answer.
He may not have been capable.
We left and walked back down the hallway toward the elevators.
Jack muttered, “You think maybe that guy is out of his mind and mistook Rudolph for someone else?”
I sighed, “We may never find out.”
The blip of heart monitors and the wheeze of ventilators drifted into the hallway. We couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. Talk about depressing.
My phone buzzed with a call from the sheriff as we arrived at the elevators. Jack hit the call button.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I need you two nitwits to get down to the wharf?”
“What’s going on?”
“You didn’t hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“A bomb went off at the old Crab & Claw.”
My brow wrinkled with confusion. Seemed like an odd target. “Didn’t that place close down last month? Why blow it up?”
“Insurance fraud, maybe. Who knows? At least the place was empty.”
“Any casualties?”
“Nothing major. I think a few tourists got hit with shards of exploding glass.”
“We’re on our way,” I said.
We stepped into the elevator when the doors opened and plunged down to the lobby. JD and I ran across the lot to the Porsche.
It didn’t take long to get to the wharf. Emergency lights flashed. EMTs and paramedics triaged people for minor cuts and abrasions. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered, snapping photos and grabbing cellphone video.
Debris lay scattered everywhere. The building that used to be on the edge of the water was non-existent now. It had been vaporized.
The Bomb Squad and the ATF sorted through the rubble.
"What do we know?" I asked the sheriff.
"Building is owned by Bruce Pickens. Closed down last month. That place has been slowing down for years. My guess is the owner's upside down. Needs the insurance money for a remodel or to cash out. If that's the case, he's going to spend a long time in federal prison.”
"Have you talked to him yet?"
"No. But that's what you guys are gonna do.”
Paris and her news crew were on the scene, capturing footage of the destruction.
Seagulls hung on the breeze, going about their business as usual.
There was something off about the scene. There wasn’t as much debris as I would have expected. The acrid stench of explosive material didn't linger in the air.
It was a good thing the building was isolated. The old Crab & Claw had been built over the water, away from other restaurants and shops on the wharf. All that remained were bits and pieces of the floor and a few of the pilings.
My phone buzzed my pocket. I pulled the device out and looked at the screen.
Unknown.
I hated answering unknown callers. Usually spammers. I swiped the screen and held the device to my ear. "This is Deputy Wild.”
A rather cheery fellow said, "I'm so glad you picked up. How do you like my handiwork?"
Anger tensed my jaw, but I was also optimistic. At least we had contact with the perpetrator. "So you're responsible?”
"It didn't happen on its own," he quipped.
It was always wise to be cautious when dealing with anonymous phone calls. Sometimes crackpots would call just to get a thrill.
“Tell me what kind of device was used.”
"I can’t give away all my secrets. Where's the fun in that?"
"So this is a game?"
"Isn't everything?”
"People could have been killed."
"I'm glad you're aware of the consequences. I think it's important to establish what's at stake.”
"How about you come down to the station and we can have a more in-depth conversation about this?"
He laughed. “I'm curious, does that line ever work?”
"Sometimes."
"I'm sorry, Deputy, but you'll have to work harder than that.”
"You know my name, but I don't know yours,” I said.
"You don't think I'm stupid, do you, Deputy? Keep on with these mid-wit tactics, and I will get offended. Rest assured, you don't want me to get offended.”
"I apologize. I didn't realize you were so sensitive.”
He paused for a moment. "I would start taking this more seriously if I were you.”
"How do I know you're not some crank trying to take credit for something you didn't do?”
After another pause, he said, “I suppose you're right. You must get a lot of that.”
"From time to time. Give me a piece of information. Something only the bomb designer would know."
He thought about it for a moment. "I suspect the ATF and your bomb squad are combing through everything, looking for fragments of the explosive device, hoping to track parts to their point of purchase.
I can assure you, they will be unsuccessful.
This bomb is unlike anything you have ever seen.
Once you realize that, you'll know you're talking to the right person.”
"Sounds impressive."
"It is.”
"Help me understand. What's the point of this? Why blow up an abandoned restaurant?”
"It's simple. Haven't you figured it out yet?”
"I want to hear your perspective.”
"It got your attention, didn't it?"
He did indeed.
"The next one won't be so benign. You have 24 hours to find and disable it. If I were you, I wouldn't dillydally.”
"Where should I look?"
"It's a small island. I'm sure a man of your experience can find the device. If not, I will have overestimated your abilities.”
"I need some kind of clue. This is a game after all, isn't it?"
“It’s under your nose, but not in plain sight, hidden inside the town’s best delight. Deep, thick, or thin, it all just depends, authentic and true, it never pretends.”
I let the words soak into my brain, processing everything. "Is that it? Is that all I get?”
"You have 24 hours, Deputy. Starting now.”