Chapter Two
Raquelle was on pins and needles as she waited for word on whether or not her brother had succumbed to the flames that ripped through his pontoon like a firestorm.
Surely Eddie couldn’t still be alive on the boat.
And if he was, his injuries would be so severe that she wasn’t so sure he would want to keep living, in spite of their appreciation for the gift of life, no matter its unpredictable journey.
As firefighters went to work to put out the flames—after other nearby boats had been evacuated—and people had gathered to gawk as though visiting a tourist attraction, Raquelle turned toward her ex-husband.
She was still coming to grips with him being there at the scene—albeit too late to prevent what might have happened to Eddie.
Had he called Landon to ask for help? What were the two involved with that had them in close contact?
Raquelle knew that they both got along fairly well during her marriage to Landon. But once it was over, Landon seemed to make a concerted effort to distance himself from both her and Eddie. Her brother seemed to think that this was for the best, as she had. So what changed?
She regarded Landon. Though his chiseled features were hardened, she had to admit that he had changed little since they first met.
If anything, he was even more handsome, if possible, than the man she fell in love with years ago.
And every bit as fit, judging by the contours of his firm frame beneath the clothing and FBI vest. But he had matured over time, which made him even more appealing to the eye.
Now, though, was not the time to reminisce. Or look beyond the unsettling moment at hand.
Raquelle regarded her ex hotly and asked suspiciously, “What happened here…?”
Landon paused, then responded evasively, “Hard to say at this point. It could be an accident or something else… Why don’t we wait and see what the fire marshal says—”
She could tell that he was dodging the issue and wouldn’t let him off the hook, considering what had happened. “Eddie told me to talk to you—after leaving me a voicemail, telling me he was in trouble… He seemed to fear for his life—”
Landon ran a hand across his mouth musingly before meeting her gaze. “He had a reason for that… We can discuss it later. For now, I’d rather focus on your brother’s current plight and go from there.”
Or, in other words, wait to confirm that Eddie is dead before elaborating on the details, Raquelle told herself, reading between the lines.
She wasn’t really in a position to argue the point, aware of just how obstinate her ex-husband could be at times.
Even when acting as an FBI special agent.
But she needed to know what was going on that brought him and Eddie together, apparently putting her brother in harm’s way.
“All right,” she acquiesced.
Landon nodded and went into contemplative mode, which told Raquelle he was clearly troubled about their being reunited under such scary circumstances.
So was she. More than once, she had considered taking the first step in reopening the lines of communication.
At the very least, she wanted to come to some better understanding about why things fell apart between them.
But as always, it never seemed like the right time.
And for his part, as he made no serious effort in this regard, it seemed pointless.
Raquelle’s reverie was broken when they were approached by the South Carolina State Fire Marshal Joseph Lieberstein.
He was in his fifties and thickset, with graying hair in a short comb-over style and bushy brows.
Looking grim, he took a breath as he gazed at her and asked knowingly, “Your brother owned the boat?”
“Yes,” Raquelle told him, nerves rattled. “Eddie Jernigan.”
Lieberstein nodded and said with a catch to his tone, “The boat was totally destroyed by the fire.” A pause. “We didn’t find any human remains on the boat,” he said flatly.
Raising a brow in disbelief, Raquelle asked him hopefully, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” the fire marshal responded. “If anyone was on board beforehand, they were able to escape before the explosion.”
Thank goodness for that, she thought, breathing a huge sigh of relief that her brother might still be alive.
Landon stepped toward him and, after flashing his credentials while identifying himself, asked the fire marshal deliberately, “Do you have any idea how the fire started?”
Lieberstein pinched his long nose. “Still in the early stages of the investigation, but it appears as though an explosive device went off on the boat. Whether this was meant more to destroy whatever was on it or targeting the owner in specific, remains to be seen. We’ve called in the Falona County Sheriff’s Office Bomb Squad. ”
“Okay.” Landon frowned. “Someone was definitely sending a message of sorts,” he contended. “The sooner we can get to the bottom of it, the better for everyone.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Lieberstein said and then eyed Raquelle. “Hope you can locate your brother alive and well.”
“Me too,” she told him. The notion of a bomb detonating on Eddie’s boat—likely intended to go off with him on it—frazzled Raquelle’s emotions.
She watched the fire marshal walk away, then she turned to Landon.
“I saw a man wearing a hoodie, running away from the boats,” she recalled.
“Could he have been responsible for the explosion—believing that Eddie was on his boat…?”
“It’s possible,” Landon conceded. He regarded her thoughtfully. “Could it have been Eddie that you saw leaving the scene of the crime?”
“Eddie?” Raquelle batted her lashes. “No! I’m sure I would recognize my own brother—thank you.
” She understood that he was asking the question in more of an official capacity than as a former brother-in-law.
Or ex-spouse. Still, the mere suggestion that Eddie might have blown up his own cherished boat was way off base.
“Had to ask.” Landon’s voice softened guiltily. “We’ll see what investigators and surveillance cameras come up with. In the meantime, if Eddie is still alive, we need to find him.”
“You’re right—we do.” Raquelle was glad that he wasn’t shutting her out. At least in this instance, in which she had to know that her brother was okay. She still needed Landon to be upfront with her on whatever information he had on this situation.
“We can start off by seeing if Eddie’s at his apartment.” Landon brushed against her shoulder, causing an immediate ripple effect throughout Raquelle’s body. “I’ll follow you there. And keep trying to see if you can reach him by phone. Or if he tries to contact you in any way, let me know.”
“I will,” she promised and headed with him to the parking area while managing to keep her emotions in check for now.
* * *
LANDON WAITED FOR her to get inside her vehicle. He started to say something but held up, not believing it was the time to say more about Eddie and his possible fate. “See you in a bit,” he said instead and stood mute till she drove off.
Heading to his own SUV, Landon took out his cell phone and called Katie Kitagawa to share the disquieting news about Eddie.
She picked up with a teasing, “Hey. Miss me already, Briscoe?”
Normally, he might have found an appropriately amusing comeback, knowing that she was happily dating Tony Razo, the US marshal for the District of South Carolina. Instead, Landon got right to the point as he said tersely, “My CI’s boat just exploded.”
“Seriously?” Katie asked shockingly.
“Yeah. Went up in flames at the Knotter Marina. The fire marshal thinks it was a bomb.”
“Wow.” She muttered an expletive. “Was anyone on it?”
“No, thankfully. It was unoccupied.” Landon sighed. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to reach Eddie.”
Katie paused. “You think he’s dead?”
“Don’t know.” It was an honest answer but a shaky one at best. Landon reached his Tahoe. “I’m heading over to his place now.”
“Have you spoken to your ex about this?” she asked tentatively.
“Briefly,” he answered musingly, having been upfront with her and the Bureau about his relationship with Eddie.
It—or he—was seen as an asset rather than a liability in gaining important intel on the underbelly of the art world.
“Raquelle was at the marina when I got there. Eddie left her a voicemail indicating something was up—without elaborating. Needless to say, she’s not taking this very well. Neither am I.”
“Not too surprising,” Katie told him. “But you don’t know what you don’t know as to Jernigan’s status…”
“True.” Landon got inside the SUV. He wouldn’t get too far ahead of himself, resolving to keep an open mind, within reason.
After they disconnected, Landon contacted the Bureau’s Weapons of Mass Destruction Directorate’s Investigations and Operations Section to report a possible WMD incident, assuming Eddie’s boat was, in fact, bombed.
The FBI would, as always, coordinate its efforts with the Falona County Sheriff’s Office Bomb Squad and certified explosives specialists from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives in getting answers.
For Landon’s part, with Eddie as his CI in a major federal investigation, and possibly missing in action, there was an even greater sense of urgency here to solve the case and locate his ex-brother-in-law.
And then there was Raquelle. The ordeal of seeing her brother’s boat burst into flames before her very eyes had to weigh heavily on her.
The only way of getting that vision out of her head would be to find Eddie still alive and in good health. And able to stay that way.
Both could be a high bar to clear, from Landon’s point of view.
He had a sense that the explosion was much more than making a statement.
Or sending a message. Though it wasn’t totally implausible that Eddie could have blown his own boat to smithereens, perhaps to throw pursuers off the trail, Landon seriously doubted he would take such extreme measures.
He knew that Eddie treasured his boat like one might a newborn baby.
As such, it was inconceivable that he would want to destroy it.
Moreover, Eddie didn’t have it in him to do something that put other boats and their occupants at risk just to save his own skin.
That left Landon certain that the explosion was likely the work of the art-crime syndicate that Eddie was trying to help them to bring down.
How had Eddie managed to avoid a date with death? Or had he?
Landon considered the man who Raquelle spotted fleeing the scene. He agreed with her that had it been Eddie, she would have recognized him. Unless she only saw the man wearing a hoodie with a passing glance and, as such, never truly homed in on him with clarity.
I’ll give Raquelle the benefit of the doubt that it wasn’t Eddie she saw, he told himself as he followed her car to Eddie’s residence in the nearby town of Gadwall Heights.
Landon feared that Eddie, if alive, would not have gone there if he believed they were onto him and figured out that he wasn’t on the boat.
But what if Eddie never got the opportunity to escape?
Landon was bothered by the fact that neither he nor Raquelle had heard from her brother. If Eddie felt his back was up against the wall, wouldn’t he reach out for help to either the FBI or the person he cared most about (apart from himself) in the world?
I can’t put myself inside the man’s head, Landon thought smartly, even if as his CI and former brother-in-law he had gotten a fair read on Eddie. Or had he?
After arriving at the Bechum Apartments complex on Klatton Road, which was close to a forested area, Landon got out of the SUV and walked up to Raquelle, who was waiting for him.
“I have a key,” she said, holding it up for his eyes. “Eddie wanted me to hang on to his spare one, in case I ever needed to drop by for any reason and he wasn’t around.”
“Nice of him,” Landon said, wishing he had thought of extending the same offer to her to stay at his house when he moved back to the greater Columbia region. Would she have accepted? “Do you see his car anywhere?” He scanned the parking lot, looking for Eddie’s white Audi Q4 Sportback e-tron.
“No—it’s not here,” Raquelle told him, a note of regret in her tone.
“Maybe he left the car elsewhere deliberately and walked the rest of the way.” Landon wasn’t sure he bought that but wanted to hold out hope that Eddie was holed up inside. “Let’s check it out.”
“All right.”
“I lead, you follow,” he warned her, in case they ran into trouble.
Raquelle didn’t argue the point, but she was clearly anxious to appease her worry regarding her brother’s whereabouts.
Landon walked up to the door of the third-floor unit. Before he could ask Raquelle for the key, he could see that the door was slightly ajar. Instinctively, he pulled out his firearm and told her, “Wait here.”
Though seemingly irritated at the order, she complied. He kicked the door open and went inside to check it out. His feet were firmly planted on the hardwood floor as Landon looked for any signs of movement.
The place had been ransacked. While he had never known Eddie to be a neat freak, it was obvious to Landon that someone had done a number on the apartment, its contemporary furnishings turned upside down, inside out. Clearly, someone was looking for something, apart from Eddie himself.
When Landon finished checking out the two-bedroom apartment, he found Raquelle standing in the doorway, looking shell-shocked as she took in the mess before her.
“Eddie’s not here,” he told her, as if this would somehow appease her, given what she was looking at.
“So don’t come any further, as this has to be considered a crime scene now—”
Raquelle peered at him but did move an inch. “Who did this, Landon?” she demanded. “I need to know what’s going on with my brother, as you obviously do.” Her tone lowered an octave. “Please…”
Between the mesmerizing glint in her brown eyes, a pout on those full lips, and the stark realization that this was not something he could keep from Raquelle any longer, he was feeling contrite that her brother’s life might well be hanging in the balance.
Landon met her at the door. “I need to call this in,” he said. He wanted to get the investigation rolling in what was clearly a felony breaking and entering, based on the damage, and overlapped between local and federal jurisdiction, under the circumstances. “Then we can talk in your car.”