Chapter Nine #2
Back in the garage, she closed the overhead door and began the frustrating process.
She turned a plastic container upright and started to repack the scattered items. Thankfully most of her ornaments were plastic so they hadn’t shattered.
She carefully smoothed out the crumpled packing paper to ensure nothing had been written on any of it or was tucked into the folds and wrinkles.
As she went through the motions, her mind sharpened to the possibilities.
She checked beneath the containers. Inside even the smallest box and package.
All the little things Janey had made—yarn angels, craft paper pumpkins, so many little things—made Brenda smile. Made her heart lighter.
Once Christmas and Easter as well as Halloween decor was packed away, she started on the treasures she had saved from her parents’ home.
Most of the pieces were inside her home.
But there were some things she really hadn’t been able to use but hadn’t wanted to part with.
Those she carefully repacked, inspecting each one methodically first.
It took nearly an hour to get the job done, but when she dusted her hands, the garage was back in order, and she felt a new sense of buoyancy.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Ben suggested with a smile.
“Not if you say it quickly enough.” She laughed, the sound weary. “I am a little disappointed that we didn’t find anything.” She took a long look around. “But at least it’s back in order. I’m very grateful for that.”
“Believe it or not,” he pointed out, “investigators spend most of their time doing exactly this—turning over rocks and finding nothing relevant to the case.”
“Good to know it’s not just us.” She smiled, a real one, couldn’t help herself.
She had needed a hint of humor after the last twenty-four hours.
It was one thing to be surprised by a sudden death or other disturbing life event, but then to have the situation twisted around and turned upside down and then tossed back at her was a whole other level of misery.
He hitched a thumb toward the alley where she’d parked her car. “I can pull it back in now, if you’d like.”
“Sure. Thanks.” She slipped the fob from her back pocket and tossed it to him.
He caught it and headed out to the alley.
The chirp of the fob sounded. A split second later an explosion echoed in the air.
Ben was suddenly rushing toward her…and then they were on the concrete floor of the garage.
Maybe it was the shock of the explosion, or the way Ben wrapped himself around her and rolled, but she hadn’t felt the impact of landing. For a moment some imperceptible sound hummed in her ears, blocking out all else.
Her gaze locked with his. “What the hell was that?” she asked, or maybe she yelled.
She couldn’t be sure…couldn’t breathe…then she realized it was the weight of his body atop her own. As if he’d sensed this, he got up, pulled her with him. He ushered her toward the walk-through door.
“Stay here while I have a look.”
Brenda didn’t argue. Her head was still spinning. She watched him walk away. Blinked once, twice before her gaze rested on her car. The driver’s-side door was missing…
She frowned, then noticed the damaged door lying on the apron leading up from the driveway into the garage at the open overhead door. Part of the driver’s seat was twisted and blackened. What the hell…? She stared again, tried to piece together what she was seeing. Her car door had been torn off…
Ben disappeared from view then returned to her garage.
“The alley is clear. No one was injured and there appears to be no other damage to your or other property. Just the car.”
It was then that she realized what he was saying. Her car had been damaged by an explosion—a bomb. The damage was limited only to her car. No one else was in the alley so no injuries.
Someone had put a bomb in her car.
Her knees buckled.
His hand caught her by the arm before she crumpled. He pulled her close. “Everything is all right. I’ll call Detective Shelton.”
But it wasn’t all right.
That bomb hadn’t been about scaring her or sending a message.
Someone had tried to kill her.
3:20 p.m.
Ben split his attention between the bevy of uniformed personnel in the alley and the garage where Brenda waited. She had asked to go into the house, but he didn’t want her out of his sight. And one of them had to talk to Shelton.
At this point, it was fairly clear that the small bomb had been placed just beneath the driver’s-side door.
The device had been activated by the short-range radio transmitter in the key fob.
The only reason it hadn’t been activated when Brenda moved the car was because the door had been unlocked, so there had been no reason for the transmission.
She hadn’t locked the vehicle when she parked in the alley, but Ben hadn’t known this.
Most vehicles locked automatically after a few minutes once the driver walked away with the fob.
But Brenda had turned off that option to ensure her daughter could get out if for any reason she was ever left in the car.
When Ben went to move the car he had hit the unlock button on the fob out of habit.
Thank God he had.
Shelton’s people insisted they had checked her car when they went over the garage, which, assuming they had been thorough in their search, meant the bomb had been added at some point since that time. Neither he nor Brenda had used her car since her return from Los Angeles, so that was possible.
The device wasn’t a complex one. Based on what was left of the small case, a magnet had held it to the bottom of the vehicle. There would hopefully be more information available once the lab had finished its work.
Ben wasn’t particularly surprised by the act.
Cartels often sent enforcers or sicarios—hit men—to do their dirty work.
To scare with threatening messages, to injure or kill.
It wasn’t unusual, but what this level of enforcement suggested was the significance of the item or items they were looking for.
Clearly the cartel had deemed the loss particularly important, and they were growing impatient for its return.
This was something he would very much have liked to know before the explosion, but he knew now. Thankfully no one had been hurt.
When Detective Shelton started for the garage, Ben joined him. Brenda watched the two of them approach, dread evident in her posture. It was difficult to be left with the fallout when you had no idea what it related to.
“We’re taking your car in,” Shelton advised Brenda. “I think it’s pointless to take prints from the garage again, but we will go over the car thoroughly. If we find anything we’ll let you know.”
Brenda nodded her understanding. “Should I call my insurance company?”
She had chosen not to call about the intruder since nothing had appeared to be missing and none of the windows or doors in her home were damaged by the invasion.
“Yes,” Shelton replied. “Although I can’t give you a firm release date, it’s best to advise them of the situation and go with whatever they suggest.”
Brenda hugged herself. “They’ll probably cancel on me. I think it’s the same insurance company as Scott used for the firm.”
It happened. Like any other business, insurance companies had a degree of risk they were willing to assume and anything beyond that point was unacceptable. Ben hoped for her sake it didn’t become an issue. She was dealing with enough already.
Shelton pointed to the cleared garage floor with the pen in his hand. “You put everything away.”
“I needed to be doing something.” Brenda drew in a big breath. “This escalating situation has me on edge, and I can’t just sit around waiting to hear from you.”
“It’s not easy, I’m sure.” The detective’s brow furrowed. “Did you find anything that might have some bearing on the case?”
“I would have called you about it if I had,” Brenda tossed back. “I’m aware of my legal obligations, Detective. No one wants this resolved more than I do.”
Ben bit back a grin. “If,” he said to the detective, “you don’t need us for anything else, we’ll go inside where Ms. Devers can feel safer.”
Shelton hitched his head back in acknowledgment. “If I have any further questions I’ll knock on your door.”
“Is it all right,” Ben ventured, “if we close up and lock the garage, or do you still need access?”
“Sure. Sure.” Shelton glanced around. “We don’t need to be in here for anything else.”
“Thank you,” Brenda said. “I do appreciate all you’re doing to find the person or persons responsible for…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what to call it.”
“It’s a difficult situation,” the older man agreed. “When these things happen to the family of a criminal suspect, it’s never easy or pretty.”
Brenda’s arms visibly tightened around her. “I can see that.”
“As I said, I’ll call if we find anything.” Shelton turned and walked out of the garage.
Ben hit the button next to the walk-through door, closing the overhead one. While it lowered, he checked the garage’s one window, ensuring it was secure.
“We can start on the house now, if you’d like.” He returned to the door where Brenda waited.
“Okay.” She walked out into the small backyard of her home, rubbed at her crossed arms as if she were cold. “I could make sandwiches or call for something to be delivered.”
“Whatever you decide works for me.” He locked the door they had exited. “I’ll have another look around outside before coming in.”
They had done this already, but like the garage and house, a second look never hurt. Obviously, it could save a life.
“Sure.” She faked a smile and then headed into the house.
Ben called Victoria and provided an update.
“This is most unsettling,” Victoria agreed. “It’s the things you don’t see coming that pose the highest risk.”
Ben considered what he wanted to say next.
His gaze lingered on the kitchen window in hopes of getting a glimpse of Brenda.
This situation was bent in a direction that felt wrong to him.
Off somehow. He simply hadn’t figured out what that oddity was.
But it was there…waiting for him to grab hold of it.
“I’m not convinced the threats so far have been as deadly as I would expect from the cartel.
” He was familiar with the history of the one with whom Devers had gotten involved.
They weren’t known for going soft on a target—even an innocent target.
“There’s either something else going on here or they have an ace in the hole we don’t know about yet. ”
“We’ll keep pressing forward with our research on this end,” Victoria assured him. “Stay sharp, Ben. Like you, I’m concerned this is just the prelude to something far more dangerous.”
Ben ended the call and started his search of the small plot of grass and shrubs around the Devers home. He wasn’t sure he would find anything, but he could use the time to get his thoughts straight. This was something else he had started to recognize.
Most assigned to monitor the activities of another would confess to a growing bond—even if only forming on the part of the observer. But that bond he felt with Brenda was growing far too quickly for comfort.
It was a fine and dangerous line playing the part of protector.
Dangerous for her safety, without doubt, and dangerous to him in ways he hadn’t expected.