Slow Burn_ A Novel Part 31

He seemed nervous, and smiling at him didn't put him at ease. She finally figured out why he was so jumpy. Dylan was making him apprehensive. Terrance was watching him out of the corner of his eye, acting like he expected Dylan to grab him.

"I'd like to see the conference room," Dylan said.

Terrance led the way up the stairs and down a long hallway on the right. The conference room was one door down from Anderson's office.

"I was just putting name cards in front of each chair," Terrance said.

"Would you mind if I worked in here?" Kate asked. "If I could plug in my computer . . ."

"Yes, of course." He pulled the chair out at the head of the table and showed her where the outlet was located.

Dylan left the door open and continued down to the end of the hallway. To the left was an alcove with a fire door wired to the alarm. A small red light was blinking, indicating the system was on. A wide metal bar crossed the door in the center. Dylan a.s.sumed that on the other side of the door were fire escape stairs leading to the ground.

The carpeted back staircase was to his right. He descended a flight to the first floor where a guard was stationed in front of the exit that led to the parking lot. Dylan showed him his identification and talked to him a few minutes before going back up.

Satisfied with security, he returned to Kate, who had her laptop set up on the conference room table and was answering e-mail. When they heard someone shouting Dylan's name, his hand immediately went to his gun, and he took a protective step toward her.

Dylan recognized the voice when his name was shouted again, and he relaxed. A couple of seconds later Nate came running into the room. His face was flushed and he was smiling.

"It's over," he announced jubilantly.

"Over?" Kate asked. "Really over?"

"That's right. You two can start breathing easy again and get on with your lives. The case is closed," he added. "Or will be," he qualified. "As soon as all the paperwork is done."

"Tell me," Dylan demanded.

Nate was enjoying the moment. His eyes lit up with excitement. "Roger MacKenna. Just as I thought. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was behind it all. After seeing that video, I was sure he was the number one suspect. I had requested a search warrant, but now that's not necessary. We have all the proof we need. Roger was quite the busy little planner. He had help, of course."

"Jackman."

"Yes," he confirmed. "And Jackman had all the connections to get the job done. The loan shark didn't really have a choice. He had to help Roger. It was the only way he would ever see the money Roger owed him."

"How did you ever get Roger to confess?" she asked. "He doesn't seem the type to cooperate with the police."

"He didn't confess. He killed himself."

She hadn't expected to hear that. Stunned, she said, "He what?"

"Killed himself," he repeated. He looked at Dylan as he continued. "We had a tail on him, but our guy didn't hear the gunshot. Roger lived in a high-rise," he explained. "Our detective was in a parked car out front, and he'd watched him go inside. He told me he heard about it on the scanner. A woman called, said she heard a gunshot. He went inside then and found Roger on the floor. One head shot," he added. "He also found incriminating evidence and lots of it. He didn't touch anything, of course. He said it was all sitting out on the table in plain sight. I think Roger wanted the police to know that Jackman was involved. I can't wait to get over there and have a look."

"Is Crime Scene there yet?" Dylan asked.

"They're on their way. Do you want to meet me over there? His apartment is only about a mile from here. Or I could drop you off. I've got to check in with Savannah PD first. Then I'll head over."

"Yeah, I want to see it, and I don't want anything moved until I get there. Make that happen."

Nate smiled. "FBI said the same thing. CSU will have first priority. The sooner we get over there, the better."

"Yeah, okay. Where did Roger get the gun?"

"I don't know yet."

"He had a gun when he came to the reading of the will," Kate said. "Remember?"

"The police wouldn't have given it back to him," Nate said. "Roger had just made bail. He was carrying a concealed weapon without a permit."

"Did he tell the police where he got that gun?"

"Yes," he answered. "He said Ewan gave it to him and that Ewan had bought it on the street."

"Where's Ewan now?"

"He's voluntarily turning himself in. He's on his way to the police station, no doubt with an attorney ready to bail him out. That's why I'm headed there now. He'll find out about Roger when he gets there. I checked on Bryce's whereabouts, too. He'll never hear about Roger. He's slipping in and out of consciousness. His wife is by his side and will stay until the bitter end, which is going to be real soon."

"What about Jackman?"

"FBI in Las Vegas picked him up for questioning. He's their problem now." Nate started toward the door as he said, "I'll see you over there."

"It's really over, isn't it? I still can't believe it," Kate said. Dylan was nodding, but she didn't think he was paying attention. "Is something wrong?"

"No, but I want those policemen to stay until you've signed those papers."

He walked downstairs with Nate, and together they checked in with the officers on duty, who a.s.sured them they would stay as long as Kate was in the building.

When Dylan came back into the conference room, she said, "I thought you wanted to look at the evidence."

"Yeah, I do."

"Go," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but-"

"Go on, and shut the door behind you. I'm not going anywhere."

Chapter Thirty-four.

Kate hadn't quite absorbed the news yet. The man who tried to kill her was dead, and his accomplice was in custody. And here she sat diligently answering her e-mail as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

She would probably fall apart tonight when she was all alone. Dylan could very well be on his way back to Boston by then. She felt an instant rush of panic and became angry with herself. Why should she be upset? She'd always known he was going to leave. No surprise there. And she would get through it just like everything else in her life that had been painful.

But Dylan wouldn't go until tomorrow, she decided. He'd drive her back to Silver Springs, spend the night with her, and early the next morning while she was sound asleep, he'd leave.

She knew he cared about her. It had taken a considerable amount of coaxing just to get him to leave her alone to work on her computer while he went to the crime scene with Nate. He'd even suggested she go with him.

She realized she wasn't going to get any work done if she continued to think about Dylan. He'd only just left, and she was already missing him.

She forced herself to go back to work. She'd answered several more e-mails before she was interrupted by Anderson's a.s.sistant. He timidly knocked on the door and stepped inside.

"Miss MacKenna, there's a phone call for you on line one. The gentleman wouldn't give me his name, but he insisted he was a friend."

Who would be calling her at the law office? The only people who knew where she was had her cell phone number.

"Should I tell him you're unavailable?"

"No, I'll take the call," she said.

Terrance picked up the phone from the credenza and placed it on the corner of the table. "Would you like me to help you with anything? Get you anything?"

"No, but thank you for asking."

"If you need me, I'll be in the library. Just push the intercom b.u.t.ton."

She thanked him again, and as he was pulling the door closed, she answered the phone.

"Is this Kate MacKenna?" a man asked.

She didn't recognize the caller. The voice was pleasant, though.

"Yes, it is," she said. "And who is this?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to give you my name. I want to help you," he said. "And I mean you no harm. I have information for you," he rushed on. "Will you please listen to what I have to say?"

"Yes," she replied cautiously. "I'll listen, but first, please tell me why it isn't a good idea to tell me your name."

"I'm wanted by the police," he answered. He hurried to add, "I've never killed anyone . . . at least on purpose." He laughed, and then he snorted. "Just kidding . . . really, I've never killed anyone."

Kate didn't know what to make of him, but the call was beginning to unnerve her. She glanced around. She was alone, and the conference room door was closed.

Before she could ask him why he was a wanted man, he continued. "The authorities don't know my real name, and I would prefer they never find out. Will you promise to remain calm? I want to help you, and in order to do that, you have to be able to hear what I have to say. You can't become hysterical."

"Of course I'll remain calm," she told him. "Just tell me who you are." She could hear the apprehension in her own voice.

He laughed. "Nice try. I won't be giving you my name. But I'll tell you what I will do; I'll give you the name the police call me."

"And what's that?"

"The Florist."

Kate nearly dropped the phone. Her immediate response was disbelief. "That's not funny . . . I don't believe . . . why would . . ."

"Now, you promised to stay calm . . ."

Kate looked at the closed door again, willing it to open and Terrance-anyone-to walk in so she could signal him. Maybe someone could trace the call.

"This is a twisted prank," she said.

"It is not a prank," he insisted. "I'd never prank you. I am am called the Florist, and I do want to help you." called the Florist, and I do want to help you."

"Help me? If you are who you say you are, your bombs have nearly killed me twice." She pressed the intercom b.u.t.ton hoping that someone would hear the conversation, but the phone would not allow her to access the intercom as long as she was on the line.

"I didn't try to kill you," he said, exasperated. "I only made the explosives."

"This is crazy," she said.

"You need to hear what I have to say." He didn't sound crazy. He sounded reasonable. Was he going to offer her an apology?

"I'll listen. Start explaining."

"I like blowing things up."

Okay, so he was crazy after all. She thought she should say something in response. "Do you want to tell me why?" If she could keep him on the line, she might be able to summon help.

"Why isn't relevant," he said. "I've made quite a nice income. I bought a big-screen TV with surround sound last month. You wouldn't believe how it makes the Nature Channel come alive . . . but I digress. Truth is, I enjoy the extra income, and it allows me to do something I love doing."

"Blowing things up."

"I like building explosives, and in the past I never let anyone else near them. Until recently. A friend of a friend of a friend . . . you know how it goes. I was lured by the money, and I was hoodwinked. I was told the explosives would be used in the desert. There was a lot of talk about caves and underground facilities. Oh, yes, I was spun an elaborate lie, and I believed it. I was extremely naive and greedy.

"I took the money and went back to my day job. I didn't think another thing about it until I opened the newspaper and saw a photo of an explosion at a gallery. It made the national news. I recognized my work right away. I was outraged because I had been hoodwinked, and after I read the article about how you had narrowly escaped death, I was scared, and I felt really bad for you." He snorted again. "Really, I did . . . heh, heh . . . I thought about sending you flowers.

"I tried to get hold of my contact, but he had disappeared. Then I read about another explosion that destroyed a building and nearly killed you again. I knew then that you were the target."

She heard him take a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

"This is a dangerous business."

He was just now figuring that out? "Yes," she said.

"I've decided to quit."

"You're calling me to tell me you're retiring?" she asked suspiciously.

He didn't answer the question. "There's a gentleman who has been pursuing me for several years now. His name is Sutherland, and he works for ATF. I would appreciate it if you would call him and tell him to go home."

"Because you're retiring."

"Yes."

This was the most bizarre conversation she had ever had. "I think you you should tell him. I'm sure he would love to meet you, even if only by phone." should tell him. I'm sure he would love to meet you, even if only by phone."

"Oh, we have met, several times, in fact. He just doesn't know it."