Glad they can joke about it…
“I kno
w it’s a bad timing, but I did have fun with you two before you got pulled away last night. Do you think you’ll be able to pull yourself away at some point this week, so we can try to finish our date?” I tilted my head to the side.
“I think we’ll be busy—as much as that pains me to say.” Kincaid sighed. “Why don’t we try for Saturday night? I will be cross-eyed by then if I don’t get a break.”
“I could do that.” I smiled and nodded.
“Thanks for stopping by. It really is good to see you. We just have a ton of work to do right now.” Donovan pointed at a stack of files. “We’re going through everything from the beginning—probably with similar results, but we have to keep trying.”
“Yeah.” Kincaid nodded in agreement. “Then we have to go sift through the houses that were hit last night. We couldn’t do anything this morning because the bomb squad wanted to check everything over just to be safe.”
“Do they know what caused the explosion?” My eyebrows raised with concern.
“They think the owner was storing something in the basement that was extremely flammable. Forensics aren’t back yet, but that’s what the bomb squad guy said. Fireball probably just set a regular fire and got quite a surprise. Thankfully, he hasn’t graduated to using actual bombs—yet.” Kincaid sighed and sat down behind his desk.
“Alright, I need to get back to work. I’m glad your both safe.” I nodded and hugged them both again. “Send me a message and let me know for sure about this weekend.”
“Will do.” Donovan nodded and held my hand for a second after our embrace. “Maybe we should skip the bar this time—find somewhere a little more intimate?”
“I like the sound of that.” I grinned and nodded.
I like the sound of that a lot. Things were just getting good when they got pulled away.
I headed back to the office after my visit with Kincaid and Donovan and tried to quell some of the concern that was making my stomach churn. I didn’t feel any better about the fact people close to Livingston Capital were targeted, but at least I wasn’t worried that other people in the office were immediate targets. Mr. Livingston wasn’t just wealthy, he was closing in on Bill Gates for a spot at the top of the charts for the richest people in the United States. The other guy left Livingston Capital to start his own hedge fund and while he wasn’t as rich as Mr. Livingston, he probably had enough money in the bank to make Ms. Stone nod in appreciation. They were big fish—and I was kind of glad the rest of us were minnows compared to the two of them.
At least I don’t feel like I’m in any immediate danger. I’ll keep telling myself that every time I get worried.
Donovan
A few days later
Fireball was silent after his two fires on the night of our date. Kincaid and I sent some samples to the police department since they were finally helping with forensics and waited for the FBI to show up. A couple of days later, Chief Vance got the call—but it wasn’t the one we were expecting. Homeland Security had a potential terrorist threat that they were dealing with and had a number of agents on standby to assist. Once again, Fireball just wasn’t important enough to warrant the extra attention we needed to figure out who the fuck he was. I was looking forward to the weekend, because despite all the work we were doing, I felt like we were spinning in circles. A date would be nice, especially since I was pretty sure I knew where the last one was headed before we were interrupted.
“Any word on the samples we sent over to Detective Lewis?” I walked over to Kincaid’s desk and sat down.
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “We should know something later today though. I’ll let you know.”
“I don’t know how you do this every day. I’ve been at it less than a week and I feel like my brain is fried.” I took a sip of my coffee and put it on the edge of his desk. “Caffeine isn’t helping.”
“It definitely isn’t what I had in mind when I accepted the position. I knew I would have a few tough cases, not I didn’t expect anything like this.” Kincaid sighed and looked down at his desk. “Sometimes I wonder if Chief Vance should have just asked to have a senior investigator moved here instead of giving this case to me.”
“Don’t think like that.” I reached for my coffee while shaking my head in disagreement. “He knew you would put more work into this case than some guy nearing retirement. This is your case, no matter what. We’re going to figure it out.”
“I hope so, and I hope we find something in these case files before another fucking fire—hey, I think your phone is buzzing.” Kincaid pointed over to my desk.
“Oh? Yeah, thanks.” I reached over and grabbed my phone.
It was my stepmother calling. My father had been rushed to the hospital after having chest pains. It wasn’t a heart attack, but they were keeping him overnight and there was a chance he could need surgery to repair a valve. I immediately grabbed my stuff, told Kincaid what was going on, and rushed to my car. Family came first—even if the world was burning down around me. I might not have been very close with my Dad, but I still cared about him. If something was going on and they were discussing surgery, I definitely had to be there. Luckily, he lived in upstate New York, so it wasn’t that bad of a drive once I got out of the city and hit the interstate. It was close enough that I should have visited more often, but I always seemed to have an excuse. I felt bad about that when I parked outside the hospital and walked into the emergency room.
“Abby!” I walked up to my stepmother. “How is he?”
“I’m still waiting on the doctor to come back out and talk to me.” She sighed and shook her head. “I think they’re moving him to a room now that he’s staying the night, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Fuck!” I stared at the floor and grumbled under my breath. “I’ve been telling him for years those cigarettes were going to kill him.”
“He tried to quit, but you know how he is.” She exhaled sharply. “Hey, have you heard from your sister?”