Explosive Alliance. Susan Sleeman

others added their agreement.

      “Great,” Skyler said. “If you’ll email your schedules to me, I’ll work you in the rotation. And thanks for the help.”

      “That all?” Brady was clearly itching to get moving. Cash was surprised it had taken him this long to ask.

      Jake nodded. “We’re good to go.”

      Brady shot for the door.

      “I’ll go tell Krista and Otto they’re free to leave.” Cash headed outside before anyone tried to stop him, especially Skyler, who was coming his way. He stepped into the cold, damp air and zipped his jacket as he approached the pair.

      The scent of popcorn lingering in the air spoke of fun and enjoyment, contradicting Otto’s fatigued expression. He looked plumb worn-out and still had a long train ride.

      Cash met Otto’s gaze. “You two look like you could use a ride home instead of taking MAX.”

      “No,” Krista said.

      “That is most generous,” Otto said at the same time.

      She frowned at him. “It’s not necessary, Deputy Dixon.”

      “It’s Cash,” he said, not liking the formality of her tone for reasons he chose not to analyze. “Necessary or not, I want to help.”

      “Thank you.” Otto smiled. “We will be glad to accept your offer. Might I use the restroom before we go?”

      Cash ignored Krista’s stare and nodded. “There’s one in the restaurant.”

      “I’ll go with you.” Krista helped Otto rise and move back into the restaurant.

      Skyler eyed the pair as they strolled by. After the door closed, she joined Cash. “What’s going on?”

      “With what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

      “You and Ms. Curry know each other?”

      “No.”

      “But you find her attractive.”

      “What red-blooded male wouldn’t?” He held up a hand to stop Skyler from continuing. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to do anything about it.”

      “Please don’t be offended that I asked about this.” She took a step closer. “You haven’t been a deputy all that long, and I want to make sure you understand your role here.”

      He smiled. “You mean other than the red-blooded-male thing?”

      She frowned at him. “I’m serious here, Cash.”

      So was he. He wasn’t uncomfortable disagreeing with others on the team. That was the norm for him, but he was uncomfortable with his reason for disagreeing today. He couldn’t clear Krista from suspicion just because she was pretty and kind to her grandfather. He needed to take a step back. To focus on the evidence in front of him as he’d been taught. To remember Brady spoke the truth—suspect the person who reported the crime until they were ruled out.

      He leaned against the wall and let the night play in his memory. He saw Krista running toward him, gripping his arm, her terrified eyes looking up at Otto. “Krista’s shock and fear at the discovery of the bomb were real. I’d stake my life on that, and I find it hard to believe she had any part in this.”

      “Don’t make a rookie mistake,” Skyler warned. “There are all kinds of reasons she could be involved and still be legitimately terrified.”

      “Name one,” he challenged.

      “She could’ve been working with a partner who stashed the backpack in the stadium earlier and it was her job to retrieve and place the bomb.”

      “Otto didn’t mention seeing her with a backpack and you have to agree he reads like a straight shooter.”

      “I agree about Otto, but with his obsession with the game it’s not hard to believe that he wouldn’t notice Krista leaving her seat to retrieve the bomb.”

      “Okay, say I buy that—which I don’t—why would she bring Otto with her if she was going to plant a bomb?”

      “He makes great cover for something like this.”

      “Still, I don’t see her risking his life.”

      “Maybe she didn’t think he was at risk. Her partner could have told her there would be more time for her to get out of the stadium, but when she saw the countdown on the cell phone, she realized she couldn’t get Otto out in time.”

      “Maybe.” Cash let the idea roll around in his head.

      “Or maybe the partner said he only intended to damage the building and the bomb wouldn’t go off until after everyone left for the night. Or he might not have told her about the cell phone and only mentioned a timer. When she realized he could call to detonate the bomb at any time, she knew she couldn’t get Otto out of there in time, panicked and ran for your help.”

      “All possible, I suppose.”

      “But you don’t buy any of them.”

      He shrugged.

      “Fine.” She sounded irritated, an unusual stance for Skyler. She was their peacemaker. The one who brought people together on their team. But tonight he was seeing a different side of her. The tough investigator. “We can disagree on this as long as we’re clear that Ms. Curry is a suspect.”

      “We’re clear.” He saw Krista and Opa returning, both of them slipping into their raincoats. Cash pushed off the wall. “I promise to give them a ride, then come running home like a good little boy.”

      “Right, joke about this as you always do but remember this conversation.” Shaking her head, Skyler turned to Krista and handed her a business card. “If you think of anything else that might help, give me a call.”

      Cash escorted the pair down a ramp to ground level, where he nodded at the officer guarding the exit. Outside, the rain had let up and wispy fingers of steam rose up from the asphalt, disappearing into the dark night. Police cars, both county and city, sat in the lot. Red lights twisted into a swirly cotton candy of fog. A perimeter had been set up and officers dressed in rain gear stood sentry, holding the public at bay.

      Cash peered at Otto. “Employees park in an auxiliary lot. It’s a bit of a hike. You up for that, or do you want to wait here while I get the car?”

      Krista stared across the lot, her expression dark and unreadable. “Maybe we should wait here. We should be fine with all the cops around.”

      “Stop fussing, Liebchen.” A stubborn look claimed the old man’s face. “I am able to walk.”

      Cash didn’t want to offend Otto, so he started walking at what he hoped was a slow enough stride to be comfortable. They neared police barricades holding back media crews fairly salivating to one-up each other in their coverage. Paul Parsons from the local News Channel Four TV station was making his way to the front of the crowd. He wore a damp white shirt, and his nondescript brown hair was plastered against his head.

      Cash stifled a groan. He’d expected reporters, but he’d rather not face the overly zealous Parsons. He’d tried the patience of FRS team members recently when he’d hounded Skyler after someone tried to kill her. Parsons had made it clear in his reports that he could do a better job in the investigation than the sheriff’s department or even better than Skyler’s FBI agent fiancé.

      But worse, in Cash’s opinion, was the way the man had harassed Skyler when she was injured and fragile. Parsons was a bully, plain and simple. If he started hassling Krista or Opa, Cash would have a hard time not pushing back.

      As expected, Parsons slipped past an officer and rushed toward them, his cameraman in tow. Cash put his head down and continued moving.

      Krista quickly flipped up her hood, seeming to shrink into her coat. “Do you think he