Conard County Revenge. Rachel Lee

and experimentation to back up that effort. Plus, a great detonation system.

      Detonators weren’t exactly easy to come by, either. They had to be signed for. Permits were required. Plenty of people had legitimate reasons to get them, but they left a paper trail. Possible, of course, to make a detonator if you knew what you were doing. She was looking forward to finding out if they’d recovered any remains of the ignition device. Given the hour of the night when the bomb had exploded, a timer had to be involved. A timer or a cell phone. Curiosity began whetting her appetite for this job.

      Athletic fields spread out from the school building, large and spacious because this county had the room. Some trees lined the north and west ends of the fields, most likely as a windbreak. In the winter it was probably very stark, but now, in the late spring, it was simply relaxing and beautiful.

      Until she trained her gaze again on the scarred building. Annoyed as she had been to be pulled off the other case, that was forgotten as she looked at the new challenge. Build a case. Find a perp. Ascertain every part of the bomb that had been used here and try to trace it to someone. Excitement began to rise in her. A whole new case, entirely her own, unless she needed to send for assistance. A lot of trust from her superiors. For the first time it struck her that she’d had a kind of promotion by being sent out here to do the job herself. She’d never headed up a task force, but she was doing that now, even without the accompanying manpower here.

      Resources would be at her disposal back at the field office. Other agents would be assisting her. A new level of responsibility. She was determined not to fail.

      Both Wayne and Alex had parked nearby, and she realized they were waiting for her to exit her vehicle. Time to start earning her spurs.

      She climbed out, carrying her notebook computer and a legal pad on which to scrawl notes to herself. The computer would make taking photos easy, but she’d never mastered the art of holding the tablet in one hand and typing with the other. A few key identifiers, yes, but actual notes? She preferred to write them on paper and organize them later on the tablet.

      She also retrieved some evidence bags and some rubber gloves, stuffing her pockets with them. Best to be prepared, although right now it appeared that the local authorities had matters well in hand.

      She switched the computer on as she approached the two men, and was glad to see she was getting a wireless signal. She’d discovered quite a few dead zones on her way to Conard City. Apparently that wasn’t a problem in town.

      Summoning a smile, she reached the two men.

      “That’s my wife, Charity,” Wayne said, pointing.

      Darcy picked out a blonde woman who was probably stunning when she wasn’t wearing suspendered fireman’s pants and boots and heavy gloves. Good clothing choice for the job. Darcy’s fresh-from-the-office outfit was going to hinder her until she could change. At least she’d worn sensible black flats.

      Charity waved at them and strode toward them. “Hi,” she said, accepting a quick kiss from Wayne. “You must be Darcy Eccles.” She waved her glove, stained with soot. “I’ll shake your hand later.”

      Darcy liked her immediately. “That can wait. How’s your investigation going?”

      “Like most investigations. The cause is obvious. Finding all the pieces is a bit more difficult. We did find some slivers of PVC pipe, but at this point we can’t be sure it didn’t come from the building and not the bomb. As you can see, it was a decent blast, but not huge.”

      “Any sign of the ignition source?”

      Charity shook her head. “Agent, I’m going to let you go through all the pieces. I’ve never dealt with a bomb and I couldn’t recognize a lot of items that might be significant. We’re mapping our finds on a grid, taking photos, bagging stuff we don’t want to leave out in the elements. Mainly, we’re trying not to disturb anything. Is that good?”

      Darcy was surprised that she was being asked, then wondered why. Bombs were her area of expertise, not the arson investigator’s.

      “That’s great. I’m going to need someplace where I can lay things out and look at them. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a few pictures right now if I won’t get in your way.”

      Charity lifted the yellow tape. “Have at it. I’ve been waiting impatiently to turn this over to you. I wouldn’t have touched anything at all except the wind moves things and covers them with dust and dirt, and what if it rained?”

      Darcy smiled at her. “It sounds like you’ve done an excellent job of protecting the evidence.”

      “I hope,” said Charity. “Anything you need from me, let me know.”

      As Darcy approached the blast area, she saw that the damaged side of the building gaped open like a devouring mouth. “Any chance we can get tarps over the side of the building? After I have a chance to get up top and make sure they wouldn’t conceal anything. But not tacked to the side of the building until we’ve examined it.”

      Charity turned toward the two men. “Think so?”

      “I’m sure,” said Alex. “We have a storage room at the school still full of roofing tarps from a tornado that went through a few years ago.”

      “FEMA roofs,” Darcy said.

      Alex laughed. “I’ve heard them called that.”

      “Thanks for the tarps,” Darcy said. “We need to make sure any evidence inside is protected as well as you’ve done outside.”

      Standing near the edge of what appeared to be the blast circle, Darcy took in the damage to the cinder block wall, and the spread of debris, many of the larger pieces lying on the ground still, but carefully tucked into clear evidence bags for protection.

      “I’m glad you didn’t start gathering it up yet,” she said to Charity. “I’ll get a very clear picture this way. I’m going to walk around the perimeter and take some photos.”

      Charity nodded. “Do what you need to. Jeff and Randy and I will get back to scouring the area. We started at one edge and have been working our way slowly and carefully across so as to disturb as little as possible.”

      Darcy nodded, both impressed and pleased. Of course, as an investigator, Charity had plenty of knowledge of how to protect evidence.

      She started walking around the edge of the yellow tape, aware that Alex stayed nearby, but not concerned about it. With every step she took, she studied the ground in case something had blown farther out than the gridded area that the fire people had laid out. While they appeared to have properly designated the blast area, she’d long ago learned that some things flew a much greater distance than you’d expect. Some things that might appear innocuous when removed from all the surrounding evidence. Like a shiny building nail she’d found forty feet from the blast radius two cases ago.

      She stopped and took another photo toward the center of the blast. “Do you suppose,” she asked Alex absently, “we could organize a search of the area farther out?”

      “I would think so. I could probably get a bunch of my students...”

      She shook her head. “Sorry.”

      He sighed. “Yeah.”

      She faced him then, her heart skipping a surprised beat as she was struck again by his attractive features. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you.”

      “You don’t. But I don’t have to like it. My students are all good people, but I understand you have to figure that out for yourself. The problem is, Darcy, how are you going to form a search party if you don’t know who to trust?”

      “Uniforms,” she said shortly, then stopped. A young man stood at the edge of the no-man’s land, his hands in his pockets, his gaze intent on the work around the bombed area.

      “Who’s that?” she asked sharply.

      Alex swiveled his