Flashback by Justine Davis (reading e books .TXT) 📗

them from moving to stationary targets, the vehicle had been a bus big enough to absorb more of the impact of the blast than a car would have.

If she and Justin had left a minute earlier or later, the shocked bystanders might be waiting for the coroner’s wagon to pick up two dead federal agents and more.

“Are you all right?”

She turned to look at the young woman in the paramedic uniform who had come up beside her.

“I believe so,” she said. Now that she thought about it, she felt a few twinges, but only minor ones, and a couple sore spots she guessed would become bruises. “My eyes and throat are the worst.”

“Come along, then, and we’ll rinse you out. And there are some people who’d like to thank you.”

“What?”

“You are our heroine, aren’t you? They kept talking about the redhead who went into the fire.”

“Oh. Well. Somebody had to.”

“Not everyone would.”

The woman—her name badge read Tanya Arnold-gestured at her to sit on the back bumper of the medic van.

“Look,” she said, feeling the need to explain as the woman got out some bottles and sterile bandages, “I’m trained. FBI. It’s what I do.”

“I know. The other agent told us. But still, it was a very courageous thing to do. And because of you, a man who could have died is going home to his family, and a young mother still has hers.”

“The child?” Alex asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask.”

“You’ve been busy,” the young woman said with a grin. “And yes, the little girl’s going to be all right. Thanks to you. Now hold still.”

The saline the medic used to rinse out her eyes felt cool and clean and welcome. Gentle hands patted at her cheeks, blotting at the overflow.

“What about Justin? The agent?”

“He’s going to be all right, too, although we’re going to transport him for a CT scan, just to be sure. He was close to the explosion in a confined space, and we don’t want to miss a possible concussion.”

She nodded, glad they were being careful. “How are the rest of the passengers?”

“Some fairly serious injuries, some minor. But nobody was killed outright, and in a situation like this, that’s good news.”

Alex nodded. Her vision had now cleared. She could see the crowds that had gathered around the perimeter, behind the yellow tape that was ubiquitous at such crime scenes. Some of those gathered were obviously passersby of the type unable to actually pass by such an event. But many of the others were people who, judging by their uniforms and golf attire, had been drawn out of the club by the explosion or the ensuing commotion.

Including, she noticed as she scanned the crowd, the senator’s foursome.

Threesome, she corrected herself with interest.

The three men Rankin had been playing with were there among the others, peering at the still-smoldering bus with obvious grim fascination. The only one missing was Rankin. Alex could only think of one reason for that.

He’d already known what was going to happen.

Chapter 20

Justin indeed had a concussion, albeit a mild one. He wasn’t happy when the nurse came in to tell him they were admitting him to the hospital for at least twenty-four hours.

When he protested rather crankily, she merely smiled and promised mildly to make it forty-eight if he didn’t cooperate.

Justin frowned.

Alex told him to grow up and quit giving people who were trying to help him a hard time.

Unexpectedly he grinned at her. “I like it when you get all proprietary.”

The nurse chuckled, and Alex blushed. “Ah…love,” said the nurse, teasing them both. That made Alex feel better. Obviously he was going to be okay, if they were joking with him.

“That’s enough fun,” the nurse said, “now you need to rest.”

“But—”

“Hush,” Alex said. “She’s right, so I’ll be leaving now.”

“Come back?” he said, his voice so over-the-top hopeful that she had to laugh.

“Later,” she promised. Then, in a very loud whisper, she added, “I’ll sneak you in a burger and fries.”

His grin widened. He looked at the nurse. “I love that woman,” he told her.

“I can see that,” the smiling woman in blue scrubs said.

Alex escaped before further embarrassment befell her. Why she was embarrassed she wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t used to such public declarations of love.

Especially when they haven’t really been made in private yet, she thought as she headed to the Alexandria house, a place she hadn’t seen much of lately.

She felt exhaustion hovering, but knew it was mental and emotional rather than physical, so fought it off. She pulled into the drive of the house, thinking it odd how unfamiliar it suddenly seemed to her.

She gathered up her not inconsiderable load of gear and headed inside and to the family room that had a big table and, more important, the most comfortable chair in the place.

Once there, she kicked off her shoes and unloaded her laptop and satchel and the other odds and ends she’d acquired. Then she headed for the shower and a concerted effort to rid herself of the smell of the explosion and toxic smoke. She’d managed—barely—to dodge the detectives from the local police, giving them a statement with the essentials only and her card, saying she needed to go check on her fellow agent. They’d let her go then, but she knew she’d be hearing from them again soon.

Out of the shower and feeling better, she returned to the family room and began to unload her satchel, more determined than ever that the answer was in this pile of papers and that she was damned well going to find it. This was the real reason she’d left the hospital. That was hardly the place to spread all this out for anyone to see. Otherwise she never would have left Justin.

She poured some soda water, ice-cold and soothing to her still raw throat. She set up her laptop on a side table, signed on and checked mail, found nothing that couldn’t