True. “The feds will be all over this.”
“I know.” Her shoulders hitched and she rubbed at her arms. “I never thought I’d be grateful for their help. This is one crime scene I’m happy to turn over.”
“It’s over.” Hopefully for good, but at least for the moment.
She nodded. “We’ll have to give statements. I have all kinds of paperwork.” She swore. “And a press conference.”
“Then we’d best get at it.” He gestured for her to lead the way to the docks.
“I’m a mess,” she complained, picking a twig from her sleeve. “This sweater isn’t worth giving away.”
He reached out and pulled a leaf from her hair. “You’re beautiful.” He wanted to kiss her, to reassure himself she was safe and in one piece.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m saying it because it’s the truth.” He waited, cradling her hands in his until she finally looked at him. Her eyes went wide, then she smiled and looked away. “Your department, hell, the whole town, should throw you a parade. You’re a hero, Abby.”
“You did the hard part,” she argued.
“Don’t dodge the compliment.”
“Fine.” She took a big breath and looked out over the water one last time. “But I’m a hero with a ton of paperwork to do.”
He was damn happy that they were all alive to do that paperwork. Today had been too close.
* * *
ABBY TURNED FROM the podium and the crush of questions, letting Mayor Scott finish things up. During this press conference, she’d been more careful with her words without compromising her determination. She would not allow this nonsense to continue in her town. Having Mrs. Wilks home safe had done just the opposite of what her enemies wanted. The rescue boosted her popularity. Even if he’d wanted to, the mayor wouldn’t be able to oust her now.
It should give her comfort, but instead she worried over how things could get worse. Who might end up a victim next? She couldn’t afford to think about that here, where the cameras might capture the worry on her face. Most of the reporters were still asking questions about the man who’d driven Mrs. Wilks’s car into the bay.
They weren’t alone. She had more than a few questions for Riley O’Brien, too. Though she would be forever grateful for what he’d done, how had a construction worker turned Christmas-decorating guru known how to disarm a bomb?
The mayor deflected the hard questions and tailored his answers to suit his purposes. He’d dubbed Riley the hero of Belclare, telling everyone Riley had gone to the hospital simply as a precaution, and the mayor would be stopping there next. Yes, of course the mayor and town council would be looking into honoring Belclare’s newest hero in the coming days.
It went on and on. Abby listened enough to applaud or nod stoically in the right places. The most she would get out of this was a lesson in managing the press. At last they were done and she retreated into the station while the mayor’s team cleaned up the podium.
“Nicely done, Jensen.” Mayor Scott shook her hand, adding a pat on her shoulder.
Despite having taken a shower and changed into a clean suit, she felt weary and frustrated. The last thing she needed was a political shadow. “It was a group effort,” she replied. Right now, she wanted that group scouring security footage. Two men had attacked Mrs. Wilks, but only one was dead. She needed to find the other man to help her break up what she now felt confident was a local terrorist cell.
When the mayor was done shaking hands, she and her officers were able to get busy. Abby settled behind a spare desk, her gaze drifting over the plastic sheeting that blocked off the burned side of the building. The cleaning crew claimed they would finish today, but fresh paint and new equipment was only the first part. The emotional impact would stay with her and the department for weeks, if not longer. In her gut, she knew that was the real motivation behind the fire.
She slipped the flash drive into her computer and started another search through Filmore’s life. Who—local or otherwise—could have compelled him to set that fire?
Her gaze skimmed from her laptop screen and out across the bullpen. It took a concerted effort to resist the tug of paranoia and go back to the facts in front of her.
“Chief!” She looked up again as Gadsden waved her over. “I’ve got the wallet getting tossed at the warehouse Dumpster.”
With a fresh surge of energy, she hurried over to Gadsden. “Praise God for detail-oriented people.”
Gadsden pointed out the wallet sailing through the air.