Page 7 of Fatal Mistake
Tara stirred and moaned.
“No!” She shot upright, her eyes wild and searching. She locked gazes with him, then collapsed back.
He approached her bed.
“Do you need me to get the nurse, Tara…Ms. Parrish?” From her call and rescue, he’d come to think of her as Tara, but as a law enforcement officer, he needed to keep things professional and wait for her to suggest he call her Tara. Even then, he shouldn’t do so, as he couldn’t let her suffering distract him from his purpose.
“No, I…” She bit her lip, then took in several deep breaths and firmed her shoulders with a resolve he didn’t expect. “Unless my memories are wrong, you’re the agent I spoke to on the phone.”
“Agent Cal Riggins.” He flashed his credentials, then held out his hand.
She slipped her slender fingers into his, and he was surprised to find them warm. “I’m Tara Parrish, but then you already know that. Thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t come when you did—”
“Let’s not go there, okay?” He smiled as much for himself as her. Three women had already lost their lives from Keeler’s bombs and Cal didn’t want to think about how close another woman had come to dying on his watch. “Are you up for answering a few questions, Ms. Parrish?”
“Tara, it’s Tara.”
“And you can call me Cal.” Now where had that come from when only a moment ago he’d vowed to keep things professional?
Her brows knitted in worry. “Do you really think Oren is the Lone Wolf? That he’s actually killing for ISIS?”
“My team and I have spent the last few hours researching him, and we’re certain he’s the Lone Wolf. Whether he’s motivated by his misguided beliefs or not has yet to be determined.”
“But all the news reports about him mention ISIS.”
“News reports can be inaccurate, but I can’t go into details.” He wished he could share more with her so she better understood the sense of urgency he had in finding Keeler, but Cal's team had just begun a comprehensive background investigation on her and would hardly share sensitive information until she was fully vetted. Maybe not even then.
They kept many investigative details private. Details like the fact that Keeler used necklace bombs and drew a skull and crossbones on the front of his devices. At first they’d thought the common symbol of death was meaningless, but the literal translation of the symbol told another story. The X shape of the skull and crossbones was often interpreted as man being wrong about the truth and therefore he died. ISIS believed that anyone who didn’t hold their beliefs should die. A perfect symbol for Keeler’s cleansing.
Tara closed her eyes and sighed. “Oren and I were once such good friends. I didn’t think anything could ever come between us.”
Had she sighed because she’d learned a friend was a bomber, or because she was still involved with Keeler and was lamenting the guy choosing to turn on her and shoot her?
It sent Cal’s gut churning to think this woman lying in front of him could be helping Keeler, but until their background check on her was complete, he had to at least consider the possibility. “Tell me more about your friendship with Keeler.”
She pressed the remote to raise her bed, her face contorting in pain as the frame groaned upward. “There’s not much to tell. I think I mentioned on the phone that we grew up next door to each other. My parents owned a farm until they died in a car crash. I was only thirteen, so I went to live with my aunt June. Oren’s family farm was located between June’s and my parents’ place.”
Cal grabbed a chair and slid it over to the bed. “But the Keelers lost that property to foreclosure about seven months ago.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “Your research, right? Did you learn anything else that I should know?”
“I’m afraid I can’t share details of my investigation.”
“I understand.” She ran a hand over her face, and he doubted that she could begin to understand the complexity of this investigation. “This is all so surreal. My friendship with Oren might have ended in junior high, but still, how could…I mean…he…I can’t believe he shot me. I just can’t.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Last time?” She peered up at the ceiling. “In January, I guess. At June’s place. Before that, I hadn’t seen him since his mother’s funeral. We both lost our mothers in a car crash, so I reached out to him. But he didn’t want to talk.”
“You also mentioned on the phone about his conversion to the Islamic faith. Did his family convert, too?”
“No. No.” She shook her head hard, the wayward strands of hair settling in place on her shoulders. “He did that all on his own, and his parents didn’t support the change.”
“Do you have any idea why he converted?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it was timing more than anything. Our freshman year, kids were starting to date, and I think he felt left out.” Her eyes narrowed. “I imagine by now you’ve seen a picture of him.”
Cal nodded.
