Page 107 of Fatal Mistake
“How’d the interrogations go?” Cal asked Max.
“I didn’t get much,” Max said. “Except that they know each other and met when they started working together.”
“Where?”
Max shrugged. “I have Kaci trying to find employment records right now, but it’s looking like they were involved in a cash operation, making it harder to find.”
“Okay, so cash could mean something illegal.” Cal looked away to think, his gaze passing over the bags of evidence from Dallas. “Counterfeiting is illegal.”
“Where’d that come from?” Rick asked.
Cal pulled out the switch he’d studied. “This action circuit is counterfeit. I already have analysts looking for Keeler’s source, but so far we haven’t come up with anything actionable.”
“I’ll call my contacts at Customs to see if they’ve got anyone on their radar for counterfeiting electronic parts,” Max said. “That could be a long list, though.”
“China is the main importer of these parts, but India is known for it, too,” Cal said. “With Nabijah having an Indian background, we could cull the list down to those leads.”
Max gave a firm nod and strode to the far corner of the room to make his call.
Rick tapped the x-ray on the wall. “What I don’t get is why go to all of this work for the dummy bomb? He might as well have given us a blueprint of the device.”
Cal had questioned the same thing. “I’m guessing he thinks I’m dumb enough to believe this is the entire device, but he left out a switch or two.”
“But why?”
“He thinks I’ll try to disarm June’s bomb, and he’ll end my life, too.”
“That’s right on target with his profile,” Shane said.
“Explain,” Rick said.
Shane rested a hand on the stack of photocopies. “I’ve been studying his journals where he documents his infatuation with Tara. He may not know it yet—shoot, he may never know it—but he wants her more than anything. So far, she’s been elusive, and he needs to alleviate the pain somehow, which is a logical explanation for why he’s detonating the bombs and killing women.”
Rick frowned. “I still don’t see why he’d tip his hand like this.”
“Simple.” Shane smiled. “He failed to get to Tara because Cal is protecting her. So he hates Cal, too. But, as our bomb expert, Cal’s a worthy adversary in Keeler’s mind. So he wants to show Cal how smart and skilled he is. To point out that he’s better than Cal, and he can take Tara out at any time despite Cal’s protection.” Shane faced Cal. “And maybe, as you said, let you try to disarm a device with limited knowledge and take you out along the way as well.”
Cal pondered Shane’s statement, and many things that Keeler had done now made more sense. “Then if Keeler has Tara, we’d better pray she can remind him of how he once cared for her. If not, he’ll release all of his pent-up anger on her.”
* * *
Dulles Airport area
Tara headed down a narrow walkway between large metal buildings until she found suite C, as directed by Oren. The closer she came, the faster her heart beat, pounding as if wanting to escape her chest. She rounded the corner. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she paused to listen.
The wind whispered down the path, but she heard only traffic whizzing past on the nearby freeway. She started walking again, moving ever closer to suite C. Deep in her soul, she knew she would soon feel the cool PVC of one of Oren’s bombs circling her neck.
Would she trust God then? Remain calm like June, or would fear cause her to panic?
If her perspiring palms and rapidly beating pulse were indicators, the latter was more likely. She prayed again as she continued on.
A door down the narrow alleyway opened and light flooded into the darkness.
“Hello, Tara.” Oren’s voice stabbed through the air like a bolt of fear grating on Tara’s nerves.
Her footsteps faltered for a moment, but then thoughts of the bomb circling June’s neck, of Cal perhaps in equal danger, urged Tara forward until she saw Oren. He wore the same shirt as in the Skype call, but now she could see that it hung to his knees over pants narrowing at the ankle.
He ran his hands over his clothing with a flourish. “I look a bit different than when we last met. An improvement on my Western ways, don’t you think?”
