Page 20 of Fatal Mistake
“In today’s world, no. He’s one of thousands across the country committed to Islamic groups but only possessing a shallow understanding of Islam.”
“Then why join them?”
“People like Keeler are restless and feel trapped in an uneventful life. They’re disenfranchised or alienated. They long to belong to something where they’re welcomed and their grievances are validated. At the same time, they become obsessed with deadly terrorist acts carried out in the name of faith. They think committing these acts will relieve their emotional distress. No cause. Just self-serving violence.”
She sighed and twisted her hands together. At least she wasn’t snapping the rubber bands and making her wrist even redder.
“I don’t know about the acts in the name of faith,” she finally said. “But the rest of what you described sounds very much like the Oren I knew in high school.”
“So my thoughts are on target?”
She nodded and got up to stare over the balcony. “You’ve never told me how Oren killed them. I mean, I know he used bombs, but you didn’t share any details. Or did you on the phone that night? I can’t remember.”
“No,” he replied, and wished she hadn’t chosen this topic for tonight.
She’d said she’d only heard about one woman killed by Keeler since she’d left D.C., meaning she didn’t know about today’s bombing. He would have to tell her about that and share the details of other bombs at some point, but he didn’t want to mention it tonight and spook her into taking off again.
“Maybe that should wait,” he suggested. “Until later.”
She spun so quickly, if she’d been an attacker, he couldn’t have reacted fast enough, and as a former SEAL, he moved lightning fast.
“Please stop trying to control every little thing. My ex was a master at pushing me around, and I won’t stand for it.” Barely contained anger vibrated in her voice.
Cal was hot and tired, and if she continued to argue with him he might snap, but June had told him about the jerk Tara had split with, and Cal didn’t want to add to her distress, so he held his frustration in check for now.
“We’ll talk about it another day.” He forced out a smile to make peace with her. “I promise.”
“I need the information tonight to make my decision,” she insisted, sending him over the edge.
“Okay, fine. You know best. You want to know about the bombs? You got it.” He snapped his phone from his belt clip with more force than necessary and navigated to his photos.
Despite his irritation, he kept the device at an angle to prevent her from seeing horrific pictures from bomb scenes and photos of the actual device Keeler had reconstructed.
He paused at a sketch he’d drawn of the bomb minus Keeler’s skull and crossbones and held out his phone. “His devices are made of white PVC. Do you remember seeing something like this at the pump house?”
She shook her head. “I wish I could remember, but nothing comes to mind. What is it?”
“It’s called a necklace bomb because it’s placed around the victim’s neck.”
Her eyes flashed wide exactly like he expected would happen when she learned of the horror behind Keeler’s bomb choice.
“The explosives are in the pipe?”
He nodded. “He fastens it around their neck and the device has a motion switch inside so the woman can’t move without setting off the bomb. He then leaves and detonates it from a remote location so he doesn’t get hurt.”
“It…oh my…oh…the bomb must blow—”
“It does,” he interrupted before she spoke aloud words that would make the situation even more unpalatable for her.
She blinked hard. “And that’s what Oren is doing?”
Cal nodded and waited for her reaction. She didn’t lash out, cry, or make any noise, for that matter. She nodded and went pale.
“It’s worse than I thought,” she whispered, her fingers going for a rubber band and pulling hard. “I can’t believe someone I know is capable of doing something so terrible.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, her finger snapping the band over and over. He reached out and held her hand so she couldn’t release the rubber band.
Her eyes flashed open, and she jerked her hand free. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I need something to help me handle my stress. But then you probably think I’m foolish and the rubber bands are a big waste of time.”
