Page 66 of Fatal Mistake
“Do you think so?”
He nodded. “Would you like more time here?”
“Maybe a few more minutes. Just in case.”
She closed her eyes and put her mind to the task, but when it became clear that she wasn’t going to remember anything to help, she opened them and suggested they leave.
As they drove away, Tara expected Cal and the team to rush back to FBI headquarters to continue working on the investigation, but instead, he lowered his car window and motioned for Kaci to join him near the car.
“Tara remembered that Keeler had a list of ten names,” Cal said. “Likely his first three victims and seven new names.”
“I don’t suppose knowing there’s a list will give you anything to go on?” Tara asked.
“It does confirm that he’s planning more bombs, specifically three of them.” Kaci leaned down to the window. “Not news any of us wants to hear, but it’s true.”
“And you can’t do anything?” Tara asked.
“Barring finding a connection between Keeler and the Muslim community, we have nowhere to go.”
“Let’s bring the team together at the safe house and hash it out again,” Cal suggested. “Maybe we’ll see something we’ve missed.”
Kaci nodded. “I’ll let the others know.”
She and Cal stopped at the main house to say good-bye to June, and by the time they reached the safe house, everyone except Max had gathered in the living room.
Shane and Rick sat in leather chairs, and Brynn and Kaci on the plump sofa. They were deep in discussion but immediately quieted when Tara and Cal entered the room. Cal gestured for her to have a seat on the sofa, and he leaned against the wall as he brought them up to date on their day.
“I hope you can process the necklace for me.” He handed Brynn the evidence envelope containing the necklace. “And could you follow up with jewelers in the area? We might get lucky and find the one who updated the necklace.”
“Sure.” A no-nonsense expression lodged on Brynn’s face as she turned her attention to Tara. “We’ve been talking. Now that you were able to recall more of the night at the pump house, we’d like you to try it again, here, with us.”
“You what?” Cal asked.
Shane sat forward and ignored Cal’s question to focus on Tara. “We believe if we guide you through the visit in a nonthreatening place, that you might remember even more.”
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” Cal’s words came out in a clipped tone.
Tara really didn’t want to think about the pump house again, but she desperately wanted Oren caught before he killed another woman. Besides, they had a good point. Perhaps she’d let her fear from the night keep her from remembering things at the pump house.
“If you all think it will help, I’m glad to do it,” Tara offered. “Where do I start?”
Shane smiled at her, his expression kind. “From the minute you arrived at the pump house.”
She rested her head on the back of the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. She forced herself to relax. In her mind, she called up the walk down to the pump house. She felt the coolness of the night and forced her mind ahead to the door. She pressed her hand on the cold handle, and a flash of memory played in her eyes as she flung open the door.
Her breathing intensified, but she tried to slow it.
“What are you seeing?” Shane asked. “Feeling?”
“At first, I was mad that the ancient pump was acting up. But when I saw June’s old potting table in the middle of the room, thoughts of starting seeds with her for the vegetable garden made me smile.”
She felt her lips turning up now. “Then I saw a pile of white PVC pipe on the table and was confused. My first thought was that someone was planning to fix the pump.” She shook her head. “Until I noticed the large quantity of pipe, and that it had been assembled in an odd configuration. I was just plain baffled, and I stepped over to the table. The wind caught the door and banged it shut, blocking out the exterior light, so I pulled on the string hanging above the table.”
“So you’re in the small building, the light burning bright,” Shane said, his tone captivating, as if he were in the shed with her. “What did you do next?”
She saw herself in an out-of-body kind of experience moving across the room, the PVC inches from her hands. She reached out. Stopped. “Before I could get to the pipe, I saw a stack of white bricks wrapped in cellophane. I had no idea what they were, but there was a warning label on the box.” She ran her gaze over the warning and gasped. “I read it and jumped back to think. I then remembered seeing such explosives in documents I translated for the State Department, and I panicked. Explosives. What were they doing in the pump house?” She got lost in the memories. Breathing became difficult, and she shot a look around the room.
“And then?” Shane asked, his voice comforting and quieting some of her anxiety.
