Page 67 of Fatal Mistake
She forced herself to keep going. “I looked at the rest of the room. The shelves along the wall held discarded gardening and farm items, but on the end of the bench, I saw a three-ring binder. It’s black and thick. Three inches. It’s open, and I walk up to it. That’s where I saw that list of names. I know, right there in the blink of an eye, that the women listed first are the ones who died at the hands of the Lone Wolf Bomber.”
“How?” Shane asked. “How did you know these were the women who died?”
“I’d seen their names, their faces, on the news.” Tears pricked at her eyes, and she swiped them away. “I asked myself what the Lone Wolf’s things were doing there. I stared at the list to find an answer and noticed the square little letters printed on the yellow paper. Realization hit me. Oren. This is Oren’s handwriting. He’s the Lone Wolf. Oren is the bomber.” She shuddered.
“What else is in the binder?” Shane asked, his voice encouraging yet urgent.
The scene became real to her. The night. The cool breeze blowing through the open window, ruffling the edges of paper under the pipe. She moved the piping. “Maps! There are maps with big red Xs on them. All in the metro D.C. area. I can’t stop staring at them. What do they mean? Are they the locations of the exploded bombs or of the future bombs?” She sat up and peered at Cal. “Do you think the Xs point to where Oren plans to kill the other women?”
He nodded, his eyes alight with the potential lead. “If I get a map of the area, can you remember the location of the Xs well enough to mark them for us?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have much time.” She thought back to the map. “Maybe seeing an actual map will jog my memory more.”
“We could print one from the Internet,” Shane offered.
“I have a portable printer with my computer in the car.” Brynn jumped to her feet. “I’ll grab it.”
“Make it quick,” Cal said.
She nodded and hurried out the door.
Tara’s temples started pounding. She rubbed the tender skin above her ears and stifled a groan.
Cal eyed her. “I think this is enough of struggling to remember for now.”
Tara nodded, glad to have a break. She sat back and waited for Brynn to return with the computer and printer. When she did, she set them up on the dining table.
“One more thing,” Rick spoke for the first time. “We now have a good idea of the pump house items thanks to you, and you’ve given us a better understanding of the things in the house Keeler was renting. Do you know of any other places where he might hide supplies or sketches, that sort of thing?”
She thought back to their time together and one idea came to mind, but she dismissed it right away.
Rick eyed her, his intense stare digging deep. “You thought of something.”
Her idea was so far-fetched that she didn’t want to share, but she doubted Rick would give up until she did. “It’s a real long shot.”
“Tell us anyway,” he demanded.
Cal glared at Rick, his protector mode obvious in his expression and his sudden rigid posture.
Tara held up a hand to tell him she was okay. “When Oren and I were kids, we played in his family’s barn. He had a hiding place in the wall in the haymow. We kept things there that we didn’t want our parents to know about.”
“Do you think he could have continued to use the hiding spot?” Rick asked.
She shrugged and was vaguely aware of Brynn’s printer whirring in the background.
Shane sat forward. “Keeler likes to keep things. Hide them. That we know from the items you identified today. The more we see of him, the more I’m convinced he’s trapped in his past. I wouldn’t be surprised if he used this secret hiding place up until the day you discovered the pump house and gave us his identity.”
“I’ll have Max contact the new owners to get permission to visit the barn as soon as possible.” Cal planted his feet and cast an apologetic look at Tara. “Are you up for that?”
“How soon?” Tara worked hard to hide her hesitancy to visit another spot she associated with Oren, especially another visit today.
“I’ll push for first thing in the morning.”
She nodded her agreement, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t dread the visit and what they might discover.
What if they found something that exacerbated this horrible, horrible nightmare? How would she handle more bad news?
She’d deal with it, that’s what. Like she’d learned to handle whatever was thrown at her since the night at the pump house. But it wouldn’t hurt to have God on her side.
