Page 141 of Crash Course
Not something she could deal with at the moment. She let out a breath and pushed her thoughts to more practical matters.
"Where’s my car?"
"The cops said they’d have it towed. Want me to call them?"
"No. I’m sure they’ll let me know. Did you see it? How bad is it?"
His lack of response or body language gave her the answer.
"That bad, huh?"
He reached for her hand, tangled his fingers with hers. "I’m sorry. I didn’t get close enough to see the interior. From the interior fire, guessing it’s not good."
"Well, that sucks. I love that car."
"I know. Good news is you can get another one."
True. She’d custom-ordered the first one, she’d custom-order the second.
"How about your truck?"
"Not sure. It didn’t look too bad. I got out of there before the crime scene guys were done. I’m not worried about it."
"Oh.Jesus."
At the sound of her father’s voice, Cilla did that inching thing again with her head, peering left and trying not to send the room spinning.
Gaze glued to her, Dad stepped into the room.
Still holding her hand, Cruz stood, clearly ready for whatever might occur in the next minute. Cilla’s pulse kicked up and she squeezed Cruz’s hand, letting him know she was A-okay.
For now, anyway.
"Dad," she said, "you didn’t need to come. Everything is under control."
He rushed to the bedside, opposite Cruz. "Sweetheart." He gripped the handrail. "I’m so sorry." He shook his head. "What happened?"
"Car blew up," Cruz blurted, his tone carrying an icy edge. "Interesting how that happens after your buddy Paul threatened her."
Dad’s head snapped back, and a horrified, open-mouthed gawk took over his face. "You thinkPauldid this? That’s ridiculous."
"Is it?" Cilla said. "Cruz is right. Paul is an executive at your company. If you remember, I helped you renegotiate his compensation package. He has certain incentives based on profitability. My digging around about forever chemicals could impede that."
"Cilla! You can’t accuse the man with no proof."
Couldn’t she? "Please, Dad. You of all people know how money changes things."
He stared at her for a few seconds until his gaze dipped to the bandage covering her face. "What happened to your face?"
"Flying debris," Cruz said. "Probably a hunk of glass when the windows blew out. She wouldn’t know, she was unconscious." He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Dad. "I saw it, though. The way that car came apart. From what I hear, the cops think it was a pipe bomb." He pointed to Cilla’s face. "This isnothingcompared to what could have happened. She could have been inside that car."
Dad gave him his hard-nosed mutinous face. "What time did this happen?"
Cilla rested her head back. They were talking about her car being blown to bits and her father wanted to know timing? "Around six-thirty, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"A lot," Dad said. "Think about it. You like routine. You left for work today earlier than normal."
Cruz turned to her. "Who knows your schedule? The cops are going to ask you, so you might as well think about it."
