Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (3 page)

FOUR

K
rista helped Opa find a seat in the restaurant as the First Response Squad connected tables, allowing the group to sit together.

What a team.

Six people. Calm, efficient and quick to move. Intimidating, really. Very intimidating.

Except for the EMT, Darcie. Tall and thin with auburn hair in a ponytail, Darcie's warm, motherly attributes shone through as she squatted in front of Krista and took her vital signs. Everything about Darcie exuded compassion and friendliness.

Maybe her kindness proved that this team was different from the detectives investigating Toby's murder. Would they actually be kind to her instead of falsely accusing her? Trashing her name in the media and ruining her life, leaving her no choice but to flee from Portland?

Could she be lucky enough to stumble upon decent cops who believed in someone's innocence until proven guilty?

Like their leader, Jake Marsh. Was he a good guy?

He oozed strength and seemed to analyze every step before acting. Exactly what Krista would expect from a leader. At the same time, he didn't pressure Darcie to finish her exam so they could start the questioning. A good balance for the deputies who counted on him, Krista supposed.

He talked with Brady, who she'd gathered from their chatter held the position of sniper. Solidly built, he had a carefree smile and laid-back look, but he bounced around the room like a Super Ball. The team negotiator named Archer was long, lean and intense, his gaze watchful all the time. As if he was trying to figure out what made people tick. Skyler, who was about Krista's height, stood next to him. She carried herself with a self-assurance that warned Krista to be careful around her.

And Cash? The man she tried not to look at? She didn't know what to make of him.

Over six feet with a muscular build, he had dark hair, a wide jaw and intense eyes that lightened up only when he smiled. He was a fine-looking man, there was no disputing that. One most women would jump at a chance to date. But not her. She'd had no interest in dating since she'd discovered Toby had lied to her.

Cash looked up and caught her watching him. A slow smile crept across his face, his eyes glinting with amusement as if he could read her mind. She felt her face heat up again and jerked her gaze back to Darcie.

Darcie shot a curious look at Cash, then frowned up at Krista. “Your pulse and blood pressure are good, but shock can sometimes be delayed.” She hung her stethoscope around her neck. “The others will focus on getting as much information from you as possible to have a better chance at finding the bomber. Not me. I'll keep an eye on you during the interview to be sure you're handling this okay. If at any time you need a break, ask for one.”

“I will.”

Darcie scooted over to Opa and took his pulse.

Skyler joined them and handed out bottles of water. “It's important to stay hydrated, too.”

“Thank you.” Krista's stomach was a tight knot. She couldn't imagine putting anything, even water, in it, but nerves had left her mouth dry. She took a long pull on the bottle.

“This isn't our first crisis situation so we understand what you're going through.” Skyler smiled, yet Krista could see questions lurking in her eyes.

“I'd appreciate it if you could continue monitoring Opa's medical condition.”

“Opa?” Skyler asked.

“Means grandfather in German.” Krista peered at Opa, who was greedily drinking from the bottle while Darcie strapped the blood pressure cuff on his arm. “He's been undergoing chemo treatments and—”

“And she worries too much about me.” He waved off Krista's concern. “Please don't go to any trouble for me. I dare say I am doing better than my Liebchen here.”

Krista patted his knee. “They can look after both of us.”

Darcie ripped the Velcro cuff from Opa's arm and stood. “If you start to feel dizzy or short of breath, don't try to be a hero. Tell me right away.”

Opa nodded and Darcie turned. “We're good to go, Jake.”

His clipped nod seemed to fit his no-nonsense personality. “If everyone will join us at the table, we'll get started.”

Krista helped Opa to his feet and, for once, he didn't shrug off her help but leaned heavily on her arm. Which troubled Krista more than if he'd tried to move on his own. This day was taking a toll on him, and she needed to get him home as soon as possible.

She settled him in a chair near the head of the table, deposited their jackets on another chair and sat next to him, far away from Cash Dixon. He remained standing, resting a shoulder against a window overlooking the midfield section of the stadium.

Looking out past him, she saw powerful lights illuminating the empty field. The bomb still sat high in the stands and cops swarmed around the area, probably looking for anything that could help them track the bomber. That man. That creep who'd tried to kill children. Families. Opa.

And she'd seen him. Up close and personal—could identify him.

Would he realize that and try to find her to silence her?

A shudder started at Krista's head and worked over her body. She willed away memories of the bomber's cold eyes. Willed away her fear of him coming after her and clamped her hands together under the table. Opa needed her to stay strong and get through this quickly to take him home.

She focused on Jake, who stood at the head of the table, carefully appraising her. She tried not to shrink back from the intensity of his expression. Her past experience with police officers told her he'd likely take it to mean she was hiding something so she smiled and forced herself to relax taut muscles in her shoulders.

He didn't return her smile, but sat on the corner of the table, his determined gaze never leaving her. “Go ahead and tell us what happened today. Start with your arrival at the field and really think about anything unusual you might've seen.” He turned his focus to Opa, and Krista resisted sighing with relief. “If you can add anything along the way, Mr. Schiffer, feel free to jump in.”

“Please.” He waved a hand. “Stop with this Mr. Schiffer business. It's Otto.”

“Okay, Otto.” A tight-lipped smile briefly lifted the corner of Jake's mouth, but it disappeared when he looked at Krista again. “Go ahead, Ms. Curry.”

Unlike Opa, Krista didn't ask him to call her by her first name. Formality would make it feel less personal should they fire accusations at her later. It would also continue to remind them of her last name. A name she'd had to assume after the press had vilified her. A name that should help conceal a connection to Toby and leave her past in the past.

“We didn't want to battle traffic so we arrived on the MAX train,” she said, reminding herself to stick to facts that couldn't be misconstrued and later turned against her. “We entered through Gate 2. After stopping at a water fountain to fill our cup, we went straight to our seats.”

Skyler pulled a notepad from her backpack. “Was the bomber in his seat when you arrived?”

Was he?

Krista squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force away the terror of the final moments to remember the beginning. Entering the stadium. Climbing the stairs as quickly as she could with Opa. Watching her feet so no one had the chance to get a good look at her face and recognize her. Settling into her seat. Keeping her head down—way down—until the match started.

Not something she'd tell the team eyeing her. The minute they learned she remained a suspect in a murder investigation was the minute they'd brand her a criminal and start thinking she could be involved in this incident, too.

She glanced at Opa. “I don't remember if he was there. Do you?”

“I only had eyes for my Timbers, but he must have been in his seat. I would have noticed if he arrived after us and got between me and my football game.”

“Makes sense.” Skyler flipped the page in her notebook. “What time did you arrive?”

“I didn't look at the clock.” Krista took a quick sip of water. “But I'd guess it was about ten minutes before the match started.”

“I concur,” Opa added.

Skyler jotted a note, then looked up. “What happened after you took your seats?”

Krista ran through the events in her mind and nothing except her worry of being recognized stood out. “The match started, and it was just the usual things you'd expect. Vendors. People coming and going.”

Skyler's eyes bored into Krista. “When did you first notice the man who left the backpack?”

Krista forced herself to meet Skyler's intimidating gaze. “I accidently spilled Opa's water. When he started coughing, I went down to the mezzanine to get more.”

“That's when I first saw you,” Cash said with no inflection in his tone to give away his thoughts.

She nodded as the memory of his intense study and blatant flirtation made her uneasy. She took a quick cleansing breath before she blushed again and drew attention to the attraction between them, then looked Cash straight in the eye. “Then maybe you saw me when I returned, too.”

“I saw you,” he said, and this time, she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

So the flirting continues. Great.

Despite the desire to look away, Krista kept her focus on him. “That's when I bumped into the bomber, which means you saw him, too.”

“Ah...” The flicker in his eyes turned to full-bloom amusement. “I wasn't exactly focusing on the bomber.”

Brady snorted. “I could've told you that.”

Cash crossed his arms, the taut muscles flexing. He fired a testy look at Brady.

Brady laughed. “Hey, man, it would've been great if you'd seen the guy, but no one blames you for looking at Krista instead of an ugly old bomber.”

Chuckles traveled around the table but did nothing to alleviate Krista's tension.

Skyler was the only team member who didn't seem amused. “You bumped into the bomber?”

Krista nodded. “He was leaving as I was returning from the water fountain. I noticed he'd left his backpack, but when I tried to tell him, he ignored me and kept going. So I stepped in his path to stop him. He stared at me for a minute, then brushed past me.”

“Why didn't you tell me, Liebchen?” Opa asked, sounding hurt.

“I thought he was just a rude man, and I love you, Opa, but I can't tell you about every rude man I encounter.” She gave Cash a pointed look. “I figured he was headed to the bathroom and would come back for his pack later, so I took my seat. After he didn't return in fifteen minutes, I looked in the pack. I saw the bomb and remembered Deputy Dixon. I went to tell him about it. He agreed to look at the backpack.”

Cash pushed off the window and planted his feet. “That's when the other woman saw the bomb and her warning sent everyone into panic mode. Krista wanted to go after Otto, but she agreed to let me go instead. I scoped out the bomb and rendered it safe.”

Skyler's pen hovered over her notebook as she stared at Krista. “Now would be a good time to give us a physical description of the bomber.”

Images of the creep slunk through her mind. Her hands trembled. She clenched them harder while dredging up the nerve to speak of him.

“Are you all right, Ms. Curry?” Darcie asked.

No.
She doubted she'd be all right for a very long time. But she wanted this monster caught, so she forced herself back to the moment in the aisle. “He's Caucasian. Maybe six feet. Thin. I'd say in his late twenties. He wore jeans and a green Timbers sweatshirt with the hood up. I saw a bit of black hair on his forehead. The rest was hidden. His face is long with a pointed chin. His eyes are grayish blue.” Memories of the hatred in his eyes sent a cold chill through her body. “His eyes were mean. Extremely mean.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should've known he planned to kill people...all of us. If I had done more to stop him, he might not be free to try again.”

“Don't blame yourself, Liebchen.” Opa's papery-soft hand settled over hers and she clung to him. “You couldn't have known.”

“It sounds like you saw him well enough to help our sketch artist render an accurate drawing,” Skyler said. “Are you willing to meet with him?”

Krista nodded. “I'll never forget his face. Never.”

“I'll set something up for tomorrow. Is there a time that's best for you?”

“I teach preschool and the kids need me there. I have two sessions a day. I start at seven and get off at four.”

Skyler frowned. “I'd rather not wait an entire day. What about a lunch break? Could we do it then?”

“Yes, if your artist comes to the preschool at noon.”

“I'll make sure it happens.” Skyler pulled her gaze from Krista for the first time since the questioning had begun. “Anyone else have questions?”

Brady looked right at Krista, not the least bit uncomfortable pinning her with a hard stare. “We wouldn't be doing our jobs if we didn't at least ask Ms. Curry if she's involved in this.”

Here it comes. The accusations.

Opa grasped his chest. “Och, not my Krista. She'd never do a thing like this. Don't you have security cameras that caught our arrival? If so, you can see for yourself that she carried no backpack.”

“To get through security she would have had to stow the pack with the bomb in advance,” Jake said.

She crossed her arms. “How could I have gotten materials in here? I have no access.”

“But a friend might.” Skyler watched Krista carefully, measuring, weighing.

“I just returned to Portland two weeks ago. After being gone for four years, I know few people in town, let alone someone who works here.”

Skyler didn't seem fazed by Krista's protests. “You were in a premier seating area. Seats like that are hard to come by. How did you get tickets to such an area if you've just arrived in town?”

“Opa's friend Erwin gave them to us. He has season tickets.” Krista hated that she sounded defensive when she was telling the truth. “We did nothing wrong.”