Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,44

was tempted to stay in the store any longer was because her stomach was still fluttering from her scare—her unreasonable, totally unfounded scare when a tourist had looked through the window.

Ridiculous.

It didn’t take a degree in psychology to realize she needed to face her fears to make them go away. She needed to step back outside, rejoin the world and prove to herself that no one was waiting to grab her and hold a knife to her side.

She forced a smile and shook her head. “Your store is lovely, but I’m not really looking for figurines. Thank you for your time.”

Disappointment clouded the woman’s eyes but she gave Darby a warm smile. “Of course, dear. There are plenty more shops around here. I’m sure you’ll find something that suits you.”

Darby adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, and stepped outside.

* * *

WITH CAPTAIN BURESH recuperating at home, and Jake on administrative leave, Rafe was stuck in Buresh’s office...on a Sunday. All those times he’d been jealous because the captain always chose Jake to fill in when he was out now seemed pathetic. Rafe’s desire to have his captain’s job someday had died a quick death after spending the past two days catching up on paperwork.

He’d rather defuse a bomb than fill out one more report, or listen to one more complaint from someone about something he couldn’t do anything about anyway.

The door to Buresh’s office opened and Rafe looked up, hoping for something, anything, more interesting than filling out forms. His hope withered away when one of the weekend shift officers walked inside with an armload of mail and dropped it onto the corner of the desk.

“Gee, thanks. Just what I need. More work.” Rafe frowned. “I didn’t think anyone delivered mail on Sundays.”

“Most of it’s interoffice stuff that just got sorted. There was one item that came by special courier. I guess they couldn’t wait until a weekday. Watch out for all those sharp edges. Wouldn’t want you to bleed to death from a paper cut.” The officer laughed and headed toward the door.

A tingling sensation had the hairs standing up on the back of Rafe’s neck. There was no reason to worry, but he was suddenly feeling a sense of déjà vu. “Wait a minute. You said a special courier dropped something off. Which envelope?”

The officer turned, riffled through the stack, then pulled out a large envelope that was bulging at one end.

A sinking feeling slammed through Rafe’s gut as he stared at the familiar block lettering.

No, this wasn’t possible.

“Something wrong, Detective Morgan? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have.” Rafe dug into his suit jacket pocket for one of the pairs of latex gloves he always carried. He tugged them on and gingerly picked up the envelope. It had to have been mailed before the bomber was killed. He looked at the date stamped on the seal from the courier service.

The package was mailed today.

Rafe swallowed hard, adrenaline kicking in, tightening his chest.

The officer sat down on the edge of the desk, watching Rafe gently work the end of the envelope open. Rafe peered into the envelope.

No, it couldn’t be.

He pulled out the timer.

His pulse roared in his ears. He pushed away from the desk and stood. The chair slammed back against the wall. Rafe shoved his hand in the envelope and pulled out the picture.

“Hey,” the officer said, leaning across the desk. “Isn’t that—”

“Yes, it is.” Rafe grabbed his phone out of his pocket and bolted for the door. “Tell dispatch to issue a code red,” he called back over his shoulder. “All hands on deck.”

He ran through the outer office, dialing as he went.

* * *

SOMEONE BRUSHED AGAINST Darby’s arm. She whirled around, her hand clutched to her throat.

The woman who’d touched her stopped in the middle of St. George Street, eyes wide, her face flushing the light pink of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to push you.”

She was obviously a tourist, wearing a T-shirt with a picture of Castillo de San Marcos, the Spanish fort a couple of blocks away. She was holding hands with the man beside her, and both of them were staring at Darby as if she’d lost her mind.

Darby forced a smile to her lips. “No problem. Sorry. I’m a little...jumpy today. Um, enjoy your stay in St. Augustine.”

The woman’s expression mellowed into an eager smile. “Oh, we are. I just love all these little shops. And we took a horse-and-buggy ride yesterday. So much fun.” She smiled

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