Point of Danger (Triple Threat #1) - Irene Hannon Page 0,4

belt. Sarge—wanting an update, no doubt.

“I have to take this.”

“No worries. I’m not going anywhere. But if I could borrow your cell after you finish your call, I’d appreciate it. I want to tell the station what’s going on, and I left my phone at my neighbor’s house.”

“Give me two minutes.”

He scanned the crowd for a small pocket of quiet. Spotted one behind an ambulance that was pulled up to the curb.

As he walked toward it, he gave Eve Reilly another once-over.

She was watching the activity inside the inner perimeter, clasping the empty water bottle in one hand, her neighbor’s key in the other. Given her calm demeanor, no one would suspect she’d found a possible bomb on her doorstep less than an hour ago.

But he’d felt the tremors in her fingers. Seen the taut cords in her neck when she swigged her water. Heard the slight breathlessness in her voice. Felt the waves of tension rolling off her.

She was putting up a brave front, but she was spooked.

Big time.

As she should be.

Maybe she was used to negative feedback, given the rancor she roused on her show.

But someone had risked a felony charge by putting that package on her porch.

And anyone who was willing to take that kind of chance wanted to do far more damage to Eve Reilly than best her in a verbal sparring match.

2

I APPRECIATE YOUR CONCERN, Doug, but I’m fine.” Eve repositioned the phone against her ear, keeping Brent in sight as she talked to the station’s program director.

“I still can’t believe someone left a bomb at your home.” Shock dulled Doug Whitney’s usual upbeat tone.

“It’s probably a fake.” Shifting away from the reporters massed behind the yellow tape who were calling out questions to every first responder within ten feet, she took a quick inventory of the tall detective.

Athletic physique. Neatly trimmed dark brown hair. Coffee-colored eyes. Powerful shoulders and broad chest beneath a tailored jacket. Authoritative posture that gave him a commanding—and reassuring—presence.

He looked like the kind of guy who would be comfortable wearing a white hat and riding into town to—

“. . . is real?”

Whoops.

She’d lost the thread of her conversation with Doug.

“Sorry.” She turned away from the distracting detective. “It’s noisy here. What did you say?”

“When will they know if the bomb is real?”

“Soon, I hope. But the detective said the odds were low.”

“A major hassle—and scare—nonetheless.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry about this, Eve.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one who throws out all those incendiary topics to the masses. Pardon the pun.”

“I’m glad you’re able to joke about this.”

“Joke may be a tad strong . . . but I am trying to take it in stride.”

“You think you’ll be up to doing your show on Monday?”

“Count on it. If whoever pulled this stunt is hoping to shut me down, they’re going to be disappointed. Unless you’re getting cold feet.”

“No. Sorry for the clichés, but intimidation raises my hackles and makes me dig in my heels.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Brent began weaving toward her through the crowd. “I have to go. By the way, the detective said he may be in touch with you to review any recent nasty communication that’s come in.”

“He better set aside a whole afternoon.”

“I already warned him.”

“I’ll alert Meg to begin putting a file together.”

“Perfect. She’s a dynamo.”

“I agree. She wasn’t the best candidate on paper, but I’m glad you convinced me to hire her. Keep me in the loop on the bomb situation.”

“You got it.” She pressed the end button.

Brent dropped back onto the bench beside her. “You didn’t have to cut your conversation short. I just wanted to let you know the press has picked up that you were the recipient of the package.”

“It was only a matter of time.”

“I’m assuming you’d prefer not to talk to them.”

“Correct. I’ll confine all public statements to my own show and social media.” She lifted the cell. “Do you mind if I make one more call? I don’t want my sister a couple of hours from here to find out about this on the news. She worries too much about me as it is.”

“Help yourself.”

“I’d also like my other sister brought up to speed . . . but it may be safer if you initiate that contact.”

His eyebrows rose. “How so?”

“She’s a County detective—on her first undercover assignment as we speak. She said she’d be unavailable for the duration, barring an emergency. I don’t want to put her at any risk, but I’d like to