Special Agent. Valerie HansenЧитать онлайн книгу.
Max had not been busy tending to Katerina he might have resorted to language he hadn’t been tempted to use in ages. What a pompous excuse for a parent Garwood was.
Max gazed down at the injured young woman and gently stroked strands of honey-blond hair off her forehead. There was a first aid kit in his car but he didn’t dare leave her unattended to fetch it. Close by in the SUV, his trained K-9, Opal, was using her deep boxer bark to alert the world to danger, even though the worst of it was probably over.
As soon as the ambulance and fire department arrived, Max planned to assert authority and insist that he and his K-9 partner perform a bomb sweep for additional devices. It was his job—and Opal’s—to ensure no one else got hurt without actually revealing the overarching mission. It was going to be tricky to investigate Kowalski’s crimes without exhibiting too much interest in the man’s former connection to the Duprees.
He looked at Katerina again and realized he didn’t want to turn her over to the care of the EMTs. He would, of course, because it was the right thing to do, but he wasn’t going to like relinquishing control before he was certain she was okay.
Katerina could hardly breathe. Disoriented, she opened her eyes. The back of her head throbbed and her ribs refused to allow her to fully inhale. Gasping, she fought to regain her senses, to sort out confusing memories.
A weight was on both her shoulders, holding her down.
“Don’t try to get up,” someone ordered gruffly. “An ambulance is on its way.”
Nevertheless, she tried to move.
“I said, hold still.”
There was a gentleness underlying the otherwise firm tone and it gave her a sense that she was being well cared for. “Who? What?” Flashes of reality returned. “The stable! The horses!”
“They’d been taken out. Remember?”
“Only—only from the one barn.”
“That’s the one that blew.”
“Oh.” Blinking up at the face of her companion she saw mostly shadow. Sunlight behind him gave his short blondish hair a haloed look. The brightness kept her from reading his shadowed expression. She sank back down with a moan. “My head hurts.”
“I’m not surprised. You hit the ground hard.”
Her heart sped as she realized she could have been even closer to the barn when it disintegrated. What could have caused an accident like that? There was nothing more volatile than horse liniment kept near the animals. Even the tack room was safe.
The man restraining her shouted, “Medic! Over here. Everybody else stand clear.”
“I’m all right. Really. I need to get out of here.”
“The only place you’re going, Ms. Garwood, is to the hospital.”
“No. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford to be hurt.” She pushed against his hold momentarily, then sagged back.
Bright flashes of colored light sparkled behind her eyelids. Shooting pain banished any thought of trying to stand. Escape was unthinkable.
Katerina felt as if she were falling into a bottomless abyss. Fog surrounded her, bearing her ever deeper into unconsciousness. Longing for release, she ceased to fight it. Rational thought fled.
The world, and her troubles, faded away.
* * *
Max stayed on at the Garwood Ranch to assist local authorities in searching for additional devices in the unaffected outbuildings and house after Katerina had been stabilized and transported in the ambulance. From what he could deduce from the damage, the explosion in the stable had packed a lighter punch than the others he’d recently investigated. Unfortunately, an ensuing fire had wiped out much of the evidence and what the flames didn’t consume, the firefighters’ high pressure hoses had dispersed.
By now the place was swarming with law enforcement, fire personnel and crime scene investigators. He was relieved that he and his K-9 had not discovered more bombs because a crowd like that was hard to safeguard.
When he reported to the incident commander, a fire department battalion chief, he brought Opal with him. “My dog and I have completed our search. All clear.”
“You sure?”
Max laid a hand gently on the boxer’s head and stroked between her ears. “Opal is positive. That’s good enough for me.”
“Okay. Thanks. I can’t believe you were already on scene when this happened. Is that some new FBI deduction technique that we haven’t heard of?”
Max chuckled. “Not hardly. I was here to follow up with the Garwoods regarding another case my team is working. What can you tell me about Vern Kowalski?”
“Not much.” The chief paused to radio instructions to an engine crew. “Pull down that west wall. I don’t want to see a rekindle and lose another barn.”
As soon as the man turned back to him Max asked, “Had you met Kowalski?”
“Briefly. The guy wanted to join our volunteers but he didn’t make the cut. Katerina seemed to like him, though.”
“I gathered, since she was going to marry him.”
“Yeah. I hope she’s gonna be okay. Nice girl. Her daddy’s a real piece of work, though. He was hard to get along with before he got elected mayor of South Fork. Now he’s impossible.”
“Any word on her condition?” Max asked, remembering her attempt to avoid treatment and her father’s unfeeling reaction to her condition. How could any parent see his child injured and just walk away?
“Not yet. We shipped her to the hospital in Mariposa. Paramedics said she could have a concussion. Hard to say without X-rays.”
“What became of Garwood? I know he was here for a while.” Max made a sour face. “He’s hard to ignore.”
“Yeah. Sheriff Tate took him off the property in a patrol car. They’re old buddies.”
“I see. Then I’ll talk to the Garwood I can find and head for Mariposa.” Max scanned the scene. “Just make sure your people bag and tag as many clues as possible. I’ll notify Quantico and have an agent pick up the evidence for processing.”
The chief didn’t look particularly pleased to share jurisdiction but didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded and returned to the smoldering wreckage.
Max was pouring fresh water into Opal’s bowl in the backseat as he checked in with Dylan at headquarters. “The ranch owner is AWOL at the moment so I’m going to follow up with the injured daughter, providing she’s conscious.”
“The one who was engaged to one of the men arrested in the Dupree sweep?”
“Yup. That’s the one.”
“Just watch your back,” Dylan cautioned. “I don’t care how idyllic it looks up there, you’re in more danger than a gold prospector defending himself against claim-jumpers back in ’49.”
Max had to smile. “I have Opal and a cell phone and radio, and I’m armed. I’m covered.”
“The dog will always work but don’t count on electronics if you get down in some of those deep valleys. Besides, the Duprees play rough.”
“I know. Thanks,” he said, ending the call and drawing his fingers down the ridge of the old scar remaining on his left cheek as he recalled the events originally surrounding that injury five years before. Max knew that nobody lived forever, but he simply could not accept the premature death of a child on his watch. Worse, he had unknowingly contributed to that disaster by trusting