Striking Distance

Javier wasn’t entirely sure. He knew she trusted him more than any other man. He knew she cared about him, felt sexual desire for him. She wanted to stay in touch after he left. For now, that was enough.

“She cares about me. She was really shaken up yesterday.”

“I don’t blame her.”

Javier’s cell rang. He fished it out of his pocket. “It’s McBride.”

“On my way over,” McBride said. “A couple of these puzzle pieces just came together.”

* * *

LAURA DIALED TED Hollis’s number to complete the interview that had been cut short by the car bomb and was relieved when he answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mr. Hollis. This is Laura Nilsson from the

Denver Independent

.”

“Hello, Laura. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s been a while since we last spoke. I’m sorry our interview was interrupted. I meant to get back to you sooner, but things have been busy.”

He laughed. “You couldn’t help that.”

“How are you doing these days?”

“Oh, I’m hanging in there. I’m still having nightmares. I tried to quit drinking myself to sleep, but that just meant I didn’t sleep.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I called to see if you had anything else you wanted to add to your interview.”

“Oh, well, I can’t remember what we talked about. How are you? You’ve had a lot happen in your life since we spoke. The bomb. Some guy trying to shoot you. That must be very scary. I watch the news at night. I saw your interview and saw how afraid you were when they showed you that footage. I never did like Gary Chapin.”

“I’m doing fine. The U.S. Marshals are keeping me safe.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Javier appeared beside her.

“McBride is here,” he whispered.

She said a quick farewell to Mr. Hollis, thanking him for his willingness to share his story with her readers, then ended the call. “Did they say why he’s come?”

He shook his head. “He’s waiting for you.”

She was glad he was here, regardless of the reason. She needed to speak with him about Ali. She got up from her desk and walked with Javier down the hallway. “Alex said this morning in the I-Team meeting that the FBI was close to making an arrest in the bombing case. Maybe that’s what they’ve come to tell us.”

She found Zach sitting in her living room.

He stood when she entered. “Sorry to interrupt your work, Laura, but I’ve got some news for both of you.”

She sat, her hand instinctively finding its way into Javier’s, his warm fingers closing reassuringly around hers. “Go ahead.”

“First, I wanted you to know that Derek Tower might pull through after all. He’s been upgraded to critical but stable. He hasn’t fully regained consciousness, and he’s not yet breathing on his own. Hopefully, we’ll be able to question him soon.”

That was good news.

“How’s Janet?” Laura hadn’t had time to call and check on her this morning.

“She may be looking at another surgery, but she’s recovering.” Zach took a photo out of a file folder and slid it across the coffee table toward Laura. “We’ve identified the man Corbray shot yesterday. Do you recognize him at all?”

Javier leaned in. “That’s him, all right.”

Laura looked at the image, feeling revulsion to think that this was the man who had tried to kill Javier. She looked at the man’s lifeless face and vacant eyes. He had lost most of his hair, his face fleshy, his mouth gaping open. “No, I don’t. Should I?”

“He was Sean Michael Edwards, age forty-one,” Zach said.

Sean Michael Edwards.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t say why.

Zach went on. “DPD sent a team to do a search of his residence last night. They completed that search this morning, and what they found will interest both of you. In addition to an arsenal of

toy

firearms, we found an AR-15, an M110 sniper rifle, and two double-deuce pistols. We also found a wall covered with photos of you, Laura.”

“What?”

Laura’s stomach sank.

Javier gave her fingers a squeeze. “So he’s not just some random nut job. He’s a part of this somehow?”

“We can’t be sure of anything yet, but it certainly seems that he had an obsession with you. He had photos dating back three years. They’d been cut from newspapers and magazines and stuck on a bulletin board until they overlapped—dozens of them. Also, the rifle in the surveillance footage from the parking garage was an M110. It’s hard to imagine this could all be a coincidence.”

“Why would he go after Javier?”

“We can only speculate,” Zach said. “Given that Corbray was featured alongside you in news coverage of the sniper attack, perhaps he felt that getting Corbray out of the way might make it easier for him to get to you. We’re sending the weapons in to ballistics for testing and should have an answer by tomorrow.”

“Wait a sec.” Javier looked confused. “Are you saying

this guy

is our sniper? I just can’t believe that he could miss Laura’s head by less than an inch from more than two hundred yards and then almost miss me when he was standing just fifteen feet away.”

Zach shook his head. “There’s more. We did an extensive background check on him. He served two deployments as an RTO—a radio telephone operator—with the army infantry in Iraq. His first was in 2007, while you were there, Laura. He suffered a traumatic brain injury near the end of his second deployment and was given a medical discharge. What we found more interesting was the fact that he was disciplined for his involvement in a protection racket. It seems that he and a few of his fellow soldiers were shaking down residents in a neighborhood in Baghdad. You broke that story, Laura.”

Sean Michael Edwards.

Laura’s heart gave a hard knock.

“Oh, my God.”

She tried to remember the details of the investigation. It had been so long ago. Four soldiers had run a shakedown racket against residents of one Baghdad neighborhood, promising protection in exchange for money and other favors—cigarettes, liquor, sex. She’d been tipped off by a woman, a pediatrician, who lived in that neighborhood and had filmed the soldiers looting with her phone. They’d been disciplined—each of them sentenced to fines and a reduction in rank.

She glanced down at the photo again, his face that of a stranger. “His name sounded familiar, but I didn’t make the co

Javier looked down at the photo again. “A lot of us felt those guys got off easy. They should have gone to prison.”

Zach looked from Laura to Javier. “Clearly, this co

Javier pointed to Edwards again. “So this guy is one of the soldiers Laura busted with that investigation, and he wanted revenge. I get that. But what I don’t get is where Derek Tower fits in—or how the guy I shot could be co

And then Laura felt pieces fall into place, insight riding on a surge of adrenaline. “He isn’t. I think Ali Al Zahrani was framed.”

The two men stared at her.

Javier spoke first. “I know you care about what happened to this kid, but you’ve got to have strong evidence to say something like that.”