So if there wasn't a basement, where could one hide . . .
I looked up.
It was a single-story house, but it had looked taller from the outside, suggesting a large attic. Sure enough, I found a ceiling hatch with a hook. I managed to snag that. Then I pulled carefully, braced to set off an alarm.
A narrow set of steps rolled down. I ascended slowly, shining my penlight up into the dark. And there it was. Right at the top. Not a laser beam but a thin thread, ready to be triggered by anyone who came up unawares.
I lifted my foot to step over the wire . . . and froze. Then I turned, following the wire. It did not connect to a tiny alert box.
I had seen very few IEDs in my life. It was a rare hitman who'd use one, both because it required specialized knowledge and because it risked collateral damage. But I knew one when I saw one. And that's what I was seeing here. It wasn't just a small bomb, either. Trip this wire, and bits of me would be scattered through the rubble of this house.
I considered withdrawing. But I had one foot over the wire, and backing up seemed just as dangerous as going forward.
So I inched my other foot over, sweat dripping down my cheek. Once I was across, I took a closer look.
No, I wasn't exaggerating when I said tripping this device would level the house. That was the intention. If anyone tried coming up here, the whole building would come down, hiding whatever lay inside.
I stepped away from the device, shone the light around and found exactly what I expected. The laboratory where this bomb had been constructed. Where I suspected all the bombs had been constructed.
In the attic of a house owned by Sheila Walling.
Chapter Nineteen
Jack
Jack walked into Victor Walling's office dressed in a suit, newly purchased but not new. Thrift shops and consignment stores were his best source of disguise material, and yeah, partly because he hated spending a lot of money on an outfit he'd wear once, but also, second-hand clothing meant he wouldn't walk in with a stiff new suit, tag still dangling from one sleeve. For this particular disguise, slightly rumpled worked just fine.
"McCall," he said to the woman at the front desk. "I work with Detective Lee. Does Victor have a moment?"
He did not introduce himself as "Detective" McCall. His outfit and his words suggested that, though, and the young woman quickly escorted him back to Walling.
As Jack walked, he looked around, assessing. It was an insurance sales office, neither a particularly classy nor shabby one. Middle of the road, like Walling himself, seated behind his desk in a suit little better than Jack's. When Jack walked in, he straightened, rising as he extended his hand.
"McCall," Jack said. "We haven't met. Detective Lee asked me to stop by. It's about Sheila."
Walling sighed and lowered himself back into his seat. "I heard she'd been arrested. I still can't believe it. I knew she was angry, but to kill Cherise? And Charles Atom's girl? Everyone kept telling me it was Sheila, but I thought no, they were jumping to conclusions. Not my Sheila." A slow shake of his head.
"She hasn't been charged in any deaths," Jack said. "We've only traced the device from Angela Kamaka's car back to Sheila."
"But they were all made by the same person, right?"
"We're working on that. We have a lead on a possible location for her laboratory--where she might construct the devices. That's why I'm here. Do you have access to her mother's home?"
Walling's head shot up. "Tina's house? No, that's been empty for years."
"We traced the package delivery there."
"Then that's just where Sheila picked it up. The house isn't big enough to hide a bomb lab."
"Maybe. We're working on getting a search warrant, but we've run into some complications. Detective Lee hoped you could grant access, being half owner."
Walling shook his head. "It's Sheila's. I've never had keys. I'm sorry."
"Is there any way--?" Jack checked his phone, as if he'd just gotten a text. "Well, it seems we'll be getting that warrant in about an hour. Sorry to bother you." He nodded. "Have a good day."
Chapter Twenty
Nadia