Chain Reaction (3 page)

The woman jerked her head toward Lucinda but didn’t seem to see her outstretched hand. ‘Is it as bad in there as it appears to be from out here?’

‘In places, yes, ma’am.’

‘And two people died – one outside and one inside?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Who were they?’

‘The man on the landing was Fred Garcia. The one in the office, we don’t know yet.’

‘Oh, Mr Garcia. He’d been maintaining the grounds for long before I got here. He has three children – I’ve forgotten their ages but they’re not in high school yet. Does his wife know?’

‘Not yet, ma’am. Someone will be visiting her shortly.’

‘Could I – may I – accompany whoever goes to see Mr Garcia’s widow? I want to be there for her.’

‘I am sure that can be arranged,’ Lucinda said with a nod. ‘We will appreciate the assistance and I am certain that Mrs Garcia will be grateful to see a familiar face.’

‘Just let me know when. Can I see the other victim? Maybe I’ll recognize—’

‘Sorry, ma’am, the body has already left for the morgue. But the damage to the face was so severe that I doubt anyone would recognize him. We do suspect, however, that it may have been a student.’

‘A student? What was a student doing in the building on a Sunday?’

‘We’re hoping you’ll be able to help us answer that question, ma’am,’ Lucinda said, lifting up the tape.

The woman ducked under and when she stood back up again, she stretched out her right arm. ‘Forgive my manners, Lieutenant. I’m Rose Johnson. I’ve been the principal at this school for three years.’

Lucinda shook her hand and said, ‘No need to apologize. Your reaction is understandable.’

As they turned into the hall with the dismantled lockers, Rose gasped and mumbled ‘Ohmigod, Ohmigod’ again and again as they picked their way through the obstacles.

Entering the office, Lucinda said, ‘Ms Johnson, this is Resident Agent in Charge Connelly from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. And that is Special Agent in Charge Lovett from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Gentlemen, this is Rose Johnson, the principal of this school.’

Rose’s face blanched as she looked over the ruin of her workplace, her eyes roaming from one side to another. ‘May I?’ she asked, pointing toward her corner office.

‘Certainly, ma’am,’ Connelly said.

Jake reached out a hand to steady her as she stepped around a fallen, twisted file cabinet. In the doorway of her space, her hand flew to her mouth as she took in the scene in front of her. She knelt down and picked up a framed photograph. After shaking off the broken glass, she ran her fingers over the face of a man in uniform and clutched it to her chest. ‘My son,’ she said. ‘I lost him in Iraq. An IED. I imagine the scene there looked a lot like the devastation here.’

Everyone within hearing mumbled condolences and Rose said, ‘Thank you.’ After a short silent pause, she asked, ‘Where did you find the body of the person you thought was a student?’

At that inopportune moment, a tech shouted, ‘I found a leg!’

Rose threw a hand over her mouth and lurched. Jake grabbed a metal trash can, dumped its contents and held it under her chin. When she had finished disgorging her breakfast, Connelly handed her a handkerchief and Marguerite rushed up with a bottle of water.

‘I am so sorry,’ Rose said. ‘That was very unprofessional of me.’

‘Nonsense,’ Connelly said, ‘it was very human. And no harm done. Don’t give it another thought. However, there is quite a bit of blood where the body was; are you sure you are up to it?’

Rose swallowed hard and nodded. ‘I need to be, sir.’

Lucinda led her over to the spot and pointed. ‘Just to warn you, in case of the discovery of another body part, the victim also lost a hand in the explosion.’

‘Ohmigod. And you think it was a student.’

‘He was the right age but we really don’t know if he attended school here currently or ever.’

‘If he is a current student, tomorrow morning’s attendance records should narrow down the field of possibilities.’

‘Ma’am, I don’t think it will be possible to open school tomorrow.’

‘Oh. Of course not,’ Rose said. ‘The PTA has a phone tree, I can have them call around about the school closing and also ask about any students whose whereabouts are unknown. That should help. And, of course, we’ll put an announcement up on the school’s Facebook page. And send out word to the radio and television stations and the newspaper.’

Agent Connelly said, ‘I’m not so sure that’s a good plan. It might be better if you say nothing about the situation here.’

‘Are you crazy, Agent? I can’t just shut down the school and not give the parents a reason for it. And I certainly will not lie to them.’

‘I do have the authority—’ Connelly began.

Lucinda held up a hand. ‘Hold it. Hold it right there. Let’s not get emotional about this – we are going to have enough of that from the community as it is. I’d like to suggest an alternative. Ms Johnson, if you will write a script for the callers and for your Facebook message and give it to Agent Connelly for approval, I think that will solve the problem.’

‘But—’ Connelly objected.

‘The principal is right, Connelly. She does need to give an honest reason for the closure. And we will have a serious advantage in this investigation the sooner we identify the unknown victim.’

Connelly turned to Jake. ‘It sounds like time for the FBI to step in and take charge here, Lovett.’

Jake folded his arms and looked Connelly in the eye. ‘Lieutenant Pierce is in charge of this case. It is in her jurisdiction. This is her community. The FBI is here to assist with resources and manpower in any way we can.’

Lucinda struggled to keep a placid face. She didn’t want to antagonize Connelly further by appearing to gloat – besides, it may be premature. She certainly didn’t comprehend the inter-agency politics on the federal level – even the machinations on the local level were far too byzantine for her to understand or accept.

Connelly stepped forward and poked a finger in Jake’s chest. ‘This is a Homeland Security matter. This may be an act of terrorism by Muslim extremists.’

Jake wrapped one hand around Connelly’s finger and flung it away. ‘Possibly. But considering that one of the possible perpetrators flew out of here just before the explosion driving a classic Bubba truck, I think we are looking at a local problem.’

‘But we need to explore all possibilities.’

‘Of course we do,’ Jake said, ‘and we will. But until we know for certain that this is the act of international terrorists, Pierce is calling the shots.’

‘I’m going to take this up with my superiors.’

‘Fine, Connelly, you do that. But, for now, get your priorities straight. You are here to help identify the components and determine the type of device we are dealing with.’

‘Have you gone native on us, Lovett?’ Connelly taunted.

Jake turned his back without answering.

Lucinda had an urge to rush up to him, hug him and thank him, despite the fact that he called her ‘Pierce’ again. Although she was suspicious of his reason for that earlier, now the logic of that professional distance was clear. Jake had probably seen this one coming.

‘L
ieutenant Pierce,’ echoed down the hallway.

Lucinda stuck her head out of the office and spotted Sergeant Robin Colter. As Lucinda walked towards her, Robin said, ‘There’s a suit outside claiming he’s from Homeland Security. He asked to speak with the person in charge of the investigation.’

‘I imagine, from the look on your face, he’s already proved to be a pain in the ass.’

‘Oh yeah. He was not pleased to learn a local cop was in charge.’

‘Oh joy,’ Lucinda said with a sigh. ‘Lead the way.’

In the outside doorway, Robin pointed to a stout man with a flushed face standing on the sidewalk. His arms were folded tight across the front of his boring navy-blue suit. Lucinda approached him, holding out her hand. ‘Lieutenant Pierce,’ she said.

The man did not move or introduce himself. ‘Is no one here from the FBI or the ATF?’

Lucinda withdrew her rebuffed palm and said, ‘Of course, we have one of each.’

‘Then why are you in charge of this investigation?’

Lucinda stepped close to him, her heels giving her a distinct height advantage as she looked down on his slicked, thinning hair. ‘Because it is our jurisdiction, it is our high school and the victims are likely residents of our city. And because this is my case.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ he said. ‘Take me to the federal agents now.’

‘Before I take you on to the scene, I need to see your ID.’ Lucinda mirrored his folded arms with hers.

For a moment, he glared at her without moving. Then he slowly unfolded his arms and reached into an interior pocket of his suit jacket. Lucinda resisted her instinctive protective reaction to unfasten the snap on the holster holding her weapon.

Pulling out his badge, he flipped it open long enough for Lucinda to read his name – ‘Franklin Wesley’ – but nothing more before he snapped it shut. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked.

Not exactly the word Lucinda would have used to describe her feelings at that moment but she said, ‘Yes, sir,’ anyway. ‘Follow me.’

Lucinda took long strides going inside, pleased to hear Wesley grunting as he struggled to keep up with her. At the check-in point, Lucinda signed in and pulled on a pair of Tyvek booties and latex gloves.

Wesley just stood there as if he had no need to follow proper procedure.

‘Sign up and put on shoe coverings and gloves or you are not walking any further,’ Lucinda ordered.

Wesley scowled at her but complied. He was still pulling on his gloves when Lucinda walked away from him.

In the office, Lucinda pointed to the federal investigators, one at a time. ‘Special Agent Lovett. Resident Agent Connelly.’ Pointing over her shoulder, she said, ‘This guy’s named Wesley and he claims to be from Homeland Security.’

‘Sir, good to see you here,’ Connelly said, as Lucinda walked away from the men and over to Marguerite Spellman.

Lucinda listened as Marguerite explained her theory that the explosion originated in a file cabinet, keeping an eye on the men across the room. Wesley’s face scowled in impatience or exasperation – Lucinda wasn’t sure which one motivated that sour expression. Connelly fidgeted in agitation, waving his arms wildly while he spoke. Jake’s face bore a bland expression. He had both hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. He appeared as if he didn’t give a damn and that ticked off Lucinda.

A couple of minutes later, Wesley spun around and walked away, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed. Lucinda raised an eyebrow at Jake who merely shrugged in response, raising Lucinda’s irritation level up another notch.

Connelly walked away from Jake, approaching Lucinda and Marguerite with stiff steps. ‘Lieutenant,’ he said, ‘please inform me if the ATF can put any resources at your disposal to help with your investigation.’

‘Thank you, Agent Connelly. You could be most effectively utilized if you would coordinate the testing of the explosive device evidence with Ms Spellman.’

‘Certainly,’ Connelly said with a condescending grin. ‘After all, I am the explosives expert here.’

‘As you said earlier,’ Lucinda responded. ‘But I think you’ll find that Ms Spellman has had intensive training in that area; however, our lab might not have the same state-of-the-art testing equipment that I am sure you can access.’ Lucinda turned away and went looking for Principal Rose Johnson. Lucinda escorted the principal outside to Robin Colter.

‘Ms Johnson,’ Lucinda said, ‘Sergeant Colter will need to ask Mrs Garcia a few questions after she absorbs the shock of her husband’s death. It’s never easy to do that but we need all the information we can get as soon as possible. Any help you can give her would be appreciated.’

Rose nodded. ‘I’m hoping the sergeant will give me a sign if I get off track,’ she said, smiling at Robin.

Lucinda watched the two women climb into Rose’s car and got back to work.

A little after six that evening, Lucinda started feeling useless. All she could do was observe until the forensic techs had cleared one area or another. So she was greatly relieved when Jake approached her and said, ‘Let’s get away from here for a few minutes – a dinner break would do us good.’

Lucinda smiled, ‘Terrific. It will give us time to talk away from everyone else.’

Jake grimaced. ‘I’m going to have to ask Connelly to join us.’

‘Really, Jake? He is the main thing I need to get away from.’

‘It will look suspicious if I don’t.’

‘Oh, screw it. I don’t care who knows about our relationship.’

‘I wasn’t talking about that as much as I was concerned that he might get the idea that we are shutting him out of the investigation. He could use that to get you thrown off the case.’

Lucinda sighed. ‘If you have to, you have to …’

Jake shrugged and walked away. When he returned, he had a bounce in his step. ‘Well, Connelly didn’t think it was a good idea if we were all absent from the scene at one time. The two of us can go with his blessing. I think he’s planning on asking Spellman to go with him after we get back.’

‘Really? Marguerite and – what is his first name anyway?’

‘Clarence. But he hates it. Don’t use it unless you’re desperate.’

Lucinda laughed. ‘Certainly is a nice piece of ammunition to save for a rainy day.’

After a short debate, they decided to eat at the nearby Commonwealth Diner, where the food was traditional American fare and the ambiance conducive to quiet conversation. After ordering, Lucinda fiddled with her silverware and the condiments tray until Jake asked, ‘What’s troubling you, Lucy?’

‘Well, gee, Jake. We have a young victim, a destroyed high school, the ATF breathing down my neck and the man who lives with me is referring to me by my last name. Why would anything be troubling me?’

‘You know I only do that as a sign of respect – to show others that I have high regard for your abilities.’

‘Oh, sure, Jake. We work together frequently and you think refusing to acknowledge that you know my first name is the equivalent of the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. Give me a break.’