out.
An explosion shook the house. Fire erupted in a big, tumbling wave, spiraling out from the den. Mac threw his body toward Elizabeth, and they hit hard in the closet, falling even as the world exploded around them.
* * *
WHEN THE FIRE lit the sky, he smiled. Two more problems eliminated.
That had been easy. He’d made that last call to assure himself that Elizabeth was inside the house. It wouldn’t have done for her to be outside when the bomb exploded. But he’d been able to tell by her fear—you were inside, weren’t you, Elizabeth? Did it hurt when the fire erupted? Did you have time to scream?
The fire was so big and bright. When would a neighbor call the fire department? How long would it be before the victims were hauled out?
The explosion would never be traced back to him. Steve’s so-called evidence would be destroyed. The last link—Elizabeth Snow—would be dead.
He didn’t have to worry about the past any longer.
Time to concentrate on his future. Retirement was definitely in order.
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