a third bombing at Melinda’s Bistro, down the street from the Aurora Animal Hospital.”
“I know the place. Brutus and I are on our way.” Jesse hung up as David received a call, no doubt about the new bombing.
Jesse waved at David, then jogged with Brutus toward his SUV. Settled in his car, he switched on his engine and sirens. Fifteen minutes later he parked his car with other police cruisers and hurried toward the crime scene. The whole street was blocked off. So far, if this was the same MO, there had been only one bomb going off, but this bomber was escalating with each site, the amount of time between each bombing and from the look of the site the size of the bomb. Melinda’s Bistro would have just started serving lunch, which meant probably more deaths than the previous one. Did the killer take it even further with the addition of another bomb?
When he arrived at the command post, he assessed the destruction up close. A shudder snaked through him. A cloud of dust hung in the still air where the restaurant had once been, a two-story building brought to the ground, except for one small area where the top floor remained, but heavily damaged. Cries floated to him, some from within the massive debris of concrete, wood and brick.
His gut knotted, and his determination to catch the perpetrator intensified. He’d ask Thomas Caldwell, the detective overseeing the first two bombings, if he could be on the task force the department was forming. He searched the police officers, found his longtime friend and headed straight for him.
“When can we start searching for survivors?” Jesse asked. The site had to be stabilized first to protect everyone, including the survivors.
Thomas shifted his attention to Jesse, his shoulders slumped as though he’d been up forty-eight hours, which was possible. A scowl carved deep lines into Thomas’s face. “As soon as we get the okay that it’s safe. Until then I could use you and Brutus to check for any other bombs in the area.”
“Will do, and I want on the task force you’re heading.”
“I already put your name down. You were at the top of the list. I have two other K-9 officers searching this side of the street. One that way. The other opposite.” Thomas pointed toward the buildings flanking Melinda’s Bistro. “But if the bomber is getting more violent, it won’t be long before we start seeing multiple bombs. All the shops have been evacuated, necessary personnel only, so be on the lookout for looters.”
Jesse started at one end of the street and investigated anything that remotely looked suspicious. Most of the buildings’ windows were blown out, and the structures suffered minor damage. He was acquainted with Melinda and most likely she had been in her bistro. Would there be any survivors? From what was left of the restaurant, he didn’t have high hopes for anyone, even after hearing the faint cries.
At the other end of the street, he saw Bree Stone admitted into the blocked off area. She had some medical personnel with her. He detoured to meet her in the middle of the street. “Are you setting up a medical tent?”
“Yes. Have you heard of any survivors? I haven’t been told anything.”
“They’re stabilizing the site and making sure there aren’t any other bombs. As you can tell, it’s pretty chaotic.”
“David is coming.”
“I know. I was with him when we both got the call.”
Bree chewed on her bottom lip. “I was in that restaurant ten minutes before the bomb went off. I had to get back to work, but one of my friends was still there.”
“Have you checked to see where she is?”
“Yes, and she hasn’t returned to the animal hospital.” Bree studied him. “You two dated in high school, if I remember correctly. Lydia McKenzie.”
Lydia McKenzie. Jesse could feel the color drain from his face. His heartbeat slowed to a throb, and his breathing became labored. He thought if he kept his distance, even when they both were at the same SAR site, he’d be all right. He’d thought they would marry after high school. When she’d eloped with Aaron, one of his good friends, he had locked away the unbearable pain of rejection. Until she’d returned to Anchorage last year. Then the lid had lifted on that pain and leaked out.
“You need to report that. Thomas is over there.” Jesse waved toward his friend, then before he said something he’d regret about Lydia, he rotated away and said, “I still have one more building to inspect.”
With Brutus by his side, he hastened toward the last store. As his Rottweiler sniffed around, Jesse examined the clothing store, the large plate window gone in front. Through the opening, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye in the appliance shop next door. He pulled on Brutus’s leash and headed for the place. As he peered inside, he glimpsed a door closing at the rear.
He entered the appliance store with Brutus and unsnapped his leash. “Check it.”
While his K-9 moved around the large open space, Jesse removed his gun and strode toward the back exit. When he opened the door, he spied a black Chevy driving out of the parking lot. He took down the part of the license number not covered by mud. All employees, shop owners and customers were evacuated an hour ago, so why did this guy stay behind?
Going back inside, he did his own search of the premise while Brutus finished. Nothing. That was a good sign, but a troublesome feeling about the man who left nagged at him. He headed back toward Thomas who was talking with David in low tones.
Thomas wore his deadpan expression that didn’t give anything away if reporters were watching. “So far we think at least twelve people were inside. I imagine more names will come in as people wonder where someone is. We have four employees and eight customers we know of at this time. We have been given the go-ahead to search the left side of the building.”
Jesse and Brutus started for that area, the one where the second floor had crashed down on the first one. There was little to shore up, and it was probably where the bomb originated as well as where most of the casualties would be.
The thought of finding Lydia dead soured his stomach. He might be angry with her, but he prayed to the Lord she was alive somewhere in the rubble.
* * *
Lydia tried to drag deep breaths into her lungs, but the effort sent pain through her. Cracked or broken rib? She eased her eyes open to find debris all around her. Pinpoint streams of light filtered through the rubble.
A beam lay across her torso. Dust in the air caused her to sneeze and intensified the sharp constriction in her chest. The lack of oxygen and the pressure bearing down on her made her light-headed. Her eyelids slid close. She focused, as much as she could, on any sounds that indicated people were searching for survivors. Creaks and groans, as though the building were protesting its destruction, surrounded her, but she couldn’t hear any voices.
She tried to move her legs. She couldn’t do more than wiggle her toe, which meant she wasn’t paralyzed. One arm was pinned against her side, the other free. She pushed on the beam, but it wouldn’t budge. The effort drained what strength she had. She stopped and concentrated on filling her lungs with at least shallow breaths.
Then thoughts began to invade her mind. Who would take care of her seventeen-year-old sister? She came back to Anchorage for Kate. When their father died in a climbing accident, Lydia finally returned for the funeral, not intending to stay except to settle her dad’s affairs and move her sister back to Oklahoma where Lydia lived. None
