Page 3 of Delusional

That was a new one. It made me pause.

Nelson said, “The initial assessment of the device is that it was relatively sophisticated. More so than the one that killed Sergeant Vega in Queens. That device was much more crude. If it hadn’t ignited the gas tank in her cruiser, she might have survived the blast. No way anyone was living through this one.”

I said, “Have they developed anything more on the Vega bombing?”

“Not much. Some group, claiming to be about fighting tyranny, took credit. But no one’s been able to pin that down.”

Other than grunting hello when I’d first introduced him to Jolynn Nelson, Rob Trilling had been his usual taciturn self. Now he spoke up for the first time. “Could they have been trying to get to the parking ticket office? That would be more in line with tyranny than the Office of Technology.”

Nelson said, “He’s a bright one. Doesn’t say much, but I like how he thinks.” She pulled a notebook from her rear pocket. “The office opened at 8:00 and the bomb detonated at 8:10. The video surveillance went offline at 5:45. My guess is that they used a timer, but the Bomb Squad hasn’t confirmed that yet. You’d think if they had that much time, they’d have figured out exactly which office they wanted to hit.”

Trilling’s phone chirped. He quickly dug it out of his jacket, glanced at the screen, and excused himself. That was out of character for my partner. One of his strongest attributes was his focus. Something about the way he rushed off made me anxious.

I gathered some more information and let my gaze wander around the devastated office. Sometimes taking an unhurried moment at a crime scene gave me an insight I might’ve otherwise overlooked.

A couple of minutes later, Trilling motioned me to the door.

All he said was “We need to talk.”

CHAPTER 3

I STEPPED INTO the hallway with Rob Trilling. He definitely had my attention. Before he said anything, I heard someone call my name. I glanced down the hallway and saw Sergeant Paul Lester lumbering toward me. His hair was a mass of gray and black swiped to one side. Even after twenty years on the force, he looked like a pro wrestler, with a wide chest and thick arms.

I said, “I figured I’d see you around here somewhere.”

“I remember when you used to work with us in the field. You were a hell of a hostage negotiator, Mike. I guess now you just wander onto scenes once they’re safe.”

“I’m glad I never let you talk me into joining the Bomb Squad. I don’t look good in those thick padded suits.”

“You don’t look that good in tailored suits either.”

We shared a laugh, and I introduced Lester to Trilling. It was clear my partner was antsy to talk to me privately.

Lester said, “It’s probably not related, but I just got a call that someone burglarized Picatinny Arsenal over in Jersey. I heard they took some C-4 and black powder the CO used for hunting. You might want to look into it.”

“Thanks, Paul. I’ll see how my day unfolds.” I made it sound casual, but it was something I couldn’t ignore.

Finally, I turned my attention to Trilling. “What’s up?”

He was momentarily hesitant to speak, then said, “I hate to ask this, because I don’t want to leave you shorthanded, but I was wondering if I could take some time off.”

“Everything okay?”

Trilling looked down at the floor, kicking a piece of debris that had found its way into the corridor. Then he looked up at me and said, “It’s a family problem back home. My brother needs help with his business.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Trilling shrugged. “My brother, Gary, runs a car lot outside of Bozeman. My grandfather started it. Someone is trying to buy it, and Pops is adamant about not selling. My brother is a little freaked out by the guy trying to buy it.”

“Sure, you can take some time. I hope it all works out. Don’t worry about this case. The Bomb Squad and Sergeant Lester are top shelf. He’ll bust my balls, but he’s really sharp and will help out any way I need.” I paused, foolishly thinking Trilling would say something else. To fill the silence, I said, “When did you last take some time off?”

“Not counting suspensions, I haven’t taken any time off since I came on the PD almost two years ago.” He gave me a sly smile. “It’s probably nothing too serious. But the car lot is in a little town my great-grandfather incorporated back in the fifties. He named it Palm Island just because he wanted to see the look on people’s faces when they found out it wasn’t an island and there were no palm trees.”

I chuckled. “Sounds like your great-grandfather had a sense of humor.”

“And a pretty good business sense. The town now has a handful of establishments, including my brother’s car lot, a water tower, and a few dozen residents.”

“Maybe it’ll be a new Manhattan one day.”