Page 65 of Flash Freeze

The instant she began to move, Snuffles hopped excitedly to the foot of the bed and bounced up and down like a miniature kangaroo, her ears flying comically in the pre-dawn glow outside the window. Flash pulled on sweats and a hoodie, and down the stairs they trotted. Snow still swathed the world in its white blanket, holding it in a suspended hush. Flash hadn’t noticed before how quiet everything was in the snow. Just as Snuffles finished her business, the whine of a distant siren caught her ear, reminding her of the day ahead.

“Come on, you pesty little pup,” she said. “Let’s make Athena breakfast in bed.”

Snuffles peered up at her with a joyful expression, probably more from physical relief than the bit about breakfast in bed. Still, she knew the words breakfast, Athena, and bed, so maybe?

Their tracks showed the way as Flash’s waterproof rubber slip-ons crunched through refrozen slush and Snuffles’ paws padded over the crust. Half an hour later, she set a plate with bacon, eggs, a hash brown, and a fruit cup on Athena’s nightstand beside a steaming cup of coffee, light cream and sugar the way she liked it.

Athena’s chest rose as she inhaled the aroma before opening her eyes. The covers slipped when she stretched, revealing soft porcelain shoulders, so unlike her own. Her cute nose wiggled, sniffing the air. Then her lids fluttered up, uncovering stunning hazel eyes, eyes that could strike the fear of God into a suspect or underling, and yet express such tenderness and vulnerability when they were alone.

“What time is it?” She yawned.

“Six-fifteen.” Flash sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “Snuffles got me up early, but not early enough for me to come back to sleep. So, I made us breakfast.”

Athena pushed up, eyes widening. “Is it the 14th already?”

A smile broadened across Flash’s face. “Not until tomorrow.”

“But you brought me breakfast in bed.”

“Yep!” Flash grinned, then touched her lips to Athena’s. “I’ll just go grab mine and come join you.”

Flash’s thoughts turned dreamy as she collected her plate and coffee. I wonder how long the power will stay out? Weeks? And I get to keep Athena here all that time. Flash believed she’d like to keep her love here for the rest of their lives … unless they retired and moved to the Piney Point Village mansion with the giant TV and the awesome swimming pool.

Athena could get used to this so easily. She feared she already had and dreaded the day the electricity came back on in her lonely condo. I can just invite Flash over more often, she thought. But she knew what she really wanted. Patience.

She strode into her office a few minutes early in FBI black and Jimmy Choo knee boots. Travis, in his standard Bureau suit and black, classic-toed Justins, held the door for her.

Agent Paulson was pouring his coffee, and the others had yet to arrive. “Good morning,” he greeted. He’d clearly showered and shaved and had put on freshly creased slacks, a pinstripe shirt, and a solid tie.

“Good morning,” Athena responded in kind. “I hope you’re sleeping well up here in the crib, and I hate that you’re away from your family for so long.”

“Ha!” He spun his wheelchair toward them with a storyteller’s look in his eyes. “Back when I was a field agent, I’d be gone for days on a stakeout—weeks or months doing an undercover operation. A couple of snowed-in days in the safety of FBI headquarters is like a vacation at the Ritz.”

Agents Hernandez, Campbell, and Howard soon arrived, taking their spots. Then Detective Bach escorted Agent Shoops through the door. Athena wouldn’t ask. Maybe he was just giving her a lift, as Travis had done for her. Better not to know.

“Let’s make this the day we catch our guy,” Bach declared with an air of optimism. “We got an update from the lab. The techs have identified a few trace materials on the victim’s clothing that suggest he was assaulted and killed in the office, not merely moved there to get burned up.” He scrolled on his phone for a few seconds. This wasn’t big news, but every detail counted.

“Carpet fibers, toner dust, lead and silica particles dispersed across his clothing, and a cleaning solvent on his shoulder,” Bach listed. “The janitor said he cleaned the room early that morning, but you can’t vacuum up everything. Also, no scuff marks on his shoes or particulates suggesting being dragged across a polished concrete surface.”

“Ok, let’s take a glance at this from the beginning,” Athena said as she stood before her team. Every head turned, eyes fixed on her. She addressed them in her typical authoritative posture.

“Employees arrived about nine Friday morning,” she began. “A witness recalled janitor Isaac Mora performing regular maintenance on the generator between nine and nine-thirty. During that time frame, Inspector Nolan arrived. The janitor then moved inside to tidy up the office before Nolan began going over the books. Kim Reynolds escorted him around until Nolan dismissed her, sometime shortly before ten. Mr. Booker gathered his staff in the conference room at approximately ten o’clock for their meeting. Wendy Newbacher, the pregnant woman, stepped out for the restroom but doubtfully hid a device in the generator or murdered Nolan. The explosion occurred at 11:10, followed by fire and mayhem. Before, we focused on who could have planted the bomb and when. Now let’s dig into who could have gone into the office and bludgeoned Inspector Nolan between ten and eleven o’clock.”

“It couldn’t have been any of the office workers,” Howard suggested. “They were all accounted for at that time.”

Stepping to the whiteboard, Athena took a marker and drew lines through Booker and Walsh’s names. “We didn’t give them strong likelihoods, but now they’re completely off the table. So, who does that leave?”

“Any of the blue-collar workers,” Hernandez said. “We ran them. Only a few had criminal hits.” He quickly shuffled through papers, plucking one out. “Jimmy Schultz, Patrick Garrett, and Julio Sinclair. Do you want me to follow up on them?”

“Yes. You and Ice track them down and question them. If any seem viable, bring them in.”

“We ran the heck out of the tree huggers,” Campbell said. “I could dig deeper—”

“No,” Athena interrupted. “We need people with access to the building while it was open, and none of them passed the front gate camera. Were any of the service providers present Friday morning filling vending machines, delivering or collecting laundry, floor mats, anything?”

Agent Howard thumbed through his file. “No outside providers were scheduled for Friday morning.”

“Again, no service vans on the gate cam,” Campbell confirmed.