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A wave of horror washed over her. If she and Steele had gone to the meeting in the rental vehicle, they’d be dead.
Swallowing hard, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for watching over them. Again. Or maybe still.
She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
She opened her eyes when Brock took a sharp turn.
“Steele?” Even her own voice sounded muffled, as if she had cotton in her ears. Was this hearing loss permanent? “I can’t hear you.”
Steele twisted in his seat, his expression set in stone. “Are you okay? The baby?”
The words were still muffled, but at least she heard him. She covered her abdomen with her hands, waiting for movement. For a long moment, she didn’t feel anything, then the baby shifted in her womb. “I—yes. I think so.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, and she was relieved to hear them.
“Where to?” Brock asked. His voice was louder now. Or her hearing was improving. Hopefully the latter. “Still the precinct?”
“No,” Steele answered at the same time she said, “Yes.”
He turned to scowl at her. “Not happening.”
“The blast was meant to keep us from meeting with Jake, right?” She held his gaze. “That means we may learn something important by talking to him.”
“No, the blast was meant to kill us,” Steele retorted. “It may not be related to the meeting at all.”
“But if it is connected to the meeting, Harper’s right,” Brock said. “There could be some intel to gain from this interview.”
She couldn’t believe Brock was on her side for once. “It’s safe enough at the precinct, isn’t it? Plenty of cops around.”
“Not necessarily,” Steele said harshly. “Last month a cold-blooded killer tried to shoot Elly right outside the rear exit.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It would take some nerve to attempt to kill someone at a police station. But she couldn’t let fear stop her, not now. “I trust you and Brock to keep me safe.”
“Yeah,” Steele drawled. “Because we’re doing such a bang-up job of that.”
“Hey, we’re not hurt,” Brock pointed out. “We must be doing something right.”
“Sheer luck.” Steele shook his head. “If we had driven ourselves to the precinct in the rental SUV...”
“We didn’t,” she quickly interjected. “And it’s not luck, God watching over us.” She leaned forward as much as her seat belt would allow. “Please head for the precinct. I think this interview could be important.”
Steele sat quietly for a long moment. “Fine.” He was obviously not happy about the plan. “But I’m calling Joe.” He pulled the phone from his pocket. “I want him and other members of the team to be there waiting for us to arrive. I don’t like the way our hotel was found.”
That she could agree with. She eyed his phone. “Do you think we were tracked to the hotel through your phone?”
He glanced at her in surprise. “I would say yes, except we’ve been at the City Central Hotel for more than thirty-six hours. Why wait until now to strike?”
“How else, then?” She pressed. The memory of how Bryon Perkins smirked at her upon finding the gun in her dresser flashed in her mind. “Maybe one or both of the ATF agents are involved.”
“Anything is possible, and I’m willing to ditch my phone,” Steele agreed. “But don’t forget you called your boss and logged into work.”
“What?” Brock’s eyes were wide with surprise as he met her gaze in the rearview. “Why would you do something like that?” He acted as if she’d committed some huge transgression. What else was she supposed to do all day? Twiddle her thumbs?
“I’m burning vacation time I can’t afford to lose. I was hoping to save more time for after I deliver my baby.” She shook her head, wishing they could understand how important it was for her to keep her job. “There’s no way Gibson and Roberts are involved. The tracking source has to be your phone, Steele.”
“Maybe.” He called Joe to make the arrangements, then surprised her by lowering the window and tossing the device out. It bounced off the concrete pavement once, then a second time, shattering into pieces.
“I’ll pick up new phones later,” Brock said after a moment of silence. “For both of us.”
