Tough Justice - Countdown (Part 8 Of 8)

By Janie Crouch

A killer exposed

The bomber made a fatal mistake underestimating Special Agent Lara Grant! With countless lives at stake, Lara and the CMU can't keep doubting each other. Taking out this killer before he strikes again is going to require full focus from the entire team. But this case has shaken their faith in each other like never before. As they struggle to rebuild their frayed partnerships, they finally hit paydirt. In the final countdown, their mark has messed up. And as Lara braces for another confrontation with evil, she'll do what it takes to make sure that his first mistake will be his last…

Part 8 of 8: an explosive new installment in the thrilling FBI serial from New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy and Tyler Anne Snell, Emmy Curtis and Janie Crouch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Feb 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489239853

Janie Crouch

USA TODAY and award-winning author Janie Crouch has loved to read romance her whole life. She cut her teeth on Harlequin Romances as a teen, then moved on to a passion for romantic suspense as an adult. Janie lives with her husband and four children in Germany, in support of her husband's U.S. Department of Defense job. Janie enjoys traveling, long-distance running, movies of all kinds, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.For more: www.janiecrouch.com

Book preview

Episode Eight

The CMU team is scrambling. Halpert announced a second bomb, but before he could brag to Lara about his ultimate endgame, the line was cut. They’ll need to pull together to stop the Whisperer once and for all. Are they up for it—or are they fractured beyond repair?

The final countdown has started...

Chapter One

She’d fucked up. Royally.

Lara wasn’t sure exactly what had happened since the computer feed had been cut. She knew Nick had been cursing Mercer’s name with some pretty exemplary adjectives, so evidently it had been Mercer’s plan to cut the only known communication route they had to the bomber. Then the bomb squad had arrived and evacuated Lara’s apartment. Pulling everyone out, including Nick.

All Lara had to keep her company now was the bomb team’s robot, currently evaluating the bomb under her chair as she sat there. The squad had named it Number Five. Lara prayed that was because of the catchphrase from the eighties’ movie Short Circuit: Number five is alive! or whatever it was they said—and not because the squad had lost the last four robots in situations like this.

At least she knew there had been a real bomb under her chair and Halpert hadn’t played her this whole time. That had certainly crossed her mind. Although right now, as another drop of sweat trickled down her back to a place she couldn’t reach without shifting her weight too much, she’d take being made the fool if it meant she could get up.

Not knowing what was going on was almost as painful as having to sit in this chair. No phones, no walkie-talkies, nothing that could be used to remotely detonate a bomb had been allowed anywhere nearby. It had been the first directive of the bomb disposal unit, followed by the immediate clearing of her apartment, the building and probably the whole damn block.

Okay, we’re good here. Lieutenant Chandler Davis, head of the bomb unit, walked through the door, and winked at her. We cut the blue wire this time.

Nick was a half step behind him, definitely not winking.

Do I need to write an epic poem of how awesome you are? Lara said to Chandler. Like when you dismantled the bomb at the warehouse a few days ago?

Chandler smiled. I’ll add it to my collection any time you want to write one.

Both men crossed to her to help her stand. Amazing how having to hold yourself still for multiple hours could take so much out of your muscles.

You got her? Chandler asked Nick.

Yeah. Nick nodded, face grim. He led Lara a few steps into her kitchen. You okay?

Yes. Fine. I just need to get my blood flowing again and go to the bathroom.

She took care of that then met him back in the kitchen.

Nick, what’s happened? I’ve been out of the loop for hours. Before they kicked you out of the apartment you said something about getting a school on Long Island cleared, but Halpert told me there’s a second bomb. Was that the school? He was cut off before I could find out where. I don’t know why the hell Mercer told you to cut the feed. It was our only—

A bomb did go off, Lara, just a few moments after we cut the feed with Halpert. Nick’s mouth set in a hard line. At a mall in Staten Island.

Lara might have fallen if Nick hadn’t had a grip on her. Oh, my god.

It would’ve been full of families and children. She felt like she might vomit. This was her fault.

Lara brought a hand up to rub her eyes trying to keep it together. This was her fault. She thought she’d known more than Halpert, but she’d never imagined a second bomb could be in play. And this stunt—going off on her own—could’ve prevented the team from getting there.

We got it cleared, Lara. Nick’s tone was still grim. He was obviously more than pissed at her, but he at least didn’t let her think the worst for long. Christina and Eloise figured out what building plans Harlen had been accessing online and we were able to get the building clear of civilians.

The relief that flowed through her was palpable. She’d screwed up so bad. Obviously Nick also knew she’d screwed up something fierce. But at least no one else had paid the price for her mistake.

Wait, why did you say Harlen, not Halpert?

Nick scrubbed a hand across his face. Because we’ve been calling him that all morning. He explained James’s discovery of Mitchell Halpert, aka Harlen Mitchell Michaels’s tracking software and how it tied everything so neatly together.

Victoria. William Walsh. Trevor Dunbar. They had all been connected. At least it all makes sense now. That these people weren’t just random—

She cut off, spinning while pulling her weapon out, when a fist slammed into her desk behind her.

Goddamned son of a bitch, Chandler Davis muttered under his breath before turning away.

What? Lara asked, rushing to him. Is it the bomb? Is it still live? Do we need to evacuate?

No. The man looked at her then Nick. We just got word. That bomb that went off in Staten Island was this same guy, right?

Yes, Lara and Nick both said at the same time.

Davis’s face was ashen. A member of the disposal unit was in that mall when it blew. He didn’t make it. Jason Baker. Eight months out from retirement. He cursed again. We thought we had more time.

Lara reached to offer Davis comfort, whatever pathetic comfort a single touch on the arm could offer, but he shrugged her off. Maybe because he couldn’t accept comfort right now.

Or maybe he sensed that Lara was at fault for his friend’s death. Davis turned and walked out of her apartment.

Halpert blew it early because we cut the internet feed to you, Nick said, jaw tight. Dammit, I told Mercer that would happen. That man needs to get over making everything a power struggle.

Lara was shaking. A life had been lost—and so many more could’ve been lost—all because she had withheld information about that SIM card from the team.

This is my fault, Lara whispered.

This is Halpert’s, Harlen’s, whatever you want to call him, fault. Not yours. But you’re not without responsibility, Lara.

Regret burned like acid in her gut. I know.

We could see everything you and Halpert were discussing, Nick told her.

Shit. He knew it all. The whole team knew every emotion Halpert had pulled from her.

Nick was angry. The heat of the anger was easy to see. And much easier to take than the cold underneath it. The disappointment. The withdrawal from her.

You crossed a line this time, Lara, he continued softly, the weight of the words hanging in the chasm between them. Deliberately withholding evidence from the team? Maybe if you’d given it to us we would’ve found something you didn’t see. Or could’ve set him up; trapped him.

Lara flinched. Not because Nick’s words were overly harsh but because they were 100 percent correct.

She’d messed up on every possible level.

Nothing between them would ever be the same, and not just professionally. Suddenly all she wanted was for Nick