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Hot air ruffled Ryan Hayes’ hair. Shards of window glass showered over him, and the tall flames that shot from his car’s engine bay lit the night sky. He kept his head lowered. Moments earlier, when the explosion detonated and the driver’s side door flew loose from his car and sailed through the air, Ryan had hit the pavement, wrapped his arms over his head, and covered his face with his forearms.
He stayed curled in a protective ball on the ground until his jagged breathing regulated and his drumming heartbeat slowed. Then he swallowed hard and pushed himself up with trembling arms to survey the damage. His car was a blackened husk. The fire danced wildly from the hood and dark smoke rose in the air.
He scrabbled on the ground until his hand connected with his key fob. He grabbed the square of molded black plastic, barely bigger than his thumb, and shoved it into his pocket as he staggered to his feet and gaped at the wreckage of his sedan. Ryan stood for a long time and watched his car burn, mesmerized by the licking flames.
Then his hearing came back, all at once, as if someone had ripped a pair of thick earmuffs from his ears. A faint, persistent ringing accompanied the return of sound. He swiveled his head, looking for the source of the noise—an alarm? Eventually, he realized it was coming from within his head. Tinnitus from the blast, most likely.
The thought—a hypothesis he formed by considering the evidence at hand—unjammed his frozen mental processes. As Ryan’s brain came back online, he realized three things he needed to do: One, get away from the scene—now. Two, talk to Jake. Three, and most important of all, stay away from Leilah Khan until he figured out who wanted him dead and why.
He backed away from his car, turned to cut through the parking lot, and headed into the woods. They were the very same woods he and Leilah had run through approximately twelve hours earlier as they’d fled a car wreck and three armed men. As he raced away from the Potomac Private Services campus, Ryan pulled out the prepaid cell phone he’d purchased earlier in the day—a day that was shaping up to be the most eventful twenty-four hours of his life.
It had been one helluva day. Terrifying and exhausting, true. But, thanks to Leilah, also thrilling and exhilarating. At the moment, he allowed, the terror and fatigue were winning.
He keyed Jake’s cell phone into the flip phone’s number pad and jogged through the trees. The overcast sky, thick with clouds, muted the starlight, rendering the woods dark and shadowy. He hewed close to the deer fence. As long as he kept the fence to his left, the road would be to his right.
“West,” Ryan’s boss answered on the second ring.
Jake’s tone was tired and unwelcoming. Ryan didn’t care.
“It’s Hayes. Someone blew up my car.”
The fatigue vanished from Jake’s voice. “Where? How?”
“In the parking lot at work. I was the last to leave, so I locked up. Waited for Omar and Leilah to roll out, then hit the remote starter while I was walking toward the Accord.”
“Why? What made you
use the starter? Do you usually?”
Ryan thought. “In the winter, mainly. To get the heat going before I get in.”
“It’s April.”
“Nothing gets past you. It’s forty degrees and windy. I figured I’d earned a warm car after the day I had.”
Jake grunted. “Fair. So, you hit the button to start the engine and the car exploded?”
“That sums it up.”
“Huh. So someone wired an explosive device to your ignition. Most likely.”
“My car was on campus all day.”
“I’m aware. Where are you now?”
“I took off. Standing around seemed like a bad idea.”
“Leaving was the right call. Where’d you go?”
“I’m headed toward the driving club. Not for any good reason. Just because it’s nearby and I can stay off public roads.”
Even as he explained his reasoning, Ryan realized his plan was a terrible one.
Jake gave voice to the problem. “Don’t go there. Assuming the bomber is the same person who sabotaged Leilah’s brakes, they have access to the driving club.”
He was right. Ryan stopped in his tracks. His heart thudded in his chest, and his mind raced as he regrouped, scrambled to make a new, less stupid plan.
Jake went on. “You know that old vegetable stand out on the side of the highway?”
He knew it. “Sure. It’s part of that farm you bought.”
“You can jump the fence in the old cow pasture and follow the tractor path down to the stand. It’s right by the shoulder of Old Mill Road. Wait for me there. I’m coming to pick you up.”
“I don’t want to involve you in—”
“Tough. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
He frowned. “It’s at least a thirty-minute drive from your place.”
“I said what I said.”
Relief coursed through Ryan’s body at the prospect of Jake’s assistance. Then another thought struck him. “Wait, what if I can’t get into the structure? What’s the backup spot?”
Jake laughed. “You’ll be able to get in. Olivia kicked the lock off the door when she and Trent were on the run from the FBI. That’s actually
how I ended up buying the property. The absentee landlord sent me a bill to repair the lock on that falling-down shack and I took the whole place off his hands.”
Despite his predicament, Ryan grinned. “Classic. See you in fifteen, and thanks, Jake.”
“Don’t mention it. Stay frosty.”
Ryan ended the call and crossed the dark road. ...
