Shane took a step away from the dead man at their feet. “I suspect they’d have come outside by now if there had been. I’m going to flag down the emergency services before they rush in. I want the bomb squad going over every inch before anyone goes inside.”

Yael looked toward the cabin. A section of one wall had already collapsed and flames were consuming what remained of the roof.

“I doubt any evidence will survive the fire.”

“Probably not, especially once the fire service gets their hoses on it.” Shane pulled a cell out of his back pocket. “Hand me an evidence bag out of the inside pocket of my jacket, will you?”

Yael did so and watched him slip the phone into the plastic and then back into a pocket in his pants. “Is that Zenko’s?”

“Yeah. I found it on the table beside the couch.”

A flicker of excitement went through her as surely the cell would contain evidence or clues…but it was difficult to ignore the fact this man had died and she was covered in his blood, or that Shane had been in extreme danger, and it was likely the man calling himself Evi1Geni-us had been so close she could have called out to him.

“I told Sloan to put up roadblocks. Think the cops will catch him?”

Shane shrugged. “You never know. Plenty of bad people have been caught following a routine traffic stop. We might get lucky.”

But she could tell from his tone he doubted they’d get lucky this time. The sound of sirens got much louder and he strode into the middle of the road as the first fire truck came into view.

She staggered away from Lloyd Zenko’s dead body to brace herself against a nearby tree. Her hands were stained with his blood and she was shivering uncontrollably. She closed her eyes and did her best not to pass out.

13

The fire truck speeding past almost made him piss his pants.

That was a hell of a response time for such a rural area…and now he could hear police sirens joining the fray. Shit. Sweat coated his brow and ran down his spine despite the winteriness of the day. He turned off the main road and headed deeper into the boonies.

Lloyd Zenko had wanted more money. He’d known the guy was going to be a problem as soon as the news coverage about Houston exploded across every news channel.

Zenko had been a loser and a grifter his whole life and suddenly he thought he’d found the goose that laid the golden egg. He’d guessed Zenko would come up here to hide out. He’d known about the cabin before he’d hired the bombmaker. And the tracker he’d attached to the asshole’s beloved truck had confirmed his suspicions.