Crazy as it seemed he was about to put Bull to work solving the crimes, even if he was one of the criminals.

By tonight he’d get the bomb squad, minus Bull, together and go hunting. Hank had said that the reason all was quiet the past few days might be because the bombers were planning something big.

Ketch ran the facts one more time. One lone bomber, not likely. Three or more made sense. These guys were not smart, but they were locals. They knew the town.

Monday morning the college would be wide-open. There was even a ceremony planned to congratulate the college for winning an award. People, even the press, would be everywhere. A few working bombs on campus could cause chaos.

Chapter 33 - Hank

Chapter 33

Hank

Hank was busy burning breakfast when Simon woke up.

The kid crawled out from under his covers and looked in Hank’s direction. “You can cook?”

“Nope, but I try. I do great on toast and fruit, but I can’t seem to make the eggs look right. But don’t worry, I’ve figured out if you put ketchup on them they’re edible.”

Simon yawned a yawn that seemed to take his whole body to complete as he walked to the kitchen. He climbed up on one of the stools and stared at Hank. “Mom says I got to learn to cook because it’s a fifty-fifty chance my wife won’t know how. I think it might just be easier to find a woman who likes fast food. No cooking. No dishes.”

Hank grinned. “You thought about this, haven’t you?”

The little boy looked exhausted from the effort. “We can turn our kitchen into an aquarium if we never cook anything. The shelves could hold cages for all the bugs and spiders I find. I thought about having birds, too, but they’d probably eat the bugs and spiders.” He looked at Rambo. “I know what I don’t want. I don’t want him. That dog woke me up twice last night licking my face. It’s too little to be a dog, too hairy to be a mouse, and too noisy to be a fish.”

Simon picked up Rambo and put him on the bar.

Rambo walked to the edge, looked down, and must have reasoned it was too far a fall, so he started barking.

The kid poked him. “Is this a dog or a big nosy bug? It looks like a wind-up toy.”

Hank lifted Rambo off the counter and stuffed him in the pouch of his sweatshirt. If the kid kept talking he’d hurt Rambo’s feelings.

The dog popped his head out the other end of the pouch. He gave Hank a look that seemed to ask, “Why didn’t you leave the kid outside?”