“Right back at ya.” Nica stood and grabbed Gracie’s hands, pulling her to her feet. “Now let’s go figure out what you’re going to wear for your big night.”
Morning came fartoo early. Yet somehow Nick managed to pry his eyelids open enough to look at his phone, and halt the incessant beeping of the alarm. He’d finally crawled into bed a little after five, having spent the previous night sitting outside Gracie’s apartment. At least this time he’d used his rental instead of Ms. Edna’s dilapidated classic, for which his backside was grateful.
He hadn’t mentioned to Rafe he planned to keep watch again. Several times during the night, he’d spotted sheriff’s cruisers driving by, doing a quick check. Those cursory checks might satisfy the sheriff, but then again Rafe didn’t have the kind of interest in Gracie that Nick had finally admitted to. She was his newly awakened fascination, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Dressing quickly, he made his way downstairs and out the front door, bypassing the kitchen and Ms. Edna. He liked the feisty old woman with her quick wit and gravelly voice, but he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat and shared gossip this morning. No, he needed a caffeine fix and a chance to see Gracie.
Pulling the key fob from his pocket, he pushed the remote start button. Within seconds, a blast from the explosion flung him backwards, landing him several feet away and smacking the back of his head against the front porch stair. It hurt to breathe, the air knocked out of him when he’d impacted with the ground. Smoke plumed high and the sound of car alarms blared from the neighboring cars. He ducked as debris and shrapnel rained down near him, glass and metal hitting the ground. As far as he could tell, the cars parked close to his had sustained copious damage, with broken windows, as well as dented roofs and doors.
The husk of the car’s remnants stood like a skeleton stripped of its outer shell. Nick slowly sat up, looking around at the devastation. Raising his hand to his face, he wiped at his eyes, his hand coming away covered in blood.
A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he twisted to see Ms. Edna behind him, her mouth moving, but he heard nothing but the ringing in his ears. Shaking his head, he indicated with signs that he couldn’t hear, and she nodded, holding up her cell phone. Guess she’d called the sheriff, although he assumed Rafe or his staff would have already heard about the explosion and were on their way.
Struggling to his feet, he tried to make sense of what he was looking at. The acrid smell of smoke burned his nose and throat, and he coughed, trying to drag air into his lungs. Ms. Edna tapped his shoulder, smacked a wad of paper towels against his forehead, and guided his hand to hold them in place.
Swaying on his feet, he took a wobbly step forward, before he felt hands on his shoulders turning him, and guiding him back to the front steps of the B&B. He had to admit he was grateful for the assist.
Within minutes, two sheriff’s cruisers pulled up and parked on the street in front of the B&B. Rafe stepped from one and Dusty from the other. Dusty had angled his car to block most of the street off, and he motioned for two cars to drive slowly around him, making sure not to block the driveway.
Two fire trucks and an ambulance pulled up, and Nick spotted Brody Boudreau climbing from one of the trucks and head for the burning hulk of metal that used to be his rental. Rafe made his way to Nick.
“Looks like you caught another lucky break. Can you tell me what happened?” Nick could barely make out what Rafe said from the ringing in his ears. Being that close to an explosion, he hoped he hadn’t shattered his eardrums.
“Came out and used the remote ignition starter. Then bam.”
“Did you see anything before the explosion?”
Nick shook his head and instantly regretted it. The movement made his senses swim and he wanted to hurl. Good thing he hadn’t eaten yet.
“Okay, let’s have the paramedics take a look at you.”
Nick realized he was still holding the paper towels to his forehead and pulled them loose, startled at the copious amount of blood staining them. He could feel the warm trickle down the side of his face.
“Let me take a look at that, okay?” A female paramedic knelt beside him, taking the bloody towels from him and placing them into a plastic bag. With calm efficiency, she took his vitals, and bandaged his forehead. “We’re going to need to take you to the emergency clinic and have the doctor take a look at you, maybe get a couple x-rays.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Don’t care,” Rafe growled. “You know the drill. Especially since you’re a civilian in this instance, you follow the rules. Sharon says you need to see the doc, you see the doc. Let’s get you checked out first, and then we’ll get to the whole Q&A portion of events.”
“Unfortunately, I’ve got way too many questions and not enough answers.” Nick looked Rafe straight in the eye. “We both know this is probably the same person who slashed the tires and took a shot at me.”
“True, but whoever it is, they are starting to tick me off. Too much crime in my county. I have a reputation to uphold, and they’re making me look bad.” Rafe grinned. “Besides, Brody’s always wanted to investigate a car bombing. Not much call for that in Shiloh Springs—until now.”
“Let’s go, Mr. Vincent. The paramedic indicated the gurney which had been brought over to the steps.”
“I can walk to the ambulance.”
“No can do.” Sharon helped him stand. “My orders are clear; patients get a free ride in the back of my buggy. No exceptions. Not even for the cute ones.”
Knowing he wasn’t about to get out of riding in the ambulance, he complied, allowing them to strap him to the gurney and load him into the back, grimacing when he noted all the onlookers. He scanned the crowd, wondering if the bomber was in the crowd, watching his handiwork and realizing they’d failed once again to kill him.
Fortunately, the trip to the clinic was quick, and he was greeted by Dr. Gabe Stevens. He’d met the man once or twice, and remembered he was Douglas’ physician, the one who’d treated him after the cardiac episode.
“Mr. Vincent, can you tell me if you’re hurting anywhere?”
“Some ringing in my ears, a little difficulty hearing at first, but that’s improving. Landed on my back from the concussion of the blast, but I haven’t noted any injuries, other than the cut on my forehead.”
The doctor shone a light in his eyes, then looked in his ears, and palpated around his neck and shoulders. Other than some muscle stiffness, nothing hurt, though he’d probably have bruises tomorrow.
