Black Friday

CHAPTER 60

Nick had been punching buttons back in the video surveillance room, trying to follow the sequence Jerry Yarden had taught him, when he got Maggie's call. Moments earlier he'd finally convinced Yarden to go home, be with his family, get some rest, although Nick imagined home for Yarden was a small studio apartment and his family probably a cat, maybe two cats. He tried to hide his surprise when Yarden—humble but proud—opened his wallet to show Nick his family: a beautiful brunette, three handsome boys and a small white fluff-ball of a dog on his wife's lap. Nick hadn't even been right about the cat.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Yarden's parting words, accompanied by a glance at the panel of keyboards and monitors. Nick wondered if Yarden worried about leaving Nick alone or leaving his surveillance equipment alone with Nick.

"I'll be fine. Go hug your wife and kids, Jerry. You did good, real good. If I need you, I'll call."

Nick had been feeling like there wasn't much more he could do. He was exhausted but he avoided going to his hotel room. Before he arrived in Minnesota he'd reserved a room at the same hotel that was now the command center, but he hadn't had a chance to get back there and even open his suitcase. He kept checking his watch. He had called his boss, Al Banoff, to give him an update. It was too late, or rather too early in the morning, to call Christine and check on his father.

So instead of his hotel room, Nick had gone back to the mall. He went back to the video surveillance room and started cueing up video segment after segment of the third bomber. He had the image of Patrick Murphy stamped into his mind now and he wanted to see if the third bomber, or the bomber's friend, could be Murphy. But in all the segments they had found, as soon as the two young men and woman got off the escalators onto the third floor, they disappeared into the food court and disappeared out of surveillance range.

Then Maggie called.

Okay, it was silly but he felt a new surge of adrenaline just hearing her voice. Having her ask for his help was a bonus. Inviting him to her hotel room…It was a case, he reprimanded himself. They were working a case—a horrendous, sad, scary case. So why did his heart start pounding a little faster? Why did the gusts of wind that bit and pulled at his coattail not chill him? As he entered the hotel lobby, after walking all the way from the mall, he stripped off his leather gloves to find his palms sweating. He actually had sweaty palms. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

He stopped at his own room to pick up his laptop computer, the one request Maggie had made of him. Once in his room, he shed his coat, took one look at himself in the mirror and continued to pull off his shoes and socks, trousers, shirt and tie. He would be a few minutes late, but he needed something to revive him. He needed a shower.