The Love You Crave

2.

As I jump to my feet to survey the damage below, I quickly conclude the building beneath me is collateral damage. Based on my knowledge of where the woman had been sitting moments earlier, and seeing only the remnants of her ass there now, it’s clear she’d been wired with explosives.

Which makes her a homeland terrorist.

I press the button that speed-dials Callie.

“Where are you?” she says.

“Corner of Landmark and Trace. Heading north on Landmark, right side of the street. Make it fast!”

“Give me two minutes.”

I hang up, check the street below me, and notice several structures have been decimated.

But why?

I mean, why here? Why now? Nothing in the immediate area remotely resembles a terrorist target.

I’d love to investigate the scene, try to work it out, but within minutes the cops will be swarming the area, and I need to be long gone by then. Whatever role the driver of the white van played in all this, I doubt he’s planning to hang around to deal with me. I carefully work my way down the back side of the building, thankful the blast hasn’t done too much damage.

A couple minutes later I’m in the passenger side of Callie’s black Mercedes CL65 AMG.

“Sweet car,” I say.

“You’re not bleeding, right?” she says.

“Not that I know of.”

She turns right, makes the block, begins heading back to her place. Says, “If I knew you were this filthy, I’d have stolen a car.”

“Sorry. I was lying on something nasty just now.”

“You really need to upgrade your taste in women.”

“I was talking about a nasty rooftop.”

“Still.”

I sigh. “There was a woman, though.”

“Of course there was,” Callie says. Then adds, “What happened to her?”

“You know how some people in Vegas lose their heads, and some lose their asses?”

“Yeah?”

“She lost both.”