A little affection? If she only knew, Kate thought. Affection had reached a whole new plateau in Boston.

Kate joined the men and apologized for making them wait, but neither seemed to have noticed. They were busy sharing war stories about their departments.

Hallinger had spread his notes on the coffee table.

"Nate was telling me the FBI and ATF are both involved in the investigation now, which is no big surprise," Dylan said.

"And that means it's a real circus downtown," Nate said. "Each agency wants to run the show. They're all stepping on each other's toes, and more are on their way."

"And no one wants to share information until they've finished their reports," Dylan interjected.

Kate knew Dylan was simplifying the situation, but still, so many people thinking they were in charge complicated the situation and made the detective's job much more difficult. Assuming he was still part of the investigation.

"Where does that put you, Detective?" she asked.

"I guess you could say I'm at the bottom of the food chain," he answered, smiling. "And please, call me Nate."

She nodded. "What will you do?" she asked.

"My job."

"This is his investigation no matter how many agencies get involved," Dylan added.

The two men had quickly become allies, and Kate thought she understood why. Their jobs put them in the trenches and in the line of fire, and neither one of them appreciated outsiders coming into their neighborhoods and taking over. It seemed to be a territorial thing.

"The FBI's going to give me the most trouble," Nate remarked. "They're all arrogant know-it-alls."

Kate looked at Dylan to see how he was reacting to Nate's comments. He was smiling.

"Did you mention to Nate that you have two brothers who are FBI agents?"

Nate flinched. "No kidding. Look, I'm sorry I…"

Dylan put his hand up. "It's okay. Nick and Alec are both arrogant know-it-alls on occasion."

"What do you know so far? Are there any leads? Any suspects?" she asked.

"It's already been determined that the explosive was placed inside a basket of flowers. The investigators can usually pinpoint the origin of the explosion," he explained. "The basket was on the ground in front of a table toward the back of the tent. Your table," he added matter-of-factly.

Kate didn't show any outward reaction to the news. She simply nodded. "I remember the flowers. They were beautiful. I didn't see who delivered them," she added, knowing that was Nate's next question. "I went inside the gallery for just a few minutes, and when I came back to the tent, there they were."

"I just drove back from the airport," Nate said. "I offered to pick up this hotshot expert named Sutherland. He leads the eastern national response team," he explained. "Which is actually part of the ATF. As it turns out, he's a real decent guy. He gave me some useful information. This is all off the record because he'll still go through the site with trained dogs and whatever else it takes, but he told me he knows who it is. He said he's been after this guy for a long time."

"He knows who the bomber is?" Kate felt an instant of relief.

"His signature," he corrected. "He knows his signature."

She didn't know what he was talking about. She looked at Dylan, and he quickly explained. "Every bomber has a signature. They're creatures of habit," he said. "Maybe it's the materials he uses, always the same, or maybe as in this case, where he hides it. This guy likes to hide the explosive in a basket, sometimes more than one."

"Flower baskets," Nate interjected. "They call him the Florist."

"Lovely," she whispered.

"He likes to blow things up in a big way. He's partial to buildings, but he's done cars and houses. The thing is, no one's ever inside. He seems to go to great lengths to avoid hurting anyone."

"Until now," Dylan said.

Nate glanced at Dylan who nodded and then said to Kate, "You've got a good fire department in this little town. They know what they're doing, and one of them noticed the similarities and called Charleston PD to find out who was in charge of the Charleston investigation. That's when I found out you were at the warehouse.

"No easy way to say it," Nate said. "Someone tampered with the gas line, but Kate, that wasn't enough to cause the damage done. We checked it out and discovered it was-"

She realized at that moment what he was telling her. "Another bomb," she finished.

"Yes, and you're the only connection between the two," Hallinger answered. He could see the bewilderment in her eyes. "So now we're wondering… who wants you dead?"

They gave her a couple of minutes to absorb the information. Nate was relieved she wasn't falling apart. He hadn't thought she was the type to become hysterical, and he was right. On the surface she was calm and in control.

Kate was screaming inside. She was thinking about the mess her life was in on every possible level, and said, "I don't need this now."

Dylan smiled. "When exactly is it a good time to get blown up?"

She realized how crazy her comment was. "I didn't mean… oh, never mind."

"We're early into the investigation," Nate said. "And the leads could take us in a hundred different directions, but for your safety, we have to assume that you're the target and take the necessary precautions."

"What do you suggest?"

Nate looked at Dylan. "How long are you here?"

"For as long as it takes."

"Okay then."

"I'll need a weapon."

"I know. I'll clear it with Bob Drummond, the chief of police here in Silver Springs. He'll check you out, of course, and he'll want to talk to you. I'll warn you, he's tough, and because he's getting ready to retire, he doesn't care who he offends. He'll give us a hard time, but-"

"Wait a minute," Kate said. She felt like the world had just gone into warp speed. "This is crazy."

Nate turned back to her. "Can you think of anyone who has a vendetta against you? Is there anyone who would profit if you were out of the picture, like a partner in your company?"

"I don't have a partner. I do have life insurance, but my sisters are the beneficiaries. The face value is quite small. The only person I can think of who would like to get rid of me is Reece Crowell."

Nate nodded. "Dylan told me about him."

"This has to be a mistake," she said. "I've been away for almost a year, and I just got home. I haven't been here long enough to make enemies."

Kate's back was beginning to throb. She had been sitting on the edge of the easy chair, too nervous to relax. Dylan didn't seem to be having any trouble, though. He looked very comfortable with his arm draped over the back of the sofa and his ankle crossed over his knee.

"Who owned the warehouse?" Dylan asked.

"I'm told it's a corporation," Nate answered. "I don't have names yet." He asked Kate, "How did you find out about it?"

"A Realtor called me. She showed me several spaces, but that warehouse was perfect for my needs."

"How'd the Realtor know you were looking for a bigger space?" Dylan asked.

"Carl Bertolli suggested she call me."

"That's interesting," Dylan said.

"He asked you to get to the reception early," Nate said. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes," she said. "No, wait. Actually my aunt Nora took a phone message, and I just assumed it was from Carl, but now that I think about it, that can't be right because when I arrived and was walking toward the tent, Carl called me on my cell phone and asked if I would please hurry and help set up. He seemed surprised that I was already there."

"He could be checking to make sure she was there," Nate told Dylan.

"Did you interview him?"

"Sure did," he said. "And let me tell you, that was no easy job. He's quite emotional."