“There’s something under your seat, yes,” he hedged.
“But is it a bomb?”
“I don’t know for sure, but—”
Alyssa sucked in a breath and had the deepest urge to grab the man by the collar of his shirt. “You answer me right now, Deputy Foster. Do you think there’s a bomb beneath my seat or not?”
He seemed surprised by her outburst, but who could blame her?
This time the deputy didn’t hedge.
“Yes,” he said. “I do. Which is why I need you to keep calm until we can deal with this. Okay?”
Despite his answer Alyssa decided to panic. Or, at least, her body did. The heavy air in the car, the heat of the day and the sheer thought of having survived a gunshot to the back only to be blown up in a parking lot were all too much to take. Her heartbeat wasn’t just galloping anymore—it was full-out trying to exceed the speed of light. Its pursuit was having a chain reaction on what was left of her calm. Her breathing was no longer erratic. It was rushed, clumsy and impossible to conquer. It was starting to make her vision blur.
The urge to swipe her glasses off and completely freak was escalating. She wanted to try to scramble out of the car and escape the heat and fear that were tripling at an alarming rate. If the deputy hadn’t been between Alyssa and the door, she might have attempted an escape plan.
But the deputy was there.
And his eyes were enough to hold her in place long enough for his words to reach her.
“Alyssa,” he said, moving as close to her as he could without making contact. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve handled a lot worse than this.” His lips quirked up into a grin. “All you have to do right now is sit still, okay? You think you can handle just sitting?”
The way he said the last part, like he was looking down on her for her worry, made something snap within her. Like he was the parent and she was a child who was being ridiculous. She took a deep breath, exhaled and took another one before she answered.
“Yes, Deputy,” she said with a little too much attitude. “I think I can handle it.”
Deputy Foster’s grin grew.
It made her feel better. If only for a moment.
“I’m going to take a few pictures and then I’m going to make a lot of calls,” he said.
“You aren’t going to leave, are you?” she asked, already panicked at the thought.
The deputy shook his head. “I want you to know one thing for certain, Miss Garner. I will not leave you.”
Alyssa hadn’t realized how good that promise would sound.
But, boy, did it sound good!
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES.
That was all it took for all hell to break loose.
True to his word, the deputy had made several phone calls after he snapped a picture of the maybe-but-probably bomb. He’d done it far enough from the car so that she couldn’t hear what was said—no doubt, his intention—but not far enough that Alyssa felt alone. Because, also true to his word, he didn’t leave her.
Not even when the bomb squad showed up and confirmed the maybe-but-probably bomb was in fact a probably-and-definitely bomb. Though the head of the squad, a towering man named Charlie, encouraged the deputy to clear the area while they assessed options.
Options.
That was a word that might have brought Alyssa a sense of hope, or even fear, if she wasn’t baking alive. The day had gone from hot to hell and she was stuck in a vacuum of it. She no longer had the energy to panic. All of that had left her body in waves of sweat, adhering every article of clothing she was wearing to her like a second skin.
And yet the deputy kept coming back.
Along with Charlie, who was now suited up with a helmet and clear mask in front of his face to boot. He lifted it to address Alyssa directly.
“Miss Garner, how are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” she lied.
Deputy Foster raised his eyebrow.
“Alyssa, how are you doing?” he repeated with a tone that reminded her of a parent. She managed a defeated sigh.
“I think I might pass out soon,” she admitted. “It’s getting really hard to breathe.”
If this alarmed the deputy, he didn’t show it. In fact, neither man did. Which meant she probably looked as bad as she felt and they had been expecting it. The cold water she’d had through a straw hadn’t been enough. Just like the fan that had been set up next to the car. It had only pushed the heat toward her. In no way did it alleviate the temperature she was currently suffering through.
“Then why don’t we get you out of here?” Charlie said.
“That would be nice,” she responded. Picturing a bathtub filled with ice cubes with her name on it. Forget about citrus bath salts.
A man she didn’t recognize walked up to the car and cleared his throat.
“Can I have a moment, sir?” he asked Charlie.
He nodded, flashed a quick smile to Alyssa and then walked off. Again, she couldn’t hear what was discussed, but the movement brought attention to the far end of the parking lot. It was being cleared. The staff from the courthouse, and even some people from the sheriff’s department next door, were moving farther away.
Alyssa looked back at Deputy Foster. She realized he was wearing a bomb vest. “So, do they think they can really get me out of here?”
The deputy followed her gaze to his vest. He straightened it and then lowered himself to meet her stare head-on.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I don’t know them personally, but the sheriff and Captain Jones both say Charlie and his team are the best in the South.” He cut another grin. “And they think they’re going to get you out of this with all limbs attached, so I’m going to bet on a yes.”
Alyssa gave the smallest of nods. Her vision was starting to blur a little. She tried to pull in a calming breath. The air was so wet she felt like she was drowning.
“Hey, listen to me,” he continued, tone tough. Stern. “When they get you out of here, how about I take you out for a nice jug of sweet tea? That’s something you guys seem to like around here, right? Sweet tea?”
Despite everything, Alyssa snorted.
“You must be from up north,” she muttered, each word strained.
She watched as his look of concern seemed to grow. Then, altogether, he began to blur.
“Alyssa,” he said, voice raised. “All you have to do is sit still. You got that?”
“I’m trying,” she defended. To her own ears she sounded breathless. And not in that sexy Scarlett O’Hara way.
Charlie swam back into view a few seconds later. His mask was down now. He turned to the deputy. “I guess if your captain and sheriff can’t make you leave, then I shouldn’t try either.”
The deputy shook his head. At least, that was what Alyssa thought he did. Either way, when Charlie was addressing her, Deputy Foster was still there.
It was comforting.
“Okay, Miss Garner, I’m going to very slowly try to replace your weight with this metal plate,” he said, already going into the back seat, the only way to reach the bomb. Which made her a little happier, considering she didn’t think her floorboard could accommodate the big man like it had the deputy. “When we’ve done that successfully, then Deputy Foster here will