No one had actually told them the cause of the explosion, but they didn’t have to. Deep inside her gut, Emma knew the kid who’d delivered the package had actually handed her a bomb.
A freakingbomb.
And she’d put Jake and the others right in its path.
“Nothing about this is your fault,” Trace told her pointedly. His sharp gaze burned into hers as he added, “You were just doing your job.”
Damn, it was unsettling how well he could read her.
“I knew something was off.” Emma hugged herself. “Between the way the guy was acting, and the appearance of the package...Iknewsomething wasn’t right.” She swallowed the knot of guilt threatening to clog her throat. “I should’ve said something the second that kid left the office.”
“Did you open the box?” Eric asked.
She shook her head.
“Then Trace is right. The only one to blame is the person who handed you that bomb. There was no way you could’ve possibly known what was inside.”
Logically, Emma knew they were right.
She was the office manager. It was her job to accept Jake’s mail and put it on his desk. But today was different.
Today, Jake nearly died.
My brother and Mac could’ve died.
So, while Detective West’s and Trace’s supportive words were appreciated, but they did very little to appease the guilt she was feeling. Justified or not, it was going to take her a minute to process through everything without her emotions getting in the way.
With a tip of his chin, West said, “I know my brother and the rest of Alpha Team will be on this, but this case is now our number one priority, too. Whoever that guy is, we’ll find him. In the meantime, I’d suggest you stay as close to Miss Cooper as possible.”
Wait. What?
“Is that really necessary?” Emma’s gaze bounced between the two men. “It’s pretty obvious Jake was the target.”
“Maybe.” Detective West looked back at her. “Either way, you’re a witness. You saw the bomber. Youspoketo him. That means, if this thing goes to trial, you’re the one the prosecutor will call in to testify against him.”
“Which means you could be a target.” Trace’s hardened stare bore into hers.
Damn. These two sure didn’t pull any punches.
For the next several minutes, Emma did her best not to let the fear their words had created take over. Thankfully, the focus soon turned away from her and onto Trace.
Once he gave his official statement of the events as he’d experienced them, along with the name of the hotel where he was staying, Detective West pulled out his wallet and handed her and Trace a card.
“I think that’s all I have, for now.” He slid his wallet back into his pocket. “That’s my direct number within the department. If you think of anything else, even something small, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thanks.” Emma offered the man a small smile.
With a parting handshake to Trace and then her, Detective West turned and walked away.
Standing in the cold, white room, she thought about what they’d said. About the possibility of her testifying. How she could also be a target.
Chills raced down her spine, making her hug herself even tighter. Knowing she could be on some psycho’s radar was the perfect topping to her shitty morning sundae.
“They won’t get to you.”
The deep, unwavering promise came from the man standing beside her.
There was a fierceness behind his eyes. One that scared her almost as much as the idea that someone could come after her did.