Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 by Debra Cowan, Susan Sleeman, Mary Ellen Porter

in serious trouble.
    Cash couldn’t sleep without knowing. He grabbed his laptop and navigated to the station’s website, where he found the video from tonight’s broadcast. He started Parsons’s story playing and sat back to watch. The camera panned the stadium as the relentless reporter announced Krista’s full name.
    Great. Just as Cash suspected. The bomber could easily know her identity. Question was, could he find her address from that piece of information alone?
    Cash assumed the house was in Otto’s name. His fingers flew over the keyboard and a quick search of property records confirmed his assumption. Still, the bomber couldn’t access databases restricted to law enforcement and retrieve the information as fast as Cash. The bomber would only have the internet at his disposal. So what exactly would he find?
    Cash plugged Krista Curry into a search engine. After an hour of searching, only one link led to her, showing she’d worked in a home child-care center in Kennesaw, Georgia.
    Odd.
In today’s social media world, he should have located far more information about her. She’d obviously worked hard to keep her private life private. Maybe because of whatever she seemed to be hiding.
    Cash might want to know her secret, but her caution meant he didn’t need to worry if the media or the bomber could easily find her.
    A shadowy image of the man she’d described, hunkering down in the thick bushes outside her secluded home, flashed into his mind. Cash had been cautious on the way to Otto’s house, but he couldn’t guarantee the bomber hadn’t tailed them. That the creep wasn’t outside their home right now. Krista and Opa alone.
    Unprotected.
    â€œNot on my watch,” he said and retrieved his gun from the safe. He locked his condo and took the stairs leading to the first-floor common area. A light burning in the shared kitchen had him hesitating. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
    He loved living here, but privacy? Unheard of in the firehouse. Still, he was thankful for the free living quarters. A woman grateful to Darcie for saving her life had donated the place to the county for the FRS members. They each had a private condo on the second and third floors. The first floor was a communal space with a kitchen and dining, family and game rooms.
    Trouble was, with their crazy shifts, someone was almost always up. He should have thought of that, as he doubted whoever was awake would support his plan.
    He started back up the steps to take the back exit.
    â€œHey, man.” Brady’s voice came from the first floor. He wore a freshly pressed county uniform, indicating he was heading out for a patrol shift. “Thought I heard someone out here. You headed out?”
    Cash couldn’t very well turn back now. He jogged down the steel stairs.
    Holding a thick sandwich, Brady leaned against a metal post and crossed his ankles. “Where’re you off to?”
    Cash considered evading the question or outright lying, but he didn’t abide lying. He wouldn’t start now. “Thought I’d check on Krista and Otto.”
    Brady’s eyebrow went up, but he didn’t say anything, just swung his foot and watched.
    â€œI know what you’re thinking,” Cash said.
    Brady smirked. “You do, do you?”
    â€œIt’s written all over your face. You think I’m going over there because I’ve got a thing for Krista.”
    â€œAren’t you?” Brady chomped a bite from his sandwich.
    â€œI’m going because Parsons mentioned her name in his broadcast and the bomber might have located her.”
    â€œAnd that’s your only motivation?”
    Cash thought to deny that his motivations were mixed, but why bother? He and Brady might be able to keep stuff from the others, but with their military backgrounds, they often thought alike and couldn’t successfully hide things from each other.
    Cash