Under the Microscope by Jessica Andersen Page B

urged her toward the doors, away from the destruction. “The professionals are here. Let them deal with it.”
    She saw firefighters and a group of paramedics followed by beefy men carrying power tools. Even as they descended upon the wreck of her life, the building shifted with an ominous groan.
    “Out.” Max sent her toward the door with an unceremonious shove. “Now.”
    She half hoped he would stay behind, giving her a few moments without his too judgmental presence. Instead he remained close as she exited the office and followed a stream of evacuees from other floors, down the winding stairwell to the parking lot.
    It was daylight. Sunny. Pretty. The sky was blue and patches of snow were melting. It looked like any other day. How could things seem so normal out here when the situation was so incredibly not normal?
    “Raine.” Max touched her arm, voice subdued. “I’m sorry for what I said up there. I was out of line.”
    “Yes, you were.” She lifted her chin, refusing to let the hurt show.
    “I apologize.”
    The honest regret in his eyes eased something deep inside her. She slanted him a look. “Does that mean you’re back to thinking I planned all this on my own?”
    He grimaced. “I’m not—”
    “Ms. Montgomery,” Detective Marcus interrupted, appearing at her side with Agent Bryce in tow. “I’d like to have a few words with you.”
    Max ranged himself at her shoulder. “Detective,” he said. “You got here quickly.”
    “I was in the neighborhood,” Marcus said, nohint of humor in his expression to acknowledge that he’d left the office no more than thirty minutes before it was destroyed. “I’d like you to come to the station.”
    “So I’ve graduated to being questioned at the station,” Raine said, tears and smoke turning her voice husky. “That either means you believe I’m responsible for all this, or you think I’m a target.”
    “I don’t think there’s any question of that, Ms. Montgomery,” the detective said, giving no hint which side of the fence he stood on. He gestured to a plain sedan. “If you’ll come with me?”
    Though it bordered on leaning, Raine glanced up at Max. He nodded slightly. “Go ahead. I’ll follow in your car.”
    Swallowing tears of fear and humiliation, she climbed into the sedan and sat in the back like a criminal.
    Alone.
     
    WHEN MAX ENTERED the police station later that afternoon, he was armed with more questions than answers.
    Or rather, the answers he had were ones he didn’t like. Not one bit.
    He followed the desk officer’s directions up a short flight of stairs to a wide hallway. Closed doors marched in rows on either side, fake woodpanels that made the off-gray paint on the walls look dingy.
    At the end of the hall, Raine sat on a stiff-looking wooden bench, looking gray herself, though not dingy. Her clothes were badly wrinkled and streaked with plaster dust, and her hair had mostly sagged from its habitual twist atop her head.
    Max paused mid-stride as the sight of her reached inside him and grabbed at something. His heart, maybe, or even deeper than that. Damn her for being so beautiful, he thought. Damn him for being a sucker. He forced himself to keep walking when part of him wanted to head down the stairs and never look back. But that would be running away, and that was her routine, not his.
    Never his.
    “Have you been waiting long?” he asked, his voice coming out deeper than he’d intended.
    She shook her head. “A few minutes. I was gathering my strength to call a cab.”
    He scowled and snapped, “No cabs. No going out alone. Not until we figure out who’s after you, what they want and how we can stop them. Got it?”
    He halfway expected her to leap up and get in his face, reminding him she was the boss, she was in charge. Instead, a worried pinch developed at the corners of her eyes. “So you do believe I’m not the villain here. What do you know that I don’t?”
    He’d thought about shielding her from