“How’d you know?”

“They’re awfully proud of that ankle holster. Never miss a chance to let you know they’re packing. ”

The deputy looks at Callie and Joe Penny, then back at me. “Who are you guys?”

“Homeland Security. And before you go all FBI on me again, you should know that the droppings in my parakeet cage outrank Agent Phillips. He and the Feebs can take their photos and soil samples and core borings and all the other cluster fuck bullshit we pay them to do. If they stay out of my way, I’ll even let them take the credit for solving the case. But the three of us are here to determine two things: Was this a terrorist act? And if so, is the country in danger?”

“You think it is?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

He looks like he’s about to trust us. Then a funny look crosses his face. He says, “You’re not reporters, are you?”

“Do we look like reporters?”

“You look like movie stars. You and her, anyway.”

Joe Penny says, “Not me?”

Callie says, “Mr. Creed already told you we’re with Homeland Security. Up to now, we’ve been polite. But you need to let us do our jobs.”

The deputy looks skeptical. “Do you have any credentials?”

I briefly consider killing him, but he’s a young guy, just doing his job. I respect that. But I can tell Callie’s itching to snuff him, so I ask her to show him our paperwork. She does, and he finally turns and starts trotting back to his post. Callie, Joe, and I head south, to the blast site. As we begin picking our way through the rubble, FBI Agent Tyson Phillips shouts, “Halt! Do not take another step!”

Callie says, “I’ll get this.”

She peeks into her handbag, then strolls over to him, shows him our paperwork. Unfortunately, he’s having none of it, so she kicks him in the nuts, clubs the back of his neck, and he goes down face first. She puts a knee in the center of his back, pulls his arms toward her, and handcuffs him with two plastic zip ties. He starts hollering his disapproval, so she rolls him over and knocks him unconscious. Then removes his shoes and socks and stuffs the socks in his mouth and tapes his lips shut. While waiting for him to regain consciousness, she tapes his ankles together.

Then she walks back to where we’re standing and says, “That ought to hold him.”

“What type of tape did you use?”

“Filament.”

Joe says, “Are we gonna get in trouble for this?”

“Probably,” I say. “But it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t going to give us access, and Callie saved him from getting shot.”

“You would’ve shot him?”

“He probably would have shot himself, trying to grab his gun. But yeah, I would’ve shot him. If this is the first wave of a terrorist attack we need to put jets in the air.