When She Wasn't Looking by Helenkay Dimon

trying to act like you belong.”
    “So Stimpson was dirty.” The idea shouldn’t have surprised her. She’d dealt with lazy cops and more than a few guys in power who seemed to despise women. But she’d hoped for better here, had the naive belief that sort of corruption wouldn’t happen in a small town on the edge of nowhere.
    “He wouldn’t be the first bad cop in history.”
    The disgust in Jonas’s voice mirrored the anger in her heart. “Interesting.”
    He pocketed his phone. “What?”
    “The way you got all low and grumbly there for a second.”
    “I didn’t—”
    “And if you hold on to those keys any tighter you’re going to draw blood.”
    He opened his palm and stared at the rough indents on his palm.
    “Have some experience with crooked officers?” she asked.
    He hesitated long enough that his voice boomed and she jumped when he finally started talking. “Most of the people on the streets, the true law-enforcement professionals who sweat and bleed the beat each day, are solid. They do their jobs. Risk their lives. Don’t ask for medals.”
    Like him. After such a short time, that was the definition she’d use to describe Jonas.
    “I know plenty of guys who sit behind a desk and give orders. They dictate the rules of battle without ever fighting one,” he said.
    Desperate to hear him talk, to catch a glimpse into the man behind the fully together one in front of her, she resisted saying anything until the quiet pounded in on her. “And?”
    “People die.”
    It was everything he didn’t say that mattered. “People you know?”
    “Yeah.” He dangled the keys in front of her. “These are for you.”
    The air had changed. The crackle of electricity vanished in a poof and she knew the “show me yours” moment had passed.
    She sighed. “Let me guess. My job is to wait out here.”
    “In the car with the engine running.”
    “Where will you be?”
    “Up there.” He nodded toward Stimpson’s front door before looking over his shoulder at the sedan again. “The guy in that car is one of Walt’s men. He’s watching the place to see if Stimpson comes back.”
    “I’m confused about this plan.”
    Jonas shrugged. “I’m just looking in some windows.”
    “Guess that means you don’t have a warrant.”
    “Walt is getting it. He’ll be here any minute.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Oh, good. And I thought you were running off without backup again.”
    For a second the tight pull of tension across his mouth disappeared and he laughed. “Only a crazy man would do that.” Amusement echoed in every word.
    “I had the same thought.”
    Jonas winked at her, then waved to the officer in the car. He headed for the stairs on the left side of the building. He hit the bottom one before she decided helping him look in a few windows couldn’t put her in danger.
    She’d barely raised her leg when the ground shook beneath her. A deafening crash thundered through the sky and rattled in her ears. Her knees buckled as the pavement bounced and shifted.
    One minute she saw Jonas’s shirt. The next he flew backward as the railing in his hand broke free and the stairs blew apart. She tried to call his name but no words came out. Smoke choked the air and glass rained from above.
    Car alarms exploded in unison with chirping sounds. People screamed and a baby cried. The roar of drums sounded all around her.
    She hit her knees and threw her hands over her head. Sharp pricks assaulted her bare skin as she hid her face. She didn’t know she’d held her breath until her chest burned and she started coughing.
    Her eyes itched and watered as if the smoke had worked its way under her contacts, but the raging heat had her full attention. Fire danced all around her. Flames engulfed the top floor of the complex except in the black hole in the middle. Papers flew around. Pieces of furniture littered the ground. And the sedan with Walt’s provided protection burned.
    The thumping of her heart and rush of the