Page 22 of Love Bomb

Oh, he was adorable. But she needed to keep him on track.

“So, you guys still use dynamite?” Be casual, Rona!

“Oh no,” Conall said, shattering her dreams of finding something simple and familiar lying around Bain’s lab that she could use to bring down the folly. “It’s far too unstable. It leaks as it ages, causing all sorts of problems. There are much safer, and cheaper options on the market now.”

“Like what?” she asked, wishing she was writing all this down.

“Nitrate-based explosives,” he said. “But don’t ask me to explain them, I’m way out of my depth here already.”

A memory tickled the back of Rona’s brain. “Are we talking about the stuff in fertilizer?”

“Pretty much,” Conall said. “Bain uses it in powder form with some gel stuff added to it…like I said, don’t ask me.” He glanced at the bar where Dougal was gesturing that his food was waiting. “I’d better go, or dinner will get cold.” He climbed out of his seat and reached for his coat. “Nice catching up with you, Rona.”

“You too,” she said, meaning it. “And please, don’t go telling Bain about all my questions. I don’t want him to think I still have a crush on him. I was just curious.”

“Don’t worry,” he said as he shrugged into his coat. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As he walked away, Rona grabbed her iPad and started making notes. Once she’d written down everything she could remember, she looked up nitrate explosives and scrolled through the images. She grinned. Now, she would recognize them when she saw them.

When she was done, she relaxed back into her chair with a satisfied smile. Finally, she knew what she needed to get the job done. And thanks to Conall, she knew just where to find everything. Now all she had to do was come up with a plan to break into Bain’s lab.

She reached for her iPad again, opened her browser, and started searching how to bypass an alarm system.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I think I know why Rona’s so keen to blow up the folly,” Kade said.

Bain glanced up from the sofa where he sat watching the rest of the cheese documentary.

“Her motivation is no secret,” he said. “The folly is more important to her parents than she is, and she’s pissed off about it. She wants to make them pay.”

“See, here’s the thing,” Kade said as he sat on one of the other sofas and rested his laptop on his knees. “Rona doesn’t strike me as the type for petty revenge.”

“They forgot about her.” Bain felt anger build again. “Twice. The second time she ended up in state care.” Because he hadn’t been there to watch her back. “There’s nothing petty about that. Who knows what else they did over the years. That couple could be the poster parents for neglect.”

Kade’s jaw tightened. “Okay, didn’t know about the second time, but have to say, I would have still done some digging. There’s something about this whole thing that doesn’t add up and it didn’t take me long to find out what.”

“Are you going to spit it out, or just keep teasing me with this newfound knowledge of yours?”

“Fine. I spent the day digging into the history of the folly,” Kade said solemnly, “and I came across an interesting fact. When old Mack Dalgliesh built the thing, he was worried his descendants wouldn’t care for his legacy, so he tied it to an inheritance.”

Okay, Bain wasn’t expecting that. He switched off the documentary and sat forward in his seat, feeling the old sofa springs move under him. “What kind of inheritance?”

“He put aside money for the folly’s care, and included a stipend for whoever took on the job.”

“Like paying for a caretaker?” Bain asked.

“Aye, just like that. Only, the big stone tower doesn’t need any care, does it? And when the local historical society was formed, they took over maintenance, such as it is. As far as I can tell, all they do is chase out the pigeons and wash the bricks down now and then.”

“They renovated it a few years ago. I remember Caroline raising money for it. It was around the same time they put the glass in the top.”

Kade grinned. “And ruined a perfectly good Guy Fawkes treat for the whole town.”

Bain had to agree. He’d been particularly proud of their efforts. It hadn’t been easy setting the fireworks off high enough inside the building, so they’d go through the hole in the top and shoot straight up into the sky. His first couple of attempts had failed miserably. Rockets had bounced off the inside walls, nearly setting Conall on fire. Good times…

“Why didn’t the historical society use the trust fund for the renovations?” Bain asked.

“I don’t think they even know the money exists.”