Page 30 of Love Bomb

She looked at the can. Was it the wrong kind of hairspray? Too much perfume, maybe. She placed it on the snow beside her and experimentally waved an arm inside the door.

Nothing happened.

So, she inched inside.

Bain couldn’t breathe from laughing.

He’d managed to hold it together until the hairspray came out, but that was just too much. Part of him wished they’d installed some red laser lights in his shed, just so he could have watched Rona do gymnastics to get through them.

“Are we recording this?” Conall said, slapping his thigh. “I need to watch it again.”

All Darach could do was nod while he gasped for air. The view changed to the camera feed inside the shed, which Rona hadn’t bothered to check for either.

“What’s she doing now?” Kade asked, his voice strained.

Rona had gone straight to the only door in the room, a built-in closet where Bain kept some equipment. She threw it open before stomping her feet in frustration.

“Bloody typical,” she snapped. “He probably pees outside like a freaking neanderthal.”

“She’s looking for a toilet,” Kade howled.

“You just had to go and drink the coffee,” Rona snapped at herself as she stalked back to the shed door. “All of the coffee. Yeah, that was a smart move. Now you need to pee in the middle of an op.”

“Did she just say, ‘middle of an op’?” Conall could barely speak.

Bain wiped at his eyes as Rona stomped back out into the snow and off camera.

“I think she’s going in a bush,” Darach managed to get out.

There was a high-pitched scream from the TV.

“I think she sat in the snow,” Kade said.

It was too much. Bain clutched his sides as muscle spasms hit. She was going to kill him.

“Note to self,” Rona muttered as she fastened her jeans. “Never again pee in the snow.”

Could you get frostbite on your backside or did that only happen to fingers and toes? She wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to find out. Nothing was going right, and this break-in was taking far too much time.

At least the alarm hadn’t gone off, which meant she’d done a good job cutting the cables. Here’s hoping that finding the actual explosives would be just as simple.

She fought her way back through the snow and into the shed. Now that she had time to properly look around, she noticed it was surprisingly clean and organized. And it was much more than a shed. It’d clearly been insulated, and a polished wooden floor had been laid. It was a functioning office and mini lab.

There was a large stainless-steel bench with chemistry equipment set up on it. Not so much a mad scientist’s lair, but a clinical area where a knowledgeable expert would work. There was a desk with a computer, a couple of whiteboards pinned to the wall, and a filing cabinet beside the desk. She headed for the storage cupboards lined up against one wall and opened each in turn.

To her dismay there wasn’t anything inside that screamed explosives. She’d been hoping for some clear labelling, a skull and crossbones, or danger warnings. There was nothing. Taking up most of one shelf was a Perspex lockbox with chemicals inside, but she recognized most of them from high school chemistry and they wouldn’t blow up the folly.

“Oh, come on, Bain, where are the explosives?” she said as she headed for the desk.

With numb fingers she opened the top drawer and stopped dead. Because lying on top of a pile of neatly stacked notebooks was a framed photo. She pulled it out and stared at it.

It showed her and Bain. They were on his motorbike, and she was plastered against his back, her arms wrapped tight around him. She wore the stupid pink helmet he’d bought for her, and it clashed with her frizzy orange hair. She’d never looked prouder. Of course, Bain exuded cool in his black leather jacket and faded jeans. It was as though James Dean had taken Annie for a ride.

She traced her fingertips over their smiling faces. It had been a good day. One of her best. Darach took the photo just before Bain had started the bike and they’d sped down the road. They’d driven through the hills for hours, the sun on their faces, and the future sparkling bright.

It was the first time she’d thought Bain might see her as something more than just a kid. Or worse, a fake kid sister. She’d dreamed that day. Big dreams. The kind only a kid could have. Dreams of her and Bain and happily ever after. Of course, that was before she’d learned that happily ever after was a myth, and that everyone always left you in the end.

Her throat tightened as she carefully put the photo back in the drawer and softly closed it.