The Road toEmmaus VIII

"Erin," a voice said, "I'm Special Agent Dempsey. I need to ask you some questions."

"I've told you everything I can," she said.

"I'm with the FBI," he explained. "I know you've probably told everything to a lot of different people. Can you do something for me?"

She hesitated.

"I'm an expert on Domestic Terrorism," he continued. "The other people you spoke with gave me your report. I've read it. It's very informative. Could you try to describe from the minute before the explosion up until the ambulance arrived?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "Like I told Sherrif Marques, I was checking out. Just a few supplies for a nice dinner. A man walked in. I barely saw him. I don't know if he was carrying a bomb."

"He wasn't," Dempsey said.

"He wasn't?" she asked.

"No," he said. "This wasn't the type of bomb you could carry. The explosion was too large. It wasn't a nuclear device. Let's say that we know where the bomb went off, how it was detonated, and from where."

"Oh," she said.

"Did you see anyone sitting in a running vehicle on a cell phone on your way out?" he asked.

"No," she said, "I was looking at my groceries and loading my car."

"How often do you shop at Hennen's?" he asked.

"Once or twice a week," she said.

"What sections did you go to?" he asked.

"I always go to produce," she said, "Sometimes the butcher. Sometimes the Deli counter. I go to quite a few places in there. But I'm usually there for fresh vegetables. They had the best."

"You make your sauce from scratch, I hear," he said.

"I'm a bit compulsive about it," she admitted with a laugh.

"If I told you that you were three feet from the bomb, would that help your memory?" he asked. "We found bits of a crate there. Did you see a crate?"

"There's always crates," she said.

"Who brings them out?" he asked.

"They bring the in the front door," she said. "It's a local farm. Brayton's. I saw a Brayton's truck when I got out of my car. The tomatoes were really fresh that day."

"How long were you in the market?" he asked.

"Half an hour, tops," she said.

"Now," he said, "If you stop for a moment and think about the truck and the workers, did you see any crates being delivered? Make sure your certain either way."

"No," she said, "No. I think they were done."

"Did you know any of the empyees or owners of the store?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Do you know anyone connected to Brayton Farms?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Okay, Erin," he said, "I know this has been rough on you. Let me explain what's going to happen. You are going to receive a summons to Federal Court. I want to make things safe for you. That means you have to trust me. We're going to move you. We have doctors to continue your treatment, but we have to get you somewhere safe. Are there people you want to call to let them know?"

"Yes," she said. "I'll need to..."

"You can't," he said. "We will contact them for you. We know who and how. No one can know where we take you. They can't even be told we have you for a few days. Wait. Stop and think. They'll worry, but if we do it any other way, you're going to be killed."

Erin stopped breathing.

"In about five minutes there will be a group of agents taking you away from here. They won't speak to you," he paused. "I've read your chart. I need an honest answer. Are you fully blind?"

Erin tried not to sob. It burned her eyes. "I need to know," he said. "If you can see anything we have to blindfold you."

"Oh," she sighed. She shook.

"Erin?" he prompted.

"I'm blind," she said. The words came out bent and high pitched.

"I'm going to leave," he said, "but I will be at your new place when you get there. I'm sorry."

She cried. Her eyes burned like hell.