Chapter 47
FBI Agent Leona Edwards was seething as the bomb squad continued working on pulling the cover off whatever was hidden on the bottom of the table in the Cooks Network studio.
They’d taken hours to arrive. Then for three hours, not counting a long lunch break, the studio had been off limits.
While they were waiting, they’d interviewed the studio techs, cameramen, even the chef’s girlfriend. Net gain of zero knowledge.
Big applause.
A small double bang.
One dead chef.
The two table-leg bombs had barely cut through the thin aluminum. The bomb boys were treating the box under the table as if it could level the whole damn building.
Blast pads were brought in. The floors immediately above and below were evacuated. A robot carrying a screw gun had finally slithered forward to o
