Chapter 312
Chapter 312:
“Stop it right there,” Chen said, her heart pounding in her chest. “Zoom in on her face.”
The tech hit some keys, and the image got bigger. The woman had turned slightly toward the camera as she left, giving them a glimpse of her face.
“Make it brighter,” Chen said, barely breathing. “And sharpen the contrast.”
As the image cleared, Chen felt a jolt run through her body. Even with the cap and uniform, she knew that face. She’d spent weeks burning it into her memory, studying every line and curve.
Rose Lewis.
“It’s her,” Chen whispered, then louder, “It’s her! We’ve got her on camera planting the bomb.”
The tech nodded. “We have her on other cameras too. Same woman, different bombs.”
Chen grabbed her phone and called her partner with shaking hands. “Morgan, it’s Chen. We’ve got her. Clear video of Rose Lewis planting at least four bombs. It’s definitely her.”
She listened for a moment, then hung up. “Print everything,” she told the tech. “I need pictures from every angle. And send me all the video files right now.”
An hour later, Chen stood in the FBI office’s meeting room. Pictures from the cameras covered the walls. Agents crowded around as she pointed to the clearest photo—Rose Lewis attaching a bomb to a column near the hotel kitchen.
“This is who did it,” Chen said, her voice hard with anger and relief. “Rose Lewis, 28 years old. The adopted sister of Camille Kane. She has a history of twisting the truth and harboring hatred for both Camille and Victoria Kane.”
Agent Morgan stepped up beside her. “We also have Herod Preston’s statement linking her to planning the bombing. And we found bomb-making materials in a storage unit she rented under a fake name.”
“So we have why she did it, how she did it, and now proof she did it,” the field director summed up. “Where is she now?”
“We don’t know,” Chen admitted, frustration making her chest tight. “The last time anyone saw her was near the hotel right after the first explosion. We think she stayed to watch what she’d done.”
“People like this often do that,” Morgan added. “They want to see the pain they caused.”
The field director looked at the photos, his face dark with worry. “This was an attack that killed six innocent people and hurt over forty more. We need to find her. Now.”
“We’ve already frozen her bank accounts,” Chen said, counting off on her fingers. “Flagged her passport and ID. Put alerts at all airports, train stations, and borders.”
“Not enough,” the director cut in. “We need to go public. Full media coverage. I want her face on every TV and phone screen in America by noon.”
The agents scattered to do their jobs. Chen stayed behind, staring at the wall of pictures. Rose Lewis sneaking through the hotel in different disguises, carefully placing bombs that would kill people who had done nothing wrong—all because she couldn’t let go of her hate for her sister.
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