I’ve been a car-wash client for a while now, and while I love my job, I’m no stranger to getting car-related threats.
Last month, I was at my job at the Car Wash in San Diego, California, when I heard the sound of a bomb in the distance.
I rushed over to investigate and found my car-repair shop had been bombed, and the front of the building had been destroyed.
As the building collapsed, I got out my car and tried to save my client.
“My car has been blown apart.
My client is in there.
Get out of there!”
I yelled, and as I went to help my client, I ran into the car wash.
My client was inside the building, and he was badly burned.
I rushed to the scene of the attack, and saw his charred body.
After saving my client from the blast, I started to search for any clues.
The police and fire departments were already on the scene and working on the fire, but my friend had told me he was going to wait until his boss came back to see him.
When he did, he told me, the fire department had put out the fire.
When I returned to the building later that day, I found my client’s body in a pool of blood.
A police officer who responded to the call told me that the car-washes front door had been blown off.
I was stunned to hear that, and I wondered how my friend knew this.
“How can you be so sure that a car has blown up in your shop?”
I asked the officer.
He replied that he couldn’t be sure because the fire had already been put out, but the car had already burned down.
I explained that the bomb had been put in the building when I saw the bomb scare my client and told him to get out.
I asked if he could help me find the owner of the car.
That evening, I went back to my office and went through my files.
On the first page was a file called the Accidental Bomb Threat Assessment.
It listed the name of the person or people who had been involved in the attack and their phone numbers.
Another page listed the time and place where the incident occurred, along with the date and time it was made.
Finally, the next page listed a link to the owner’s social media account, which was the first thing I checked when I checked my files, but there was no link.
This was a problem.
The bomb scare didn’t come from a single individual.
But the owner was identified, and there were multiple phone numbers linked to his social media accounts.
At first, I thought maybe this was a coincidence, but as I looked through my file, I noticed that a number of my files were linked to the same phone numbers, as if it was a direct connection.
An investigation revealed that the owner had shared the same number with several other people.
And, as my files continued to confirm my suspicions, I knew the owner could be connected to the bomb.
So, I called him.
We spoke on the phone, and after a while, I had a sense of urgency.
“Can I help you?”
No,” he said.
“I can’t help you.”
“I have to go,” I said, and then, “No, I have to get my car back.”
I asked what the car would cost.
His reply was that he had a friend in the business and he would pay for the car if I agreed to take care of it.
With my client at my side, I left my office, grabbed my car key, and drove to the firehouse.
Two minutes later, the door to the front door was blown off, but I had not left the building yet.
Immediately, I rushed back inside.
Just then, the police came and opened the door.
The front door remained open.
In the next seconds, I heard a loud explosion.
What was happening?
I asked myself.
Suddenly, I saw my client lying on the floor.
All I could do was cry.
For a moment, I believed my friend was alive, but then I saw his burned body in the parking lot.
I realized that this wasn’t just a car explosion, but an actual, life-threatening explosion.
The story that followed was the story of my life, and it was one that has haunted me ever since.
There was no way that I could have survived the blast.
From my office in my San Diego condo, I took a phone call to the local fire department.
I couldn’t hear the firemen who were there because I was in the process of getting the car out of the garage