Chapter 7
Darkness had fallen by the time they approached Sabrina's parent's property, moving silently through the trees that bordered her backyard.
Walker had outfitted them both in tactical black, with comm units that allowed them to speak in whispers.
"Be careful. Reed couldn't see anyone watching, but we know they are."
Sabrina nodded, trying to calm her racing heart.
Walker had spent the afternoon teaching her basic movement techniques, but she still felt clumsy and obvious compared to his fluid grace.
"Remember," he whispered, "we're not here to engage. In and out with the files. If something goes wrong, stay close to me."
"Wouldn't it be better to separate and meet back together?"
He frowned. "Don't leave my side."
Part of her was happy he was protective of her, the other part knew this was just a mission for him and she was stupid for acting like his protectiveness could mean anything more.
They moved across the open ground between the tree line and her house, keeping low.
"Your code," he prompted.
Sabrina entered the six-digit sequence, holding her breath until the light turned green.
Inside, the house was eerily silent and dark.
They moved through familiar rooms rendered strange by circumstance, making their way to her father's study.
The door was locked—a heavy wooden affair with a deadbolt.
"I don't have a key," Sabrina whispered. "Henry has the only copy."
Walker produced a small tool kit and went to work on the lock.
Within minutes, the door swung open.
The study looked untouched—leather-bound books lining walnut shelves, her father's antique desk dominating the center of the room.
But something felt wrong to Sabrina.
"It's too perfect," Walker murmured, scanning the room. "Someone's been here."
"How can you tell?"
"The dust pattern." He pointed to the desk. "Someone's gone through these papers recently."
He tapped his ear. "Was it you?"
She knew he spoke to his brother, Reed.
He hesitated. "Reed says they're scanning the footage. Oh. Man, they found a hiccup in the footage."
Nervous angst pulsed through her. "What does that mean?"
His look turned grim. "It means someone was probably here and blocked the cameras for a bit, then put the footage back with an overlap footage so the security didn't catch it."
Sabrina moved to the desk, running her fingers along its polished surface. "That's not good."
Walker moved next to her, looking around.
She focused on where something could be that her father had hidden. "Dad had a safe. Behind that painting."
Walker carefully removed the landscape painting, revealing a wall safe.
"Combination?"
Sabrina hesitated. "I don't know it."
Walker studied the safe. "High-end. We'd need time and equipment we don't have."
Frustration washed over her. "Then this was for nothing."
Walker tapped his ear. "Reed? Safe?"
She waited.
He shook his head. "They got nothing. They didn't even know it was there."
She was confused. She stared at it, then moved forward, putting in her birthday.
Bam, it opened.
"No way," Walker said.
But there was nothing inside, except a small piece of paper.
Walker picked it up and they looked at it together.
"Those days at the lake were the best," Sabrina read out the words.
Walker looked confused. "So he must have thought you would find this?"
Sabrina moved around the room methodically. "My father was meticulous. If he wanted to leave information for me, he'd make sure I could find it."
"Trust but verify," Walker murmured.
"Right," Sabrina said, moving around the study, touching objects, remembering her father working here.
On his desk sat the silver letter opener she'd given him for his birthday years ago.
Next to it, family photos—Sabrina's graduation, her parents' anniversary, a wedding photo of she and Rob, family vacations.
She picked up a photo of all of them at the lake house—her parents, herself, and Walker's family. Young Walker stood next to teenage Sabrina, his arm casually around her shoulders.
"We were so young," she whispered. "This must be it."
Walker glanced at the photo, something flickering in his eyes that Sabrina couldn't read. "Different lifetime."
Sabrina set the photo down, then paused. "Wait." She turned it around. "This isn't right. Dad had this in a different frame."
She turned it over, opening the back. Inside, behind the photo, was a small key and a note in her father's handwriting: For my daughter, when the shepherd strays.
Sabrina looked up at Walker, pulse quickening. "The shepherd. That's what he said before he died."
Walker took the key, examining it. "Safety deposit box?"
"No," Sabrina said slowly, looking around the room. Her eyes fell on her father's antique desk. "His desk has a hidden compartment. He showed me once when I was little."
She moved to the desk, running her fingers along the ornate woodwork until she found what she was looking for—a small, nearly invisible keyhole beneath the right-hand drawer. The key fit perfectly.
When she turned it, a panel on the side of the desk slid open, revealing a slim leather portfolio.
"He wanted me to find this," Sabrina whispered, carefully removing the portfolio.
Inside were documents, photographs, and a sealed envelope with her name written in her father's distinctive hand.
Walker tapped his ear. "Reed says we need to move. They've tracked a van on the edges of the perimeter."
Sabrina clutched the portfolio to her chest. "Let's go."
They retraced their steps through the house, Walker leading the way.
As they reached the side door, he held up his hand, stopping her. "Movement outside," he whispered. "Two guys."
Sabrina's heart raced. "What do we do?"
"Change of plans. Follow me."
He led her upstairs to her old bedroom, locking the door behind them.
"Second exit?" he asked.
"The balcony, but it's a fifteen-foot drop."
Walker moved to the balcony doors, checking the distance. "Not a problem."
He removed a thin coil of rope from his tactical vest. "I'll go first, then catch you."
"Walker—"
"Trust me." His eyes held hers. "I won't let you fall."
Something in his tone made her remember all the times he'd promised to keep her safe when they were young—before missions and service had changed him, before life had separated them and they were just doing stupid things around the lake.
She nodded. "I trust you."
Walker secured the rope and descended silently to the ground. He looked up at her, arms ready. "Jump," he called softly. "I've got you."
Sabrina clutched the large envelope with one hand and lowered herself over the edge. For one terrifying moment, she hung suspended, then let go.
Walker caught her, his strong arms absorbing the impact. For a heartbeat, they were pressed together, faces inches apart. Her heart pounded, but she couldn't tell if it was from the danger or his proximity. Then he set her down gently.
"This way," he whispered, leading her along the shadows of the house toward the tree line.
They made it back to their vehicle without incident, the precious envelope safely secured.
"That was close," Sabrina said once they were driving away. "Too close."
Walker's expression was grim. "Someone knew you'd come back for your father's files."
"Henry?"
"Possibly. Or someone Henry reports to."
"Reports to? You really think he has been working for someone else?"
He grunted. "Who shot up that boardroom?"
Anger stirred inside of her, then confusion. "I don't know."
The implications hung between them as they drove through the night, back toward the helo. Then they would go back to the safety of the cabin.