Chapter 27
Brooklyn Sloane
Brook cradled the steaming mug of black coffee between her palms as she stared at her laptop screen. There was something wrong with the profile that Toby Graise had drafted, and the slight changes that she’d recently made hadn’t made a difference.
If the unsub had been the one to trip the alarm the other day, why had he stopped killing a decade ago?
What could have prompted such a drastic change in his psyche?
Incarceration would have been the most obvious choice, but no local had been sentenced for a long period of time.
Bit’s applications were being reprogrammed to include surrounding cities, and Arden would be tasked with combing through the hits.
She couldn’t prevent a shiver at the slight winter chill that seeped through the cabin's walls despite the fire's valiant efforts. It was one of the reasons she’d been dressed and ready to start the day for the past few hours. The team had agreed to meet at eight o’clock sharp in Bit’s cabin to go over her speech for tonight’s town hall meeting.
Maybe doing so would allow her to reevaluate the investigation's details.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She didn't bother to call out. Only one person on the team would want to have an in-depth conversation about her trip to Illinois. She made her way over to the door, bracing herself as she opened it.
The blast of frigid air was immediate.
Theo could have passed for a walking winter advertisement, the kind that was plastered across a billboard on the outskirts of town.
He was bundled in layers and wearing his brown leather jacket that nearly doubled his already substantial frame.
The strap of his matching eyepatch was practically hidden underneath the brown cap covering his head, and his breath immediately became a visible cloud that floated away with the wind.
“I come bearing gifts,” Theo announced as she stepped back, giving him space to enter. He closed the door with his elbow, his hands otherwise occupied by two to-go cups sporting the bakery’s logo. “I thought you could use the additional caffeine to kick off the morning.”
Brook set her half-empty mug on the small end table.
“You didn't need to make a coffee run.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. This isn’t just any coffee.
” Theo extended one of the cups toward her.
“Kim insisted on making you a specialty drink.
Wouldn't do it for anyone else, not even when I offered to pay extra.
Apparently, you are special. That there is a Sugar Cookie Latte, which isn't even on their menu.”
Brook accepted the cup, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
“Is that so?”
“The woman practically shooed away other customers to focus on getting your drink perfect. She even muttered something about you not being the only observant one.” Theo set his coffee down to remove his gloves.
Once those were on the table, he took time to remove his coat and hang it over the back of a chair.
He left his scarf on over his cable-knit sweater.
“Want to tell me why you're suddenly the next Queen of Harrowick? Because yesterday you were just the profiler who put everyone on edge.”
“That's between Kim and me,” Brook said with a smirk before testing out the specialty drink. The sweet, warm liquid had hints of vanilla and butter, perfectly balanced with the espresso underneath. Brook closed her eyes briefly and hummed with unexpected pleasure. The only thing that could top it would be Bit’s powdered donuts. “Damn, that’s good.”
“All I got was a black coffee.”
“Who knew being normal would have such advantages,” Brook murmured when he turned to reach for said coffee.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Brook took another sip, and it was just as good as the first. Kim must have noticed Brook’s hesitation when ordering two black coffees the other day. She’d been eyeing the vanilla latte on the menu board before changing her mind. “I’m just appreciating Kim's handiwork.”
Brook wasn’t deceived by Theo’s warm gesture of coffee. She could sense the tension beneath his upbeat demeanor. He wanted to address the fact that they now had proof of Jacob’s survival.
“Ask your question, Theo.”
“Have you contacted the Bureau about Jacob?”
There had been no hesitation. Theo’s question landed precisely as she'd anticipated, and she took another sip of her beverage to buy a moment to arrange her thoughts.
A glance toward the sole window revealed frost patterns on the pane, almost as if fate was giving her a subtle reminder of the ice cave in Alaska.
A bitter smile touched her lips.
“No, I haven't,” Brook stated matter-of-factly, turning her focus back to Theo. His lips thinned in response. “For obvious reasons.”
She didn't need to elaborate, because the unspoken implications filled the space between them. Jacob Walsh was officially presumed dead by the FBI. Contradicting that finding meant explaining how she'd obtained the evidence, which would raise questions about Bit's methods and her directives.
Questions with legally problematic answers.
Bit had managed to recover the video footage from the vehicle's sentry mode.
The clarity had been startling. The untrimmed beard couldn't disguise Jacob’s features, nor could the wool cap hide the ragged scar that now carved a jagged path from his right temple, fading into his facial hair toward his jaw.
Mrs. Nevin had accurately described his limp, which had been very pronounced as he strolled in front of the vehicle.
In almost every other situation, Brook would have questioned whether Jacob had intentionally wanted to be caught on camera, but he’d been too distracted by a pastor escorting a bereaved woman across the grounds. He never noticed the electronic eye confirming his health status.
Jacob had set up the Illinois visit to mess with her head. He wanted her to spend weeks, if not months, driving herself crazy attempting to prove to the Bureau that he was still alive.
Somewhere in some random motel room, her brother was waiting, plotting. And while he thought himself the hunter, Brook had confirmed her sighting first. Bit was already searching through traffic cameras for any sign of Jacob's vehicle, attempting to trace his movements.
“I had a feeling that you would use that excuse, and I believe there's a solution,” Theo offered, breaking into her thoughts.
“When this investigation closes, I can contact the vehicle owner and formally request permission to access the footage.
Once granted, we turn the footage over to the Bureau.
It legitimizes the evidence, creates a clear chain of custody. They'll reinstate the search.”
Brook slid her gaze to the dancing flames in the fireplace. The wood occasionally popped and hissed, sending tiny embers spiraling upward before they faded to ash. He continued to study her for several seconds.
“You don't want them to know.”
Brook took another deliberate sip of her latte. The embers in the fireplace popped again as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, the mattress barely yielding beneath her weight.
Theo remained standing, his frustration evident in the rigid set of his shoulders. They'd had disagreements before, but she’d never witnessed such frustration. He crossed to the small table and set his coffee down. Before he could launch into some lecture she figured was forming, she spoke first.
“No one has been searching for a man with a long beard, unkempt mustache, and a ragged scar down the side of his face.” Brook held the disposable cup with both hands as she met his gaze.
“He’s barely recognizable now, though that shouldn’t have hampered a federal search.
I also don't know how he managed to get from Alaska to Illinois undetected, but we have the advantage.”
“The advantage.” Theo's voice was flat, disbelieving. He shook his head in disgust. “How many times have you said this isn't a game, Brook? You said yourself the other day that Jacob is coming for you. Not those you love. You.”
He gestured around the cabin with a sweeping motion.
“And yet here we are, in the middle of another investigation, while you're sitting there acting like this decision is just another piece on the board to move. Don’t you get it?
This is it. This is the endgame, no pun intended.
And yet, you're just sitting there drinking a god damn Sugar Cookie Latte like it's a day off, which you never take anyway. Jesus Christ, Brook.”
Theo placed his hands on his hips, lowering his head for a moment as he collected his composure. She would have addressed his accusations, but it was obvious that he wasn’t done. She’d let him finish, to dispel his frustration…his concern.
“I'm going to say what no one else will,” Theo said almost despondently. “You've grown. You've changed for the better, and you sure as hell aren't the same person you were. You've let people in. You fell in love with a good man, and we're now your family.”
Not one word of what Theo had just stated was wrong, but he couldn’t seem to discern that she wasn’t arguing with him. She had changed, and there was even a small part of her that was proud of such progress. But Theo was wrong in one aspect of his speech.
She wasn’t making any decisions regarding her brother lightly.
“Well, Brook, family doesn't allow one of their own to do stupid shit. And we won't stand by to…”
The words died in his throat as Brook slowly stood, set down her latte, and crossed the short distance between them. Before he could register her intentions, she wrapped her arms around his solid frame and hugged him.
The action was so unprecedented that Theo went completely rigid, his lecture forgotten in the shock of physical contact that Brook typically avoided at all costs. His arms remained at his sides, his breath held as if movement might shatter this impossible moment.
She said nothing, simply maintaining the embrace.
Gradually, the tension in his body receded, replaced by a cautious acceptance of what was happening. His arms lifted slowly, hesitantly, before settling around her with unexpected gentleness, as if she might dissolve beneath too firm a touch.
The embrace tightened, transforming from awkwardness to genuineness. His chest expanded with a deep breath and then contracted with a cautious sigh that seemed to carry years of worried vigilance.
That exhale was her cue.
She slowly pulled back, her hands moving to rest briefly against his chest before dropping away entirely. She’d made her point. She’d proven her point.
“Yes, I have changed, Theo.” Brook tilted her head and offered him a small smile. “And I can promise you that every decision I make from this moment forward is to hold onto this life I’ve managed to carve out for myself.”
She stepped back, reclaiming her personal space while maintaining eye contact. The vulnerability she'd just displayed had already been carefully repackaged, but not erased or denied. That was the difference, and it was a growth Theo seemed to finally recognize.
“I need you to trust me to know when I need help,” Brook continued, her tone gaining strength without losing its newfound warmth. “And when I do, you'll know.”
Theo continued to study her, most likely searching for signs of the deflection and dismissal she typically employed. Finding none, he nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the territory they'd just navigated, which was very unfamiliar ground for both of them.
“I'm still going to argue with you,” Theo warned, though the edge had disappeared from his voice.
“I'd be concerned if you didn't.”
She returned to her cup, lifting it in a small toast before taking another sip. The sweetness now seemed appropriate. A reminder of the unexpected gifts that came with allowing connections. She didn’t doubt that their conversation wasn't over, but a foundation had been laid.
For now, that would have to be enough.