Chapter 7 #2
“—is too close to this,” Garrett finished. “You can’t be objective about a predator who’s obsessed with killing you.”
“And you can? You lost your sister to a killer, too. You’re just as compromised on this as I am.”
The words hit like a gut punch. She didn’t know how right she was.
“That’s different,” he managed.
“How?”
“It just is.” Garrett headed for the door. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
“Wolf—”
He kept walking.
Claire’s room felt smaller with both of them in it.
Garrett grabbed his go-bag and checked his gear.
Weapons, tactical equipment, extra magazines.
He hated not being with her, but he needed to be in the op center.
He couldn’t exactly hold meetings in here.
Let Bobcat take watch while he coordinated the details of what they’d do, no matter what stunt the killer tried to pull.
Because he would. Garrett didn’t need to be a profiler or a psychologist to know that.
“What’s that?”
Garrett turned. Claire was looking at his open bag. At the photograph tucked into the inside pocket. It had half fallen out.
His chest tightened. He quickly shoved it back inside and zipped the bag. “Nothing.”
“Looks like a photo.” She moved closer. “Is it of you and your sister?”
He should have hidden it better. Should have left it somewhere she couldn’t see. But he’d needed it close. Needed the reminder of why he was here. Why he couldn’t fail.
The photo was old. Two kids at a park. Lily, age ten, grinning at the camera. And Bobby, age fourteen, his arm around her shoulders. The last photo their mother had taken of the two of them before Lily died.
“It’s private,” Garrett said, keeping his back to her.
“You carry her photo with you. Just like I carry Lily’s.” She caught his eye and shoved the framed photo at him. “These photos remind us of why we do what we do.”
He couldn’t speak and barely glanced at it. His throat felt tight. His chest, too.
Her gaze dropped to his bag as she brought her framed photo to her chest. “Can I see yours?”
“No.” He grabbed the bag’s strap. “It’s... I don’t share it.”
Claire’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. Nothing about this was fine.
“What was her name? You never told me.”
Garrett’s hands stilled on his bag. This was dangerous territory. One wrong word and she’d start connecting dots. Would start seeing patterns. Would realize—
“I should go,” he said.
“Don’t change the subject. Your sister. What was her name?”
“Claire—”
“Please.” Her voice was soft now. Vulnerable. “I told you about Lily. About the worst night of my life. I just... I want to know about yours.”
He couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t say Lily’s name and watch recognition dawn in her eyes. Couldn’t risk everything. “She was a good kid. That’s all that matters.”
“Wolf.” Claire’s voice was strange now. Uncertain. “What was her name?”
“I need to go.” He grabbed his bag and opened the door.
“Wolf, wait—”
He was out the door before she could ask again. The new man, Bobcat, was waiting. “Sir,” he said, coming to attention.
“Bobcat, this is Agent Dawson.” He motioned at Claire. “Claire, this is your new bodyguard.”
Bobcat started to walk inside. Claire put a hand on his chest to stop him. “No.”
Garrett sighed. “Claire.”
She tossed Lily’s picture on the bed and walked out of the room. “I’m coming with you.”
“You need to stay in your room.”
“And I told you I’m not sitting on the sidelines.” She walked past him, chin up, spine straight. “I’m part of this operation whether you like it or not.”
“Claire—” he tried again.
“I need to check in with my team at the FBI. Call Reeves. Update them. Then I’m sitting in on your planning session because I know this killer better than any of you, and you need me there.”
He hated it, but she was right.
“Fine.” Garrett turned to Bobcat. “You’re with us.”
The three of them headed to the operations room, with its tactical maps, communication equipment, and enough weapons to supply a small army.
Grizzly and Lynx were already there, studying satellite images of the abandoned mining facility.
Hawk was outside, keeping eyes on the perimeter. Garrett sent Bobcat to back him up.
Lynx moved to his laptop. “All security monitors are operational. There are three drones in the air, and I’ve got eyes on every approach to the compound.”
“Good.” Garrett turned to Claire. “Make your call, but do not mention the new message. Do not mention our plan. Standard check-in only.”
“Is that an order, Commander?” Claire said dryly.
“Yes, it is, Paperclip.”
Rolling her eyes, she pulled out her Bureau phone and dialed Reeves. She put it on speaker so they could all hear. It rang four times and went to voicemail.
“Marcus, it’s Claire. Just checking in. Everything’s fine here. Shadow Point is…thorough. Call me when you can. I want to hear how the task force is doing.”
She hung up. Looked at Garrett. “He should have answered. He always answers.”
“Could be in a briefing,” Grizzly suggested.
“At nine PM?”
“Or he’s got his phone off. Sleeping.” Lynx shrugged. “Even SACs need rest.”
Claire didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue.
Garrett moved to the tactical map. “Okay. Let’s assume the stalker takes our bait. Agrees to meet at the mining facility on the anniversary. Here’s how we—”
The door burst open.
Vivi’s face was pale, and her hands were shaking.
Garrett’s blood went cold. “What is it?”
“Local police just reported a homicide.” Vivi’s voice was tight. “A woman, mid-twenties. brunette hair, blue eyes. Her throat was slashed.”
The room went silent.
“Where?” Garrett asked.
“Behind the coffee shop where the message was sent.” Vivi’s eyes met his. “She looks like Claire.”
Claire made a sound—something between a gasp and a sob.
The Countdown Killer wasn’t waiting for the anniversary. Wasn’t playing their game. He was hunting. Right now. In their town.
And he’d just killed a woman who looked like Claire. “He’s not just here,” Garrett added. “He just replied to our message.”