Jake exhaled trying to rein in his anger. “The reality is we don’t have any proof. Until then we do our jobs. Right now, that means getting Claire into protective custody.” Dana opened her mouth to argue but Jake cut her off. “I want in on the protection detail. Who’s point?”
“Good luck. Hartwell’s running the show.”
“You let me deal with Hartwell.”
107
I must kill.I must.
I can feel them closing in. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But I can’t stop now.
I adapt.
I learn.
I have to play my part.
Just a little bit longer. Then we’ll be reunited. And this will all be worth it.
I will do it for her. For her, I do everything.
108
Dana watchedthe sun-worn lace curtains flutter in the open window above Jake’s head. The moonlight sallowed their color to a shade between eggshell and fresh butter. The radio on Jake’s hip crackled to life and Hartwell’s voice filled the small attic. “All units relay your position.”
Jake barked back his code, then gave Dana an insufferable wink.
As promised, he’d talked his way onto the protection detail, demoting Dana to glorified babysitter. She wasn’t even in the main part of the house with Claire and the other patients. She’d been sequestered to the attic with Jake, where his sharpshooting skills would be put to the test if the Reaper showed up. Assuming the murderous maniac wasn’t already inside.
She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting having Jake on the case. The problem was, the safe house attic wasn’t big enough for both their egos, especially now that hers was bruised.
It hurt how easily he’d dismissed her theory. Dana didn’t want Claire to be involved in this anymore than he did. But Dana was trying to be rational. She’d convinced herself Dvita was the Reaper and because of it, had been blinded to any other option.
She wouldn’t let that happen again. Not if it meant more people would pay the ultimate price.
“You mind toning it down over there,” Jake taunted. “I can hear the gears turning in that mind of yours. It’s hard to concentrate.”
Dana glared at him, annoyed by the amusement on his face.
“Just admit you’re glad I’m here,” he teased.
“Yes, I’m overjoyed to be freezing to death in a dusty, cobweb filled attic in the middle of nowhere with you.”
“I know you’ve been to more remote places than a farm in Greenbelt, Maryland.” He smirked, shrugging out of his FBI field jacket. “And if you’re cold, just say so,” he said, draping the jacket over her shoulders.
It was still warm and smelled intoxicatingly like him, which shamefully subdued her annoyance.
“Better?” he asked.
Begrudgingly, she nodded.
“It’s really remote out here.”
“It’s a safe house, Gray. Keyword is safe.”
“I know,” she muttered, “but if the plan is to draw the Reaper out maybe we should’ve picked a place closer to the city.”
“It’s only a thirty-minute drive,” Jake replied. “Besides, hosting a shootout in the city seems a tad irresponsible. Out here there’s plenty of room for us to hide.”