Page 44 of Critical Doubt

Chapter Eleven

Savannah heardthe pain in Ryker's voice. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that Todd didn't mean it that way, but she couldn't.

"Ma'am, Agent Kane," the locker room attendant said with an awkward expression on his face. "Some guys want to come in here."

"Sure," she said. "Let's take this with us, Ryker."

He nodded, his jaw so tight she didn't think he could get a word out if he tried. He kept a death grip on the envelope as they walked out of the locker room and took the elevator down to the garage. He didn't speak, but his body was as stiff as a poker, and his breath was coming short and fast. There was a wild light entering his eyes. She could see the panic and knew he was coming under attack from his own brain. She didn't know if he was hearing the echo of his own terrible words, or if the bells were back, but she wanted to get him into the car.

"Give me the keys," she ordered.

He gave her a blank look.

"Keys," she repeated firmly, holding out her hand.

He reached into his pocket and handed her the keys, another sign that all was not well.

Then he walked around the car and got into the passenger seat as she slid behind the wheel. He put the envelope on the console between them and folded his arms in front of his chest as he closed his eyes.

Glancing over at him, he seemed so lonely, so isolated. She could feel a scream rolling around inside him, but he was trying desperately to hold it together. His face was like a statue, nothing moving except the pulse in his neck. He was holding off an army of attackers all by himself, and it hurt her heart to watch his struggle.

Impulsively, she put her hand on his.

He jerked away, but he didn't open his eyes, and he didn't say anything.

She tried again, wrapping her fingers around his, and holding on. She wanted her warmth to seep through the icy cold of his skin. She wanted him to feel support, to know he wasn't alone in the fight. And this time he didn't push her hand away. A long minute passed. She barely breathed, not wanting to make a sound that would disturb him.

Her gaze moved to the envelope on the console. Todd's mother's address was on the front. She hadn't realized that. Maybe Todd hadn't meant to leave the envelope in his locker. He could have been intending to mail the medals to her. In which case, the note might not have been a suicide note at all. It could have just been something he wanted to send to his mother.

She wanted to tell Ryker, but his breath was still coming hard and fast. He was fighting his demons, and she had to give him a chance to win that battle.

Her gaze left the envelope, moving back toward the windshield, and then her heart skipped another beat. There was a piece of paper tucked under the wiper blade, and it didn't look like a sales flyer.

She wanted to jump out of the car and get it, but she couldn't let go of Ryker. She was on this ride with him, even if she was just a silent partner. His fingers tightened around hers, as if he sensed she was distracted, and she turned her attention back to him.

Another minute and he shifted in his seat. A breath swooshed through his now parted lips. He opened his eyes, turned his head, and stared at her with the remnants of incredible pain and raw anger in his brown gaze. She didn't look away. The anger wasn't for her. It was for himself. He hated being a prisoner to his brain, being unable to control the attacks or to vanquish them.

His gaze traveled to her hand still wrapped in his, still tucked against his chest, which seemed to be warming by the minute. In fact, the air in the entire car was heating up. What had started out as comfort was quickly turning into something else, the irresistible pull of desire, attraction, connection. She'd felt it the first second she'd seen him in the bar five years ago, and she was almost overwhelmed by how strong it was now.

But Ryker was fighting the connection. After another hard breath, he let go of her hand.

A chill ran through her. She could almost see his walls going back up. She might have gotten in for a second, but she was out now, all the way out. And this time, she was the one to let out a breath of disappointment. Even though she knew that this wasn't the time or the place for anything more.

As she put her hands back on the wheel, her gaze moved once again to the paper underneath the wiper.

She opened the car door and got out to grab it.

Ryker's gaze narrowed in surprise. "What's that?"

She unfolded the piece of paper. "It's an address—Brittain Park Fountain, six o'clock." She met his gaze. "We have a meet. We just don't know with whom."

"Someone here at Carmack," he muttered. "Let's go."

She hesitated before starting the engine. "Are you sure you don't need another minute?"

"I'm fine."

"All evidence to the contrary."

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