Page 17 of Cat and Mouse

With nothing else to do, I head to the bedroom and lie down, my mind racing. I close my eyes, and all I see are those green eyes, that scar. I remember the scent of cherry lingering in the air.

Elizabeth Kane, you're going to be mine. One way or another.

*

It takes two days before Matteo finally contacts me.

"I've got the file," he says. "But I'll need to organize a runner to bring it to you."

"Okay," I reply. "Have it delivered to Chipotle."

I hang up and check the time. With the arrangement set, I head out to Chipotle. The drive is routine, but my focus is sharp. Arriving at the restaurant, I pick a booth that gives me a clear view of the entrance.

While I wait, I call my father. The line rings a few times before he picks up.

"Leo, how's everything on your end?" he asks.

"Busy," I reply, glancing at the door for any sign of the runner. "I'm at Chipotle waiting for a delivery. What's the latest with the Russians?"

"They're tough negotiators," he says with a hint of frustration. "They're pushing for a bigger cut on the ammunition deal. I've got a plan to handle it, but I need to iron out a few details."

I keep my eyes peeled. "Do you need me there?"

"No, I've got my team with me," he assures. "Just stay low and be careful."

"Always," I say, ending the call.

As I hang up, she walks in. She's about 5'6" with dark brown hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her fitted black leather jacket, dark jeans, and knee-high boots lend her an air of confident authority. Her sharp eyes scan the room, locking on to me quickly.

She strides over with purpose, her movements fluid and deliberate. Sliding into the booth across from me, she discreetly places a small envelope on the table. Her fingers linger for a moment, revealing a delicate gold bracelet that catches the light.

"Delivery for you," she says, her voice smooth but carrying a tone of no-nonsense professionalism.

I hand her a $20. She takes it with a nod and a brief, knowing smile. "Thanks," she says, before standing up and heading for the door.

As she exits, her boots click decisively against the tile floor. I watch her leave, the envelope now in my possession. With the transaction completed, I head to my car.

I can't wait to get home, so I pull out my laptop in the car.

I plug in the drive and start reading. Elizabeth Kane's career unfolds in front of me. She started as a rookie in Milwaukee, quickly climbing the ranks due to her sharp instincts and tenacity. She was involved in a major bust, taking down a drug ring that had been plaguing the city for years. But something happened in Milwaukee that made her transfer. What was it?

Her file mentions a traumatic event, a raid gone wrong, resulting in the death of her partner. The details are sparse, but it's clear it left a mark on her. That's when she moved toLA, working her way up again, gaining a reputation for being relentless. Now, she's with the NYPD, chasing shadows and phantoms.

There's something about that scar and the way she flinched when I touched it. I can't let it go. She's a commendable opponent, and I want to understand her.

I start by looking into her training officer from Milwaukee, her watch commander, everyone connected to her past. I'm piecing together her life, trying to find the thread that ties it all together. I get lost in the details, the events that shaped her.

The scar, that's the key. It's more than just a physical mark. It's tied to something deeper, something that drives her.

Elizabeth Kane, you're not just a target.

You're my new obsession.

As I dig deeper, Matteo calls again.

"You find anything interesting?"

"Yeah, she's had quite a career. There's something about a raid in Milwaukee. Need more details on that."

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