Page 18 of The Sniper

“That’s where I come in,” Daniels said, his tone calm but commanding. He set the photo down and moved closer, his presence filling the small space. “Most of Cerberus here in Chicago is working on bringing down a huge human trafficking ring as well as trying to dismantle René Vallois’s organization.”

“How do you even know that?” she asked, exasperated.

She could feel his gaze on her, steady and unrelenting, and it made her want to push him away and pull him closer all at once.

“Because there are people here at Cerberus who actually consider me a friend and know I’m good at what I do. I know Fitz is opening another satellite office in Monte Carlo. If I can help you, that’s one thing less they have to do,” Daniels said, his voice low and firm.

For someone who didn’t work for Cerberus, he was remarkably well informed.

“You’re running yourself into the ground,” he continued, “trying to carry this all on your own. I get it—you’re used to being the one everyone else relies on—and understandably so. But murder—especially one involving powerful people or a serial killer of some kind—is what I do best. This isn’t just your fight.”

“Who said serial killer?”

“No one, but we have no way of knowing at this point. Why not let Cerberus do what it does best, and let me help you with this.”

Reyna clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists as she stared at the screen. She hated this—hated the way he saw through her, hated the way he made her feel like she wasn’t as invincible as she liked to think she was. But he wasn’t wrong. And that was the worst part.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice clipped. “But don’t expect me to sit on the sidelines while you play hero.”

Daniels’ lips quirked into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t for the seriousness in his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He straightened, his presence still looming as he crossed the room to the whiteboard mounted on the wall. Grabbing a marker, he started sketching out a rough diagram, connecting names and places with lines and arrows. Reyna watched him for a moment, her irritation giving way to something she didn’t want to name. He was methodical, precise, and damn it, he was good at what he did. He was also something of a hunk. It was one of the things that drew her to him, even when she didn’t want it to.

“So,” Daniels said, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Who’s at the top of your list?”

Reyna pushed back her chair and stood, crossing the room to join him. She grabbed a second marker, uncapped it with her teeth, and started adding to the diagram. “Alan Porter. He’s a regular at the Velvet Glove, knew Veda well, and has a reputation for being… less than scrupulous. He’s got money, connections, and a hell of a lot to lose if certain secrets came to light.”

Daniels nodded. “Who else?”

“Angela Wright,” Reyna said, tapping the marker against the board. “She’s a professional submissive, high-profile in thescene. She and Veda had a falling out a few months ago—something about a breach of trust. She’s got motive, but I doubt she could pull off something like this without help.”

“Which means she might have a partner,” Daniels said, his tone thoughtful. He stepped back, studying the board with a critical eye. “We’ll need surveillance on both of them. If they’re involved, they’ll slip up eventually.”

“I’m already working on it,” Reyna said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve got Caro and Mitch setting up a surveillance grid. We’ll start monitoring their movements, see if anything stands out.”

“Good,” Daniels said, his gaze shifting to hers. “But if you’re going to lead this, you need to trust your team. That means delegating, Reyna. Not doing everything yourself.”

“I trust my team,” she said, though the defensive edge in her voice made it clear she knew what he meant. “I just don’t trust anyone else to clean up this mess.”

Daniels stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You trust me.”

Reyna’s breath caught, the words hitting her harder than she expected. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but the truth was right there between them, undeniable and unspoken. She did trust him. And that scared her more than anything else.

“For now, but don’t push your luck, Daniels,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

He didn’t reply, didn’t press her. Instead, he nodded, stepping back and giving her the space she didn’t realize she needed. “Let me know when the surveillance is up and running. I’ll loop in the Bureau, see if we can get us some additional resources.”

“How very generous of them,” she said sarcastically.

“As you pointed out, with just one murder, it doesn’t necessarily fall into Bureau territory, but the mayor and thepolice commissioner asked for my help, so the Bureau is willing to let me help. Let’s meet back here tomorrow morning.”

Reyna nodded dismissively and watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest as the door closed behind him. She breathed out slowly, her fingers tightening around the marker in her hand. This wasn’t just about the case anymore. It never had been. And the more she tried to keep him at arm’s length, the closer he seemed to get.

She turned back to the board, her gaze lingering on the names and lines they’d drawn. Veda’s connections, the blackmail, the secrets—it was all part of a web, and somewhere in the middle of it sat the spider who had killed Veda. Reyna would find them. She had to. And if it meant letting Daniels in, even just a little, then so be it.

For now.

Reyna turned, shaking out her hands and arms. The club was open tonight. Maybe she’d go downstairs and get some stress relief. As she made her way down, she could hear the club pulsing with low, ambient music. The rich, warm lighting softened the edges of the dark wood furniture and the gleaming black leather that adorned the space. Reyna saw Daniels standing next to a padded table with his kit laid out next to it. In his kit was his own personal violet wand. Damn the man. He knew this was just the kind of thing that would help her relax.

---