Page 42 of Pursuit of Her

Without breaking eye contact, Eve casually stepped backward, blocking the lobby security camera's view of the service entrance. Then, with deliberate precision, she approached Martinez as she entered the lobby from another corridor.

Protecting Reagan.

Eve wasn't just investigating parallel to Reagan's operation; she was actively interfering with Martinez's security measures, providing cover for Reagan's escape.

Reagan moved across the lobby toward the east exit, maintaining a casual pace. As she neared the exit, Martinez's voice rose. "Captain Morgan, you're on administrative leave. Your presence here interferes with an active security operation."

"And yours exceeds standard department protocols for a private event, Detective," Eve countered, her tone professional but unyielding.

Their confrontation created perfect cover for Reagan's exit. As she pushed through the revolving door, Reagan caught a final glimpse of Eve and Martinez—professional rivals locked in a power struggle that masked a deeper conflict.

Eve knew. She understood what Reagan was planning and had deliberately intervened to protect her.

Reagan followed her pre-planned exit route, changed her appearance in a department store fitting room, and escaped on the motorcycle Elena had left for her. Only when she'dreached the safe house did Reagan allow herself to process what had happened. Eve had recognized her instantly and chosen to interfere with Martinez's pursuit.

Whatever her reasons, Eve's intervention had altered the dynamics between them. Their separate paths toward justice were no longer merely parallel; they had intersected, with Eve making an active choice that placed her in opposition to her own department.

The safe house overlooked Phoenix Ridge Harbor from an abandoned fish market's second floor, offering unobstructed water views and multiple escape routes.

Reagan recalibrated the transmission interrupter she'd failed to place earlier. The device would now need direct insertion into Fairchild's private security panel—more dangerous, but the only option after Martinez's interference.

Her secure phone vibrated with Sophia's message:Security doubled. Martinez stationed officers at all access points. Elena compromised.

Reagan moved to the window. Moonlight silvered the harbor waters, highlighting the distant lighthouse where she and Eve had once stood, planning a future neither had imagined would fracture.

The memory surfaced: Eve beside her, discussing a case involving a wealthy businessman who'd escaped charges.

"The system isn't perfect," Eve had acknowledged, "but it's the framework we have. We work within it, we improve it, but we don't abandon it."

"And while we wait for improvement, more victims suffer. More predators walk free."

"There's a difference between justice and vengeance," Eve had countered. "Vengeance satisfies something personal but breaks the system further. Justice repairs."

The words echoed across the years. Which was she delivering with each execution? Justice or vengeance? The line had blurred long ago.

Reagan opened a drawer containing cream-colored stationery and began writing:

Eve,

If you're reading this, I failed. But they didn't win.

Under the floorboards at the lighthouse where you once asked me about forever—the spot where we watched sunrise on your birthday—you'll find a safety deposit box key. It opens a vault in Zurich containing everything needed to bring down everyone involved, including names you don't yet know. People higher than Brooks, with federal connections.

The women I've been working with know only pieces. You're the only one I've trusted with everything.

The night they shot me, I saw something I wasn't supposed to see: Fairchild with a missing congressional aide. Her case was on the news for weeks, then vanished. She didn't. The same thing happened to six others. I have proof of where they're buried.

When you told me once there's a line between justice and vengeance, you were right. I crossed it years ago so you wouldn't have to.

The irony isn't lost on me—trusting the system I abandoned to finish what I started. But I trust you, Eve. Always have.

The ring you never got to offer, I would have said yes.

Finish this. Then live the life I couldn't give you.

—R

She sealed the letter in an envelope addressed simply to "Captain E. Morgan" and placed it in a waterproof document case alongside flash drives.

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