Page 33 of Deadly Force
Wracked with uncertainty, I return to my prayer, pleading with God to shine a light on this. Not just for me, but so the darkness will be made visible.
“Please, don’t let her death be just another statistic… another number. She was someone’s little girl… a daughter, maybe a sister…”
The words catch in my throat. There must be people who love her, who are waking up this morning to a world without her in it.
My prayer is cut off by the sound of Caleb on the other side of the door. Even through the wood, his voice sends a shiver of awareness through me. Professional, controlled, but I can hear the exhaustion underneath. He’s been making calls, taking care of things while I fell apart.
Taking a breath and asking for guidance one last time, I return and find Caleb at the small table. Coffee in one hand, phone in the other, speaking in low, measured tones to someone at Hightower.
The sight of him stops me in my tracks. He’s rumpled from sleep—or lack of it—but there’s something magnetic about the way he commands the space. Even tired, even dealing with crisis, he radiates a quiet authority that makes me feel safer just being in the same room.
His voice is calm, but I see the tension in his shoulders, the fatigue in the way he pinches the bridge of his nose. The call ends and he looks over, a tentative smile tugging at his mouth. “Want some bad coffee?”
Even now, even in the middle of everything falling apart, he’s trying to shield me.
“I want to know what that phone call was about.”
The words come out sharper than I intended, but he doesn’t flinch. If anything, that small smile grows a little. “Figured.”
Of course he did. He’s starting to know me, starting to understand how my mind works.
He sets the mug down and meets my gaze, steady and unflinching. “It was Zack again. Looks like there may be some inconsistencies we need to check on.”
Hope flickers to life in my chest. “Like what?”
He nods, a slight grin on his weary face. “My primary focus is keeping you safe, but as long as we’re careful, Silas is okay if we want to conduct our own investigation.”
I swallow hard, heat creeping up my neck and across my cheeks. He’s doing this for me. He doesn’t owe me anything—we barely know each other—but he’s willing to put himself on the line because he wants to help me find the truth.
I’m so overwhelmed, my feet feel rooted to the floor. My mouth is dry, my thoughts scrambled, and I can’t seem to form the words that should be easy tosay. How do you thank someone for seeing you, for believing in you, for standing with you when your world falls apart? How do you express gratitude that runs deeper than words?
“She didn’t commit suicide,” I blurt. “It doesn’t make sense.”
The words aren’t what I meant to say, but they’re true. And maybe focusing on the case is safer than examining the feelings churning in my chest.
Caleb’s gaze doesn’t shift. He just watches me, steady and calm, his head tilting the slightest fraction.
“Maybe not,” he says softly. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“We’ll?” The word sends a thrill through me. Partnership. Not just protection, but true collaboration. He’s not just keeping me safe, he’s including me, respecting my need to be part of finding the truth.
One eyebrow lifts, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. We.”
“You’re including me?”
I can’t hide the wonder in my voice. After years of being dismissed by editors, of being told to leave the real investigative reporting to veterans, of being treated like I need protecting rather than partnering, Caleb is offering me exactly what I need.
“Too hard to keep you out,” he says, voice low,eyes locked on mine. “Especially when I’m stuck to you like Velcro.”
He’s trying to keep it light, but I hear what’s beneath it. To confirm it, he huffs a quiet breath. “Just try not to make it harder than it needs to be.”
I want to tell him I won’t.
That I won’t take unnecessary risks.
But I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.
Caleb
