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“I have this.” He reached for the briefcase he’d set at his feet, settled it across his lap, and opened it, withdrawing asingle eight-by-ten photo, holding it up for her. “It was taken yesterday. He’s been in your vicinity.”
The image looked familiar. Reese bounced off the couch and crossed the room to examine it more closely. It was the background that first caught her eye, taken on the sidewalk in front of the Start Me Up coffee shop she visited occasionally, directly across from this apartment building. Her gaze slowly traveled to the rangy man shown in the dingy hoodie. The hood and sunglasses shadowed his clean-shaven face, but she recognized his build. Her mind numbly filled in the facial features his former beard would have masked. Thorne.
Ice bumped through her veins. If the blinds had been raised and he’d had binoculars, he’d be staring directly into this apartment.
She wiped suddenly damp palms down the front of her jeans. “He was so close.” And she’d been completely unaware. Unsuspecting. Panic did a fast sprint through her system.
“He either had assistance or we underestimated how competent he could be when it comes to carrying out one of his missions.”
Adam replaced the picture in the briefcase and set it on the floor. “A year and a half ago, you and your colleague were obstacles to him reaching his goal. Hindrances to be removed, much as you’d swat a fly before it could ruin your masterpiece. But now he recognizes you present a different sort of threat. You know too much about him. He has a long psychiatric history. He’s certainly used to having doctors probe his mind. But I’d hazard a guess you’re the first to understand his true inner identity. And that had to terrify him. Remember what you told me? ‘Their guilt shines the way. All I do is follow the path it illuminates.’”
“If you’re considering using me as bait to draw him out, you should also remember I told you I don’t have that…ability anymore. It’s gone. Hopefully, for good.”
“Maybe it is. Perhaps not.”
Reese studied him. He was a man of science and facts who didn’t entertain fools gladly. Once again, she wondered why he hadn’t just dismissed what she’d admitted to him in the hospital. Most wouldn’t believe it. Under different circumstances, if an interviewee had told her that about themselves, she’d have given a mental eye roll.
She could hide. Reese wasn’t proud of the sudden unbidden thought. She’d taken a leave of absence when Julia died and hadn’t returned to work yet. After the funeral, she’d fled to her aunt’s cabin with its scenic view and endless solitude that only summoned the memories she was still desperately fighting to forget. Her time away had been torment. She wouldn’t willingly go back.
“I’m not running.” The words were as much for herself as for the man sitting across the room.
“That is, of course, up to you. My purpose here is to make you aware of the danger. And to provide you a measure to mitigate it.”
A knot formed in her stomach. “What’s that?”
He took a cell from his pocket, thumbed in a number, and spoke briefly before getting up from the chair with the help of his cane and going to the door to pull it open. Another man entered. “Hello, Reese.”
His voice had the floor tilting beneath her feet. A roar sounded in Reese’s ears. Her mind vaulted back to the moment when she’d been engulfed in agony, barely aware of the sound of boots pounding down the narrow stairway. The dark-garbed alien figures filled the small space. One of them had come to her side, looming above her. The fireball of pain engulfingher had tentacles branching to every nerve ending, skipping along synapses to create a chorus of excruciating suffering. The stranger had methodically rinsed her eye out, murmuring to her in low tones that managed to sound both competent and soothing. She recognized the voice, but not his face. It was too handsome by far. A shock of black hair. Gray eyes that seemed to see too much.
Reese had always hoped never to meet him again. He or any other witness to her torment.
But he was here, in her home, his very presence flinging her back to a time she was still trying desperately to outrun. He was a living testament to the most vulnerable moments in her life.
“I believe you’ve met Hayes Moreland, although you probably didn’t get around to exchanging names.”
Reese could barely hear Adam’s words. Dread spread inside her chest. “Why’d you bring him?”
“He’s your protective detail. He’ll stay close, until Thorne is caught.”
Protective detail. The words blazed through her mind like a jet stream. Only then did Reese notice the luggage Moreland carried.
“Just point me to the spare bedroom and I’ll put my things away.”
4
“Oh, hell no.”
Reese rose and rounded the couch, putting it between her and both men. Her rudeness didn’t seem to bother them. “There’s a hotel on the next block. He’ll be plenty close there.”
“Proximity is the first guardrail in protection. Moreland stays until we get a handle on Thorne’s whereabouts. Something tells me you’re not willing to be a captive in your own home. He’ll accompany you wherever you need to go. Interviews and whatnot.” Raiker waved at the piles of papers that covered every flat surface in the space. Papers he probably assumed were part of the book Gordon had his mind set on. But they were contents of files about Ben’s care kept in her aunt’s safe. The source for the questions the woman had scribbled in margins on documents and sticky notes that were still awaiting answers.
Anxiety thrummed through her, and she damned the timing. She needed to delve into gathering the information her aunt had sought, and doing so with a babysitter was about as welcome as attaching a boat anchor as adornment.
“It may only be a matter of days.”
“May be.” She repeated Moreland’s words sardonically.
“Enough.” With a return to his usual brusqueness, Adam speared her with a look. “Unless you have a death wish, having protection is a no-brainer. And if youdohave a death wish, there’s an even greater need for his presence.” He picked up his briefcase. “Hayes will keep you informed of developments in Thorne’s recapture. Until then, he stays.” He strode toward the door. Through it.