Page 98

CHAPTER TEN

J acob put the towel over his shoulders and headed out. The building had a gym, and his preference had him using it before dawn when few others showed up to work out.

The routine didn’t settle his mind. Even with his earbuds in, running seven miles should’ve calmed him, but he still heard the words of that distraught mother in his head.

He wanted to think about Addie.

Instead, he found his thoughts drifting to Carl Harris and the conversation he’d had with Jennie and her granddaughter. About signs he should’ve seen but hadn’t. People who buried terrible secrets.

Who hurt others simply because they believed they had power.

His counselor had told him many times that some things just weren’t his to carry. It was true—he knew it. But getting his heart to believe it was a different story. Doing that almost felt like growing cold to other people’s pain.

Jacob wasn’t sure he wanted to be that guy. It sounded an awful lot like Ivan Damen. Whether he’d wanted to be caught or not didn’t matter. He’d taken life. The problem was that Jacob still hadn’t figured out what guy he wanted to be.

Sixteen floors up he let himself back into the apartment, where a set of keys that didn’t belong to him sat in the dish on the entryway table. “Hank?”

“Kitchen!”

Jacob toed off his running shoes. “There better be coffee.”

“Why do you think I’m here? This fancy Colombian stuff you order is gonna wake me up.” Hank stood at the stove stirring what looked like more cheese than eggs, and the oven was on.

“Bacon?”

One of Jacob’s cats wound its way around Hank’s boots, which meant his friend had fed the animal several treats already. How long had he been here?

“You know it.” Hank attacked the eggs like they were an uncooperative suspect. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt. It was Saturday, but that wasn’t precisely the uniform Benson PD required. Hank had always pushed against authority in ways that might not make sense. As far as Jacob could tell, he just needed to be who he was. Considering Jacob’s path, he could honestly say he understood his friend.

Both of them had been altered. Hank’s girl had been killed by a dangerous man who’d nearly destroyed the rest of them.

“Why do you need my coffee so bad?” Jacob got water from the fridge. “Long night?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t working a case. At least not as a cop.” Hank lifted his brows.

“Dude, you need Jesus.”

Hank laughed like Jacob wasn’t completely serious.

Jacob said, “How long on breakfast?”

“You don’t want to hear about her?”

“Hard pass.”

Hank didn’t turn. “Six minutes?”

By the time Jacob got out of the shower, Hank had pulled the tray of bacon from the oven. He’d have leftovers for three days.

Jacob sat at the breakfast bar with a mug of coffee. His friend ate standing up with his hips against the counter.

Two bites in, Hank paused. “You saw her?”

Jacob frowned, the fork almost to his mouth. Of course Hank would ask about Addie. “Did she put that in the hit-and-run report?”

It was his friend’s turn to frown. “What hit-and-run?”

Jacob laid his fork down and told Hank about seeing Addie in the grocery store aisle and what happened after.

“I didn’t see her name in a report, but I’ll follow up with the responding officer. Make sure we’re good.”

Jacob nodded.

“I wouldn’t worry about her, though.”

“Because she’s a trained FBI agent?” Jacob still thought the car had come at her on purpose. That meant whoever was driving knew who she was.

Who would do that just for the sake of it, injuring a random person they didn’t know or hadn’t ever met? More likely it was targeted. She’d been here only days from what she’d told him and hadn’t done much but catch up with her uncle and sister.

“She’s got so many files to go through she’ll be stuck in the office for a month.” Hank seemed to think that was a good thing. “Can’t hit-and-run someone at their desk.”

Jacob wasn’t so sure he—or Addie—would agree that desk work was a good thing. Then again, Jacob had never held down a real job in his life. He hated filing and he rarely had to do it since he paid all his bills online and e-signed everything.

Addie probably hadn’t become an agent to sit in an office. Then again, what did he know? Her coming home had thrown them all off. His routine was out of whack. Things had to get back to normal eventually, though.

He still wondered what kind of agent she was. Then he got sidetracked with mental images of the young woman he’d known, now carrying a gun and looking all tough. And gorgeous.

He already knew he’d never feel about anyone the way he felt about her. But did she have to occupy this much headspace?

Jacob shook his head. “What is she working on? Does Benson have that many federal cases?”

Hank set his plate in the sink. “Just between you and me?”

Jacob nodded.

“There’s been a rash of murders the last few years. Adds up to a handful, but we’ve been trying to track down the UNSUB.”

“What’s that?”

“Unknown Subject. For when we haven’t identified the person we’re looking for. All we have is a profile, and it’s not much to go on. We’ve pulled out every case we think might be the same guy. They’re spread across two counties and several years.” A muscle in Hank’s jaw flexed.

Jacob didn’t blame him for being mad. “This has been going on for years ?”

“The mayor wanted it kept under wraps. His brother is a senator, so he called in a favor and posted a fed here. They picked Addie. She’s got a background in profiling so she’s a natural fit. She knows the area. People here.” Hank shrugged.

Jacob wasn’t sure she was happy about being here but didn’t know for sure. He wanted to ask her. See how she felt about being reassigned. “It’s gonna be a one-woman office?”

“She’ll get support staff when she chooses them. The field office in Seattle will visit, and she’s got regular conference calls with her SAC to keep him updated. She’s not on her own.”

Jacob wasn’t so sure about that, but still. “You guys are right across the hall, yeah?”

Hank nodded.

Jacob figured that on top of all that she had support. Between the two of them, he and her uncle would give her a safety net. His gun might be dusty, but he had one. If they were hanging out and she got into trouble, he could help.

Except that was ridiculous. As if she wanted his aid to do her job. Hank would never accept it, and she was probably cut from the same cloth. They were both cops, so he figured he knew how it would go down. Jacob nearly shook his head, but then Hank would ask what it was about. No way did she want a photographer as backup when she could call other cops, or feds, to help her.

Jacob pushed his plate away and leaned back on his stool. She would call anyone else before she called him.

Same thing had happened when he was picked as the quarterback in high school. Junior year, he and Hank had been vying for the same spot. Soon as it was announced, his friend ghosted him. Hank never forgave him for getting it. They managed to stay friends, but things weren’t the same after that.

Jacob’s backpack was on a chair at the dining table. On top was the photo album from the studio he’d put in there. Open on the table.

“You kept those?”

Jacob didn’t take his attention from the book. He also didn’t go over and look at it. Maybe later. “It helps. When I build it up too much in my head, I look at it. I remember it was just drywall and vents. A sound system. One man.”

Just the shape of him. Jacob never saw his face. “Lights powered by electricity. The time on the clock on the wall, ticking closer to our rescue. The furniture. Just a place with no idea it was being used for evil intent. Objects that have no hold over me.”

“Like he had.”

Jacob didn’t want that. “Not anymore. It was hours, sure, but then it was done. We got out.” He winced and glanced at his friend. “Sorry.”

Hank looked away. “Becca wouldn’t have wanted us to be victims like she was, still walking around but dead inside. Killed by the same thing that killed her.” His voice didn’t sound anything like what Jacob was used to.

“How do cops deal with seeing stuff like that?”

“Talk it out.” Hank shrugged. “Process it. The way you’re doing with that album. Remember that what happened is in the past, and it doesn’t hold you now. You never forget, though.”

“You never forget.” Jacob blew out a breath. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat wishing I could. Wanting to be done with it. Forget all of it. Be who I was before he took us. Live that life and see where it might’ve gone.”

He’d dreamed that so many times. What life would’ve been like if they’d graduated, and he and Addie were still together. If they got married. Made a family. What he’d have done for work. If he tried to be who his dad thought he should be—when his parents bothered to remember he was there. Burying the artist he hid inside. Being the football star instead of the kid who was the reason his parents had split.

After what happened he’d given up the pretense of trying to be both things just to keep them happy. He’d managed to persuade his mom that he wanted to be a photographer like her. But only so he could capture what’d happened and deal with it in his own way?

Jacob couldn’t help thinking he was probably as much of a disappointment to everyone now as he’d always been. He’d taken the steps he thought were right. So had Hank.

He didn’t even know anymore.

“What?”

Jacob shrugged. “The two of you became cops.”

“And you think you should’ve as well?”

He hesitated. “What do you think?”

“Would you be happy as a cop?” Hank assessed him like Jacob might’ve asked an insulting question. “Reporting for duty, following instructions. Brushing off the frustrations of the justice system. Seeing innocent people get their lives destroyed.”

“No, I wouldn’t be happy.” Still, hiding hadn’t given him peace either. It was quiet, but that wasn’t the same thing.

The only thing that ever gave him peace was…

He glanced at the blinds. If he opened them now, would he see the dawn the way Grandpa had shown him?

Maybe Hank and Addie were more alike than he wanted to admit. That was the crux of it. They were both the kind of people who worked tirelessly to bring the evil in the world to justice. He’d tried to live his life the way he needed to, just like they had.

What had that gained him?

Hank rounded the counter and got in his face. “Aren’t you exactly where you wanted to be?” He paused half a second. “Penthouse isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” Hank laughed and slapped him on the back.

Jacob shoved his friend away. “I offered you a place to live.”

“I like my yard.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. The expression on Hank’s face said it might have more to do with this being his building rather than an apartment having no yard. It wasn’t like he rubbed his success in his friend’s face, but who knew what Hank thought about it?

His friend shot him a look. “When the renovations are done on the fourth floor, you should move down there. See how the other half lives for a while. Get some perspective.”

“I can do the same on a cruise.”

Hank laughed and looked at his watch. “I should get going. Wanna go to the Gopher game later?”

Jacob made a face. “The quarterback needs some help.”

“Maybe since you’re the one who set the state record you should show up. Give him some pointers.”

“Yeah, the coach will love us butting in.” The two of them might have been football stars, but after what happened they’d been famous for entirely different reasons.

Maybe one day Jacob would realize it had been weeks and no one mentioned it. Nothing happened to remind him. But he wasn’t holding his breath that would happen anytime soon.

Hank’s phone rang. “Detective Maxwell.” He listened for a second. “Text me the address. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.

“What happened?”

Hank hesitated. “Fine. A hiker in Prospero Park found a body. Preliminary ID is Celia Jessop.”

Jacob blew out a long breath. “When you have time of death, call me. I’ll come by the station, and we can get it on record that I was nowhere near her. Because I didn’t do it. ”

Hank tossed his plate in the sink with a terrifying clatter. “I’ve got to go, and you’re gonna lay that on me?”

“It’s not a big deal. I just want it confirmed it wasn’t me. Officially.”

Hank reached up and squeezed the back of his neck. “You’re unbelievable. But just so long as you’re clear, right? You’ve got issues, my friend.”

They both knew that wasn’t what was happening here. “Just call me when you know.”

Hank headed for the door without a look back. The cat meowed after him, but Hank shut the door in her face.