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Anger stabbedJake like a spear when he saw the name flashing across his caller ID. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me, Hartwell.”

“Figured you’d blame me,” Hartwell grumbled. “For what it’s worth, I held up my end of things. Still am. Believe me or don’t, but that’s why I’m calling.”

Jake waited while a familiar commotion crackled on Hartwell’s end of the line. “You asked me to keep you in the loop.” Hartwell exhaled. “I shouldn’t even be sharing this … but we found another body.”

Jake had known what was coming before Hartwell managed to get the words out. Even before he heard the sirens in the background, years of training had told him what was coming. “Who?” was all Jake asked.

“No ID. John Doe, early twenties, same MO as Hayes.”

“Where?”

“You with Dr. Gray?” Hartwell asked.

“Yeah. Drop a pin and we’re on our way.”

“Just Gray. If you set foot on scene, we’ve got orders to take you into custody.”

Jake stiffened. “Orders. From who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. In fact, this conversation never happened,” Hartwell insisted. “Just send Dr. Gray.” Then he hung up.

Jake still held the phone to his ear, listening to the deafening silence as Dana stared at him, questions dancing in her eyes. As soon as he put the phone down, she spoke. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

Jake nodded. “Hartwell wants you on scene.”

Dana was already moving toward the door. “Wait, just me?”

“Turns out my voluntary house arrest is more order than suggestion. He made it very clear he’d have no choice but to arrest me if I come anywhere near this.”

“What? On whose orders?”

Jake stared at the news teams still surrounding Dana’s house. “That’s the question.”

“Jake … I don’t have to go.”

“No, you’re our best shot at figuring out what’s going on here. And Hartwell’s right. If I go anywhere near this, it’ll only jeopardize your findings.”

“Jake, crime scenes are your thing. I’m much more comfortable analyzing after the fact.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Gray. You’re a damn good investigator. I wish I was gonna be out there with you, but you’ve got this.” His hand went reflexively to his hip, the foreign absence of his firearm unsettling. “You have your gun?”

She nodded.

“Good. I need to know you’ll use it if necessary.”

“Jake, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, but if I can’t be with you, I need to know you’ll protect yourself.”

She grinned. “I was taught by the best.”

He crossed the room. Stopping in front of Dana he pulled his dog tags from around his neck and pressed them into her hand. “Here.” He didn’t know what possessed him to do it. He wasn’t superstitious. Perhaps Dana’s beliefs were rubbing off on him, or maybe he just wanted to feel like a piece of him was with her.

“Jake, I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he muttered, before pulling Dana into his arms, rules be damned. He dropped a kiss atop her head. “Be careful,” he warned, immediately annoyed at himself for being overbearing, but unable to stop himself, he added, “And if anything feels off, I mean anything, you call me immediately. I’ve got your back.”

Dana laid her hands against his chest, gazing up at him. “I know you do.”

Worry creased the space between her brow, but her gaze was determined, her lips tugging down at the corners. He could tell she was conflicted, fighting her own resolve not to kiss him. He pulled her closer, not doing a damn thing to help.

Dana tipped her chin up, her dark eyes drinking him in. But Claire’s blood-curdling scream ensured Jake would never know what side of conflict Dana had been aiming to settle on.

Jake rushed into the living room, Dana behind him.

Claire stood in front of the television, news footage of Hartwell’s crime scene filling the screen.

“You don’t need to see this,” Jake said, trying to take the remote from Claire, but she yanked it back.

“No, you don’t understand. I know him.”

“Max?” Dana asked, her voice full of apprehension.

Claire shook her head violently. “It’s Lincoln.”