Page 102 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Jake zipped his duffle closed. He stood, taking stock of his apartment. A mix of melancholy and fondness filled him. It was unexpected. His blank walls and black leather furniture stared back at him like they always did—void of warmth or comfort.

The place wasn’t a home. There’d been brief periods of times when Jake let himself believe it could be, but they never lasted.

He’d always thought it was the job that got in the way. But maybe it was more than that.

It’d been years since he left the Army, but he could still fit his entire life into a rucksack. At what point did he assume the blame?

One more look around the cold, empty apartment. He felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the finality of his decision. He shook his head, pushing the thought away.

Jake picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. As he turned to go, his gaze caught on the lone splash of color—a refrigerator magnet Dana had bought for him.

It was a souvenir from a case long ago, one that had left them both with scars and memories. Dana had insisted he keep it, a token of resilience, a reminder of their shared victories. And here it was, still clinging to his fridge amidst the emptiness of his apartment.

The buzz in his pocket chased the memory away. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered under his breath.

Jake didn’t need to see his phone to know it was Dana on the other end. If nothing else, the woman was relentless. Jake had lost track of the missed calls and unanswered text messages. But he knew if he didn’t call Dana back soon, he’d pay for it.

Twenty-four hours. That was their rule. If they went longer than that without proof of life, the other had cause to worry. He didn’t want to do that to her.

Jake’s conversation with Nowak had made things unexpectedly clear. Making decisions had never been difficult for Jake. It was justifying them to others that he found challenging.

Still, he’d have to tell Dana eventually. No time like the present.

By the time Jake fished his phone from his pocket it’d stopped ringing. He fought the ghost of a smile that found him in anticipation of seeing Dana’s face on his missed call list. But Jake’s smile quickly dissipated when he saw the missed call number flash across his screen. It wasn’t Dana.

The country code was France. The rest of the numbers told him the call was coming from Paris. He took a deep breath debating whether to return the call. Before he’d come to a decision, his phone began ringing again. The same caller.

Skipping formalities, Jake pressed answer. Clutching the phone to his ear, he spoke. “I told you not to contact me again.”