Page 31 of Jason Bourne (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #7)

Lane

T he station was quiet, the hum of the old soda machine the only sound. Jason had a meeting with the SEALS, I couldn’t shake Harris’s words. Zoe Brewer.

I pulled out my phone and hit her number. She answered on the third ring.

“Lane? It’s midnight. Somebody better be bleeding.”

“Good to hear your voice, too, sis.”

There was a pause. Then Zoe’s voice sharpened. “You’ve got Harris, don’t you?”

I froze. “How the hell—”

“Because I’ve been on him even before we were kidnapped. He’s connected to a trafficking pipeline running from Reno through the city. Every time I get close, he slips. Now he’s up there with you.”

I rubbed my temple. “Zoe, I didn’t even know you were working him.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t exactly call home every time I have a new case.”

Typical Zoe—direct, sharp as a blade.

“He mentioned you,” I said carefully. “Like he knew exactly who you were.”

“That’s because he’s scared of me,” she shot back. Then her tone softened, just a little. “Be careful, Lane. Harris isn’t just a low-level runner anymore. He’s got backing. Real money. Real teeth.”

I glanced through the window into the holding cell where Harris sat slouched in the shadows, lips moving like he was talking to ghosts. “He’s not scared. He’s planning.”

“Then don’t underestimate him. I’ll pull my files together and bring them up there in a few days.”

“Zoe—”

“Don’t argue. You’ve got your hands full. Let me do what I do best.”

The line clicked dead. I was a year younger, and she had always treated me like I needed to be watched over.

I pocketed the phone, staring at the empty hallway. For the first time since putting this badge on, I realized this wasn’t just about proving I could fit on this mountain.

This was bigger.

And now Zoe was on her way.