Page 22 of When He Defends

Sherry’s dark brows snapped together. “No one.” She looked up. “No one is checked into room four.” Her lips pursed. “You must have made a mistake. Lights were probably always off.”

No, they had not been. He’d seen the lights. So had Emerson. “If no one is in the room,” he said, keeping all emotion from his voice even as rage still twisted within him.Someone broke into Emerson’s motel room. Someone trashed her room. Mine.“If no one is inside, then there is no reason you can’t unlock the door to room four and let us in.”

“Well…” A pop of a bubble. “Sure, why not?”

Why not, indeed?

She led them to the room. Unlocked the door and swung it open. “You can see for yourselves,” Sherry declared as she poked her hand inside and flipped on the lights. “No one has been—” But her words stopped.

Because someone had been inside. A can of red spray paint sat in the middle of the bed. Something that had been deliberately left behind. As if…

As if you wanted us to know that you were here.

Gray pulled his gaze off the spray can and glanced at Emerson. She stood behind him, but was peering into the room, and he knew she’d seen the spray paint, too.

Leave.His message.

And, for her…

You’ll die.

The hell she would.

“That’s weird,” Sherry noted, voice catching a little bit. “The spray paint isn’t supposed to be here, you know?”

“I know,” he returned grimly.

Chapter Five

“To figure out the way to break killers, you just have to understand their weakness. Everyone has a weakness, after all. The best profilers—and agents—know how to exploit weaknesses.” – Gray Stone, from an undated lecture to FBI recruits at Quantico

One week since Briar…

“Aim and shoot.”

Emerson raised her brows at Gray. “Thank you,” she said barely containing an eye roll. “I had no idea what I should do here at the shooting gallery.”

“Smartass, why don’t you just focus on hitting the targets?”

She could feel eyes on them. Far too many eyes. “I know how to shoot.”

“Great. You’ll prove that to me right now.”

They’d been back in Atlanta for two days. They’d stayed in Briar—at anewmotel—for a time in order to make certain the case against Jake Waller was air tight.

Gray had sprung this practice routine on her with zero warning when she’d walked into the FBI office that morning. She’d already checked the weapon. The target waited. But she didn’t put on her ear protection and get into firing position. Not yet. “What’s the purpose of this little exercise?”

“To make sure that you can shoot.”

“Smartass,” she returned without missing a beat.

From nearby, Emerson was pretty sure she heard a snort from another agent.

Gray put his hands on his hips. “Fine. The purpose is to make sure that when we enter dangerous situations, I know that I can trust you to cover me.”

“You think I can’t handle myself?” Now that was insulting.

“I think you skipped out on a whole lot of training,freelance consultant.”