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‘You gotta go,’ Martinsaid.
‘Guess I can’t hideanything from you,’ Mia smirked. ‘Edis needs me and Dark out in Wisconsin.Plane leaves in two hours.’
Mia felt the mask ofher professional persona slip over her features, a seamless transition from thewoman enjoying a rare moment of tranquillity to the seasoned FBI agent poisedfor action. She moved to gather her essentials – the weapons, the badge, thecarefully constructed armor of her career – each item a weight added to thescale tipping her away from the life she longed for. As she holstered her gun,she caught Martin's reflection in the chrome fireplace, his posture relaxed yetvigilant, the embodiment of support without reservation.
‘It never gets easier,does it?’ he mused softly, rising to his feet.
‘Which part?’ Miaasked, meeting his gaze in the reflection. ‘Leaving or staying?’
‘Both,’ he answered,stepping closer to wrap his arms around her from behind. The embrace was afleeting sanctuary that Mia would never shy away from. ‘Be safe out there.You're too good at this to not come back to me.’
She leaned back intohim, letting the solid presence of Martin ground her for a moment longer beforebreaking away. ‘I always do,’ she replied. It was a promise she intended tokeep. ‘What’re your plans?’
‘How long are you gonefor?’
‘How long is a game ofchess?’
‘Touché,’ Martin said.‘I’ll find something to do. Would you mind if I set up a shooting range in thegarage?’
Mia moved to thekitchen in search of her Glock .17. ‘A shooting range? What for?’ she shouted back.
‘Why do you think?’Martin said. ‘To practice shooting.’
‘Put a hole in mywalls and I’ll put a hole in you,’ she called. She found her Glock, took itinto the living room and threw it in her bag.
‘Don’t threaten mewith a good time,’ Martin said. ‘Do you mind if I stay here while you’re gone?’
‘I’ll have to ask thelandlord. Uh, she says it’s fine,’ Ripley winked. ‘But seriously, no holes.This place is impenetrable. Just because I’m winding down, doesn’t mean I stilldon’t deal with maniacs who would kill me soon as look at me, okay?’
Martin bit his lip.‘If it’s impenetrable, then…’
Ripley cut him offwith her famous stare. One that once drove a man to confession without the needfor words.
‘Fine,’ Martinchuckled, surrendering to Mia’s unspoken command with a salute.
Mia double – checkedshe had everything in her bag – gun, ammunition, badge, clothes, notepad,laptop. She moved to the door and paused with her hand on the knob.
‘Keep the chess gamegoing,’ she said, a soft smile breaking through the steel in her voice. ‘I wantto see who wins when I get back.’
As she walked brisklyto her car, Mia dialed Ella's number and pressed the phone to her ear.
Two rings later, therookie picked up.
‘Dark,’ Ripley said.‘Sorry to bother you again, but we’re going on a trip to Wisconsin.’
Mia Ripley slippedinto her car, the hunt calling her name one more – and perhaps final – time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ella’s gaze was lockedon the shrinking D.C. skyline, the plane climbing higher and leaving behind theworld she knew – a landscape marred with too many memories. The city where shehad built her career now felt like a tableau of loss and unresolved questions.As the aircraft pierced through the clouds, the sun cast an amber glow over thePotomac River, but the beauty did nothing to ease the turmoil inside.
Her thoughts were arelentless rollercoaster. Ben's words from their last conversation echoed inher mind, his request for a break that felt more like a chasm opening betweenthem. Then there was Randall Carter, the former FBI director whose death had sentripples through the bureau, followed by the demise of Logan Nash – the manwho’d killed her father and not lived to see real justice.
Both deaths, untimelyand shrouded in mystery, weighed on her conscience like leaden shrouds.
The emotional vertigowas palpable, each memory a jolt that surged through her with the force of theplane's ascent. Yet, amidst the personal chaos, Ella's instincts remainedrazor–sharp, her senses keenly attuned to the job at hand – the very thing thatkept her grounded when everything else seemed to be slipping away.
‘Dark skies ahead,’Mia Ripley's voice cut through the hum of the engines, pulling Ella back fromthe edge of her reverie.
