He nods. “Clearly, I have a reason now.”
“Clearly.” I shake my head. “How do you think someone knew to look for me? Do you think I was followed here?”
“I think someone has been monitoring that case, and when I requested the files, it sent up a red flag.”
“But they went for me, not you. Probably because I’m not an armed police officer.”
“I’ll find him, Beckett.”
“I know you will.” I take a deep breath. “I won’t walk away from this, Shawn. Even after what happened tonight.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” he says.
“Do you think your captain will let you look into it now?”
“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t. There’s no way I’m walking away now.”
“Even if it gets you into trouble?”
“Even if it costs me my badge,” he replies.
I stare at him, his words catching me completely off guard. I don’t know how to respond. Surely, he’s not serious. We barely know each other; why would he risk his career to help me findthe truth when he could just send me on my way and save himself the trouble?
8.Shawn
After a restless night of failed sleep, I finally gave up and headed out to the garage to get my morning workout in. It’s not quite five in the morning yet, but I’ve already successfully worked up an impressive sweat. Although the frustration coursing through my veins hasn’t gotten any better.
She nearly died.
For a case they deemed an accident.
Why?
I rack the squat bar, then roll my shoulders and drop down for another set of pushups. Normally, I have a better plan whenever I come out here, but today, I’m doing whatever I can to work off the nightmare that woke me up once I’d finally fallen asleep.
In it, I was too late to save her.
By the time I reached Beckett, her attacker had already drained the life out of her eyes, and I’d found her just like that—pale and wide-eyed, like so many of the countless homicides I’ve worked over the years.
Once I hit fifty, I take a break. Instead of going in for another set of squats, though, I grab the shaker bottle with my electrolyteand BCAA mixture. I down what’s left, then run the back of my wrist over my sweat-beaded forehead.
“Room for another?”
Nearly jumping out of my skin, I turn to see Beckett standing in the doorway, wearing leggings, a baggy t-shirt, and tennis shoes. She’s tied her dark hair back in a messy bun, and the bruises around her throat are even more prominent now.
Still, there’s such light surrounding her. A strength all the more noticeable now that she’s survived something meant to send her running home.
Because I know I’m staring, I clear my throat. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.” She steps into my gym and nods. “This is impressive, Detective.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Do you mind if I jump in?” she asks.
“Not at all. Go for it.”
“Thanks,” she says with a smile before heading over toward the yoga mat I set up for stretching mid-workout. I’m unable to tear my gaze from her as she drops down on the mat in a plank position, her head dropping forward.
