"Good. Delilah, I want you to check in with me daily until we resolve this situation. Call if anything concerns you, no matter how small. And if Dr. Shaw attempts any further contact, you document everything and call me immediately."
Lila nods eagerly, the picture of someone grateful for protection and guidance. "I will. Detective Rivas, thank you for taking this seriously. I know it must sound paranoid—"
"It doesn't sound paranoid at all," he interrupts. "It sounds like someone who's learned to recognize danger. Trust those instincts."
As we prepare to leave, I catch the way Nate and Rivas exchange business cards with the kind of professional courtesy that suggests potential future cooperation. Nate is already positioning himself as a valuable resource, someone the department might want to cultivate for larger projects or civic initiatives.
In the elevator, none of us speak until we're back in the lobby and out of earshot of any potential surveillance.
"That went perfectly," Nate says quietly, his voice carrying satisfaction and professional pride. "Rivas is completely invested in protecting you now, and he's going to pursue the Shaw angle with exactly the kind of dedication you need."
"He believed every word," Lila agrees, but there's something analytical in her tone that suggests she's still processing the interaction. "Detective Rivas wants to solve this case so badly he's willing to accept my narrative without much scrutiny."
"Guilt is a powerful motivator," Nate observes. "Especially for someone who takes his responsibility to protect people seriously."
We walk toward the parking lot, and I can see Lila studying Nate with the kind of focused attention she brings to analyzing psychological profiles.
"You're not what I expected," she says finally.
Nate grins, the expression transforming his face from serious professional to something more charming, more approachable. "What did you expect?"
"Someone more like Kent. Quiet, methodical, operating from the shadows." She glances at me, then back at Nate. "You're more…visible. More connected to legitimate power structures."
"Different survival strategies," Nate explains easily. "Kent's approach is to avoid attention entirely. Mine is to be so well-connected that questioning me becomes inconvenient for the people who might want to ask difficult questions."
The assessment is accurate and revealing, highlighting the fundamental difference between our approaches to staying safe while operating outside legal boundaries. Where I've chosen invisibility, Nate has chosen integration.
"Both effective," Lila notes, and there's approval in her voice that makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
We reach my truck, and Nate extends his hand to Lila again, this time with genuine warmth rather than professional courtesy.
"Ms. Jenkins, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I can see why Kent considers you worth protecting."
"Call me Lila," she says, accepting his handshake with a smile that's more genuine than anything she showed Detective Rivas. "And thank you for helping today. I know Kent trusts you completely."
"He should," Nate replies, then turns to me with an expression that carries both affection and concern. "Drive carefully, brother. And remember—if this situation escalates beyond what local law enforcement can handle, I have resources that might help."
The offer is carefully phrased, but the implications are clear. Nate's connections extend beyond legitimate business relationships into territories where problems can be solved through means that don't appear in official reports.
"I'll keep that in mind," I tell him, meaning it completely.
As we drive away, Lila settles back in her seat with the kind of satisfied exhaustion that comes from a successful performance.
"Your foster brother is impressive," she says. "Charming, connected, obviously successful. But there's something predatory underneath all that polish."
The observation makes me smile despite the seriousness of our situation. "Nate's always been ambitious. He just figured out how to make ambition look respectable."
"He cares about you, though. That much is genuine."
"We survived the same hell together," I say simply. "That creates bonds that don't break."
Lila is quiet for a moment, processing this information along with everything else she's observed about Nate. When she speaks again, her voice carries the kind of thoughtful analysis I remember from her letters.
"He's dangerous in a completely different way than you are," she says. "You're dangerous because you're willing to act outside the system when justice requires it. Nate's dangerous because he's figured out how to make the system work for him regardless of what justice requires."
The distinction is perceptive and accurate, highlighting something I've always understood about my relationship with Nate without quite articulating it.
"Does that concern you?" I ask.
