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Brook hadn't realized that she'd been holding her breath until her lungs expanded what air had been trapped inside of them. Her stomach heaved at the thought of what her brother could have done to whoever had been in the house, yet her mind reassured her that it wasn't in his nature to act spontaneously.
He would have had a plan in place.
He wasn't one to react under pressure like the unsub who she was about to bring down due to his own missteps.
"I take it no one was injured?"
"No," Graham replied, still monitoring her reaction. "I guess I should thank him, really. He fixed the problem with the flue while leaving my housekeeper very much alive. He was also fond of my book collection, which he perused at his leisure. I don't need to tell you that he finds our...relationship...very compelling."
"He'll get bored once he realizes it's strictly a business arrangement that benefits the both of us." Brook began to take off her gloves even though her fingers were still numb. It gave her something to focus on other than the man standing in front of her. "I take it he posed as a repairman of some sort. Do you have digital footage?"
"Yes." Graham handed over a USB, which she took and slipped into the pocket of her dress coat. "The hat was low on his forehead, and he now has a full beard, but it's definitely him."
Brook didn't even have to ask if he'd given a copy of the footage to Houser. Graham wouldn't have done so without first consulting her. He was leaving it in her hands to decide if and when she handed the evidence over to the feds. It was something she'd have to think on before making a final decision, though.
"I'm sorry." Brook began to unfasten the buttons on her dress coat, using the mundane task to try and get her thoughts in order. "I truly am. I know what it's like to have Jacob violate your personal space."
"You are not responsible for your brother's rash decisions. On a side note, do you want to tell me why you are carrying your personal firearm?"
Brook's coat had parted just enough for Graham to see the holster on her waist. Her sweater had ridden up a bit due to her briefcase and purse rubbing against her coat.
"Do I need a reason? I am investigating a series of murders, two of which just so happened to be committed within the last twenty-four hours." Brook had done her best to not give any outward signs of distress over the fact that her brother had invaded Graham's home. She would wait until she'd delivered him the man responsible for the death of his daughter before she focused on Jacob. "I think we've had a breakthrough, which is why I need to join the rest of the team upstairs."
Graham clearly hadn't parked in the parking garage. She glanced around him to find his silver Mercedes next to the curb right outside her building. She was usually so cautious about her surroundings. The fact that she hadn't noticed told her that she was off her game, and that was something she couldn't afford to be at this moment. Such carelessness could cost her...her life.
"You figured it out."
The anguish in Graham's voice almost prompted the name of the unsub to fall from her lips. He'd waited so long to discover who had murdered his daughter, and it was cruel of her to think that he should wait another hour or two while she and the team searched for enough solid evidence for an official arrest.
NCIS Agent Ento and Ingram were waiting for her call.
Still, until she had concrete evidence of guilt, she didn't want to give Graham any false hope.
"I think you should—"
Brook caught movement in the falling snow, causing her to break off her words. Graham turned to discover that a vehicle had pulled up and parked behind his car. They both waited for whoever was inside to shift the vehicle into park. It was so late at night that Brook didn't fool herself into thinking that it was someone from one of the other offices in the building or even a bank employee.
When the driver revealed himself, it was Graham whose tone changed from anguish to steel.
"What is Daniel Snyder doing here, Brook?"
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sylvie Deering
January 2022
Wednesday — 11:48pm
"Anything?"
Sylvie walked back into Bit's workspace with another cup of tea in hand. She would have thought with all the computer equipment, networking wires, and the fact that Bit practically survived on energy drinks that the area would have had an odd electrical scent of ozone lingering in the air. Surprisingly, there was almost a woodsy fragrance that enveloped her as she crossed the threshold.
"Not from the last batch of photos," Bit replied as he concentrated on the one monitor that they were hoping would display a match of some sort.
They had spent hours combing through the pictures that had male subjects in the background, hoping to find someone who matched the profile or had a link with the victim or their families.
Their entire search had been sidelined once they'd received a call from Brook.
