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“Is there anything else you need before I head out for the evening?”
“Not a thing, Arden.” Brook closed the distance to her desk, where a small electric heater kept the area warm. Others had said time and again that her office was like that of a sauna, but she preferred to work in comfort. “Be careful on the drive home.”
“Oh, I took the bus today,” Arden replied as he smoothed down the sides of his salt-and-pepper mustache. “I had a feeling that the stormfront would arrive earlier than expected, and I didn’t want to be caught driving in that mess. It’s best to let the professionals handle the stress of such a feat.”
Arden was referring to the bus drivers. She had noticed that he’d been taking the bus lately, and she didn’t believe that his reasoning had anything to do with the weather. He had been squinting at his computer screen lately. He would realize soon that his vision had slipped due to age. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate the news coming from her, and seeing as she admired his sense of pride, she wouldn’t be the one to dent it.
“Goodnight, Arden.”
Brook monitored him closely as he walked across the marble tile of the reception area to his desk. He began his nightly routine, from forwarding the main line to an answering service to shutting down his desktop computer.
Arden was a creature of habit, much like her, but for very different reasons.
Brook couldn’t prevent her gaze from drifting to the black metal sign hanging on the wall behind Arden. S&E Investigations, Inc., the private consulting firm that she jointly owned with a silent partner, wasn’t much different than working with the FBI. Her familial relationship with a serial killer had been bound to interfere with her previous consulting agreement, but she had no regrets for the decisions that she had made to reach this point in her life.
The Bureau had undeniably refined the abilities that she’d had to learn to survive as Jacob Matthew Walsh’s sister. The federal agency had also accomplished to instill in her other ways that benefited her pursuit of justice. She had voluntarily entered the academy to understand the physical aspects of the job, and she had come away with so much more.
It took Arden approximately eight minutes to go through his end-of-day routine. Brook figured she might as well take advantage of the fresh coffee that he’d brewed for her, so she reached for her coffee mug.
There was one word printed on the front—BOSS.
It was a nickname given to her by Bobby “Bit” Nowacki.
Considering that Bit was usually one of the last team members to leave for the evening, she had been surprised to see him head out right after their afternoon meeting. He had mentioned meeting the young woman who he had been dating recently, and he was taking advantage of the downtime that the firm had between cases. As the firm’s tech expert, it was rare that he was able to claim some personal time.
Brook exited her office, which not only had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, but also floor-to-ceiling windows overseeing the large receptionist area and that of the lobby near the elevator banks.
The space that she had chosen might have seemed odd to others, but she preferred the ability to see the sparse foot traffic. It was the reason that she had chosen such modern décor. Considering that S&E Investigations, Inc. shared the fourteenth floor with a hedge fund group, it wasn’t like they were a hubbub of activity, sans their own employees. There were really no major distractions in exchange for a modicum sense of security. Such safeguards came in the way of the biometric scanner needed to enter their offices.
It didn’t take Brook long to replenish her coffee from the carafe that Arden had set in the middle of the kitchen counter. The perfect amount of cinnamon that he’d added to the rich beverage made it so that she didn’t have to add cream or sugar. As she strolled down the hallway to return to her office, she was struck by how quiet it was so early in the evening. Whether the team was working on cold cases at the request of clients or investigating an active case due to their consulting agreement with the FBI, they didn’t conform to regular office hours.
Theo Neville had dinner plans with a woman whom he’d met jogging in one of the city’s parks, and Sylvie Deering had been needed at home. Her father had been in hospice for the past couple of months, and he had round-the-clock care by a team of professionals. Brook couldn’t stop her gaze from seeking out a framed photograph as she strolled past the office next to hers.
Her silent business partner, Graham Elliott, had been a former Commanding General of Marine Forces Special Operations. He was rarely in the offices given the defense contracts that he had taken upon retiring from the military.
Retirement wasn’t suited for someone like Graham.
He also happened to be much more than a business associate. He had placed the photograph of the two of them on his desk with the expectation that they would not need to come right out and announce such a change in their relationship to the team. Bit, of course, was the only one who had needed verbal verification.
The faint ringtone of her phone could be heard coming from her office. She should have carried her cell with her to the kitchen, but she hadn’t expected the scheduled call for another forty-five minutes. By the time she crossed the threshold and made it to her desk, all without spilling a drop of her coffee, the call had been sent to voicemail. Not bothering to wait for the message, Brook exchanged her mug for her phone. She pressed the caller’s name to initiate another call.
“This is Sylvie Deering. Please leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as—”
Brook ended the connection before trying once more. When the second call went straight to voicemail once more, she left her own message.
“Sylvie, sorry about that. I was in the kitchen. We seem to be missing one another, so I’ll just wait for you to call me back.”
Brook settled in her chair, taking the time to shift her space heater closer to her desk so that the warm air would be directed toward her legs. She then kicked off her high heels before concentrating on her computer screen. She planned to spend the rest of the evening going over the missing persons file of a young girl by the name of Stella Bennett. She had been missing since 1996, and Brook was confident that Stella had been Jacob’s first victim.
“Have you heard from Bit since he left the office following our afternoon meeting?”
Brook’s gaze was drawn to Arden, who stood with a frown in her doorway.
“No, but I hadn’t expected to since he had plans with Zoey this evening,” Brook replied as she reached for her coffee. “Is there a problem?”
“Zoey just called the main line looking for him,” Arden revealed as he shifted his weight from one leg to another in concern. “Bit was supposed to meet her at six o'clock, and she was just checking to see if he’d left the office since he wasn’t answering his cell phone. I assured her that he left a couple of hours ago, only he isn’t answering calls from me, either.”
“It’s only twenty minutes after six,” Brook said after glancing at the time on her computer screen. “I’m sure that Bit is just running late.”
