Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents #7)(13)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“I lead,” Dylan said. “Thomas, you stay down here just in case he tries to run.” His gaze held Rachel’s. “You watch my back. I watch yours.”

That was the way it normally was for them. Rachel nodded.

They rushed up the flight of stairs that would take them to the second level. Her feet pounded in a fast rhythm that nearly matched her heartbeat. They burst onto the second floor.

Dylan’s door was shut.

He glanced at her.

Rachel nodded.

Dylan yanked on the knob—open—and he burst inside. Rachel was right beside him. They went in with their weapons up, and they cleared the place, room by room.

Jack wasn’t there.

No one was.

Rachel paused beside Dylan’s bed. Her feet crunched on broken glass. She frowned. The glass was there, but she didn’t know where it had come from. “Dylan…?”

“He’s gone.” He yanked out his phone and then, barely two seconds later, he said, “Thomas, he’s not up here. Start sweeping the perimeter because he couldn’t have gone far, not yet.”

Rachel backed away from the bed as Dylan kept giving his orders. When he ended the call with Thomas, Dylan contacted the EOD office and asked for a forensics team to meet at his place.

But Rachel doubted the team would find any fingerprints on the scene. Jack was too good to leave any traces behind. She turned away, determined to go and help Thomas with his search.

“No.” Dylan’s sharp voice stopped her.

She glanced back.

“Not without me,” he said. “The guy’s close, too close, and he’s playing with us.”

A break-in at her place. A break-in at his. Rachel wasn’t sure that Jack was playing with them, though. “I think he’s researching us.”

A faint line appeared between Dylan’s dark brows.

“It’s what he does,” Rachel continued. She’d made it her mission to learn as much as she possibly could about Jack and his victims. “He researches his prey. Learns their weaknesses, and then he goes in for the kill.”

It wasn’t just a game to Jack.

It was life…and death.

Chapter Three

Rachel held her body perfectly still as she sat in the conference room at the EOD. Bruce Mercer had just walked into the room. She figured the EOD boss was pushing sixty, but he was still completely fit and incredibly intimidating.

He’d intimidated Rachel from the first moment she’d met him. According to the whispers she’d heard, Mercer was the man pulling the strings in D.C. He knew all the secrets the politicians wanted to keep hidden, and he could expose those secrets at any time.

But Mercer wasn’t the only one to enter that conference room. Noelle Evers followed him inside.

Rachel tried not to let her surprise show. Noelle Evers—Dr. Noelle Evers—wasn’t EOD. Or at least she hadn’t been. A few months ago, Noelle had come in to do some freelance profiling work for Mercer. Noelle normally worked for the FBI. She was supposed to be one of the best when it came to creating criminal profiles.

Mercer had originally used Noelle in an attempt to catch a rogue agent at the EOD. Noelle had created a profile to lead them all to the killer.

But that case is over, so why is Noelle still here?

Rachel was seated between Thomas and Dylan. Mercer and Noelle settled in the chairs across from them. Rachel noticed that Noelle’s hazel gaze darted toward Thomas.

A quick glance showed Rachel that Thomas’s stare was locked right on the profiler.

Interesting. Thomas didn’t make a habit of showing obvious interest in anyone or anything.

“Our security team finished their sweeps.” Mercer’s voice filled the room. He had that kind of voice. Strong. A little too loud. He was obviously used to barking orders. It was only too easy for Rachel to imagine Mercer as a drill sergeant. She’d bet a hundred bucks he had been at one time.

“The guy knows his B and E,” Mercer continued. “No prints, no trace evidence at your place, Rachel.”

She’d expected that.

Mercer’s focus shifted to Dylan. “But it looks as if things got a little more personal for him at your place.”

Wait, what was that supposed to mean?

Then Mercer reached into a small briefcase and pulled out an evidence bag. He pushed a frame across the table at them. “Unless you’re the one who smashed this picture, Agent Foxx?”

Rachel leaned forward to get a better view of the framed image. It was a photo of her and Dylan. It had been taken after their mission in Panama last year. They’d been so happy to get the hostages out of that place alive.

“No.” Dylan’s voice was clipped. “I didn’t smash it.”

“I figured you hadn’t, but I needed to be sure.” Mercer left the frame on the table. A few shards of broken glass remained on top of the photo. “We found it inside your nightstand drawer.”

“That’s where it usually is,” Dylan said. Again, his words were clipped.

Rachel’s gaze jumped to him. He kept a photo of them in his bedroom?

Dylan didn’t look her way, so Rachel glanced toward Mercer and Noelle once more.

Noelle’s gaze was studying her. Rachel didn’t like that particular look from the profiler. It made her feel a little too much like a bug under a microscope.

“I hoped Jack had cut himself on the glass, but…” Mercer exhaled on a long sigh. “No such luck. No doubt he was wearing gloves. The gloves would explain why there were no prints and no blood.”

“We were just minutes behind him,” Thomas said. He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “But he still just disappeared.”

“He’s good at that,” Mercer replied. “Too good.” Then he glanced over at Noelle. “And that’s why we have to make him come out into the open.”

Rachel had known this would be coming. Mercer’s bait plan, no doubt. He’d want to use her—

“Agent Foxx, you’re going to draw Jack out for us.”

“What?” Rachel’s voice rose with her surprise. Dylan wasn’t supposed to be bait. He couldn’t be bait.

But Dylan just nodded and said, “Bring it.”

No, no, this was not happening.

Her hand slammed down on the table. “You all don’t understand—”

“Actually,” Mercer said, cutting through her angry words, “I think I do. And Noelle, here, she’s very good at predicting what killers will do. She understands them particularly well.”