She knew that tone. She didn’t let it end things. “That’s not the point.”
He met her gaze, and the wall behind his eyes slipped just enough to show what he carried. Not fear. Guilt.
“You think he meant it,” she said softly. “About the girl.”
“He knew things he shouldn’t. The badge override, camera cutouts, our stairwell route. That wasn’t guessing,” Blake said.
Vivian’s gaze slid to the coastline drawing, a single red X scrawled over South Point Dockyard. “Then that’s where we start.”
He nodded, though tension still wired through him. “He also said something else. Before the elevator shut. That he’s been watching us.”
A cool ripple skated across her skin. “How long?”
“Long enough.”
She steadied her breath. “Then he knows we’re not walking away.”
“He’s counting on that.”
Inside, the air smelled of salt and old wood. Blake checked the back rooms, weapon drawn, while she cleared the front. When he returned, she finally breathed out.
“Empty for now,” he said.
The weight of the last day pressed down. “You should rest.”
“So should you.”
She managed a small, humorless laugh. “You first.”
He didn’t move. Just watched her with that focused intensity she used to mistake for indifference. She understood now that it was restraint, not detachment.
She stepped closer. “You think he’s the key?”
“I think he’s playing both sides.”
“Then we play smarter.” Something in his expression shifted—approval, or disbelief that she could still sound steady.
“You should rest,” he murmured.
“I’ll rest when the girl in that video does.”
That stopped him.
Wind scraped against the siding. Blake moved to the window. The cottage was brittle with cold, the kind that settled deep. The stone hearth stayed dark—smoke was too risky.
“Feel that?” he asked.
She tightened the blanket around her shoulders. “What?”
“Another storm coming.”
“Weather or enemy?”
“Both.”
She joined him, shivering. “Then what’s next?”
Blake sat opposite her, shadows hardening the lines of his face. “We wait,” he said. Weariness wearing the shape of resolve. Then, with a crooked grin lacking its usual spark, “Unless you have a better idea. I could use a beautiful woman’s intuition.”
