Right now, he looked exhausted. “Sit,” he said.
Claire remained standing. “Sir, I just received?—”
“I know.” He turned his computer screen toward her. The exact text she’d received, along with metadata that made her stomach drop. “He accessed our internal network. Again. Third breach in forty-eight hours.”
“Then we need to find out how?—”
“You’re off the case.”
The words hit like a physical blow. She stammered, snapped her mouth shut, and tried again. “Sir, I?—”
“Effective immediately.” Reeves stood, came around his desk. “You’re compromised, Claire. This isn’t a discussion.”
“But I’m the best person to work this case.” She fought to keep her voice level. “I know his pattern better than anyone. I’ve studied these victims for weeks.”
“You’re not studying victims anymore. Youarethe victim.” His voice was gentle but firm. “And victims don’t work their own cases.”
The hell I’m a victim. “I’m an FBI agent.”
“Being stalked by a serial killer.” Reeves pulled up another file, this one of security footage. A man’s silhouette stood outside her apartment building. Timestamp:Wednesday, 6:43 PM. “He was at your building. We have multiple sightings in the past week.”
Claire stared at the screen. She’d felt watched. Dismissed it as paranoia.
“There’s more.” Reeves showed her another photo. A package, addressed to her, that had been intercepted at the FBI mailroom screening. Inside was a bracelet. Silver, delicate.
Exactly like the one Lily had worn. The one that was buried with her.
“How did he?—”
“We don’t know. But he seems to know things about you, Claire. Personal things. Things from before you were an agent.” Reeves met her eyes. “This isn’t random. Our team believes he’s been planning this for a long time.”
The team? Had her unit been talking to him behind her back?
She wanted to argue. Wanted to insist she could handle it, that she’d trained for this, that running wouldn’t solve anything. But the bracelet sat in that evidence bag like an accusation.
Her voice came out a touch too shaky. “What’s the…plan?”
“We’re sending you to a secure location in Montana. Private security contractor with former Special Forces experience. You’ll be protected while we work the case.”
“Montana?” The word came out sharp, harsh. “You’re sending me across the country to hide in a safe house while everyone else hunts him?”
“He’s here, in D.C. You need to be somewhere he can’t reach.”
“A safe house here makes sense. Montana is exile.”
“Montana is remote, defensible, and off any radar he might have access to.” Reeves’s voice hardened slightly. “Thispredatorhas breached FBI security three times.” The media had dubbed him the Countdown Killer. While no one on her team was allowed to refer to him that way, she knew they all did in their minds, even Reeves. “He knows where you live, where you work. Your running route, your coffee shop, your dry cleaner.”
Claire’s jaw clenched. “So we’re giving him what he wants—me off the case.”
“We’re keeping you alive long enough to catch him.”
“I should behere.” Her voice cracked despite her best efforts. “Working this.”
“You’re too close.” Reeves softened slightly. “I know why you do this work, Claire. I know about Lily Harper.”
Claire’s stomach dropped. “That’s in my sealed psych eval.”
“I’m your SAC, and it’s hardly top secret information. It was all over the news back then.” He paused. “I’ve seen it before. You became an agent to catch men like the one who killed your best friend. You’ve done good work. Important work. But right now, your job is to stay alive.”
