counter. He acknowledged her with a small nod.
“Call me if you find anything,” he said. “No matter the time. Understand?” Whoever was on the other end of the line must have. Nick ended the call moments later. “NYPD,” he said, motioning to his phone.
“I’m assuming that means no luck on your end.”
Nick shook his head. Lara wasn’t surprised. “No one saw anything,” he said. “Our sniper vanished in the wind.”
Lara ran a hand over her face and winced at the movement. Her shoulder was still tender.
“I’m surprised you didn’t catch him,” Nick said, his eyes at her shoulder. “The way you tore after him.” He went over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer side. Moving a few things around, he pulled an ice pack out. “Can we talk about how you might think to use some caution every now and again, though? Running toward a sniper tends to fall into the dangerous category. Not to mention, careless. You could have been killed.”
He threw her the pack. She caught it with her left hand before placing it against her right shoulder. She couldn’t deny it felt good.
“I think dangerous is a part of our job description,” she said, drily. “Including but not limited to running headlong into the unknown.”
“Except this wasn’t the unknown,” he pointed out. “It was right up to the sniper who’d just picked off two potential leads only a few feet away.”
“So I should have let him get away without a fight?” Lara asked. She dropped her voice, ice finding its way into the resolve behind each syllable. “I couldn’t and wouldn’t let that happen. Whoever this sniper is, he needs to be stopped. He knows something, and he knows who else knows something, too. Little fish to catch a big fish.”
Nick didn’t combat that idea. He went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. After he took a long drink, he gave her a grin. His passive admonishment was over.
For now.
“Scaling a fire escape and using your body as a battering ram... It was impressive.”
Lara didn’t deserve the respect behind his tone. She readjusted the ice pack.
“Impressive but ineffective. If I would have caught him, then that would have been impressive.”
His grin turned into a smirk. “You don’t take compliments well, do you?” He didn’t give her time to answer before his lips turned down. The humor there was gone. “So, what did you find on your end?”
Lara wasn’t a fan of sighing, but frustration pushed the breath between her lips. She felt her body momentarily sag as she answered. “Nothing good.”
“Are there any connections between the victims? Lara Bowman and Elizabeth Grant.” Lara took a seat next to Cass, who had set up at the head of the conference table. Victoria stood between them, her face pinched in concentration. Nick and Xander were on the other side, varying looks of enthusiasm while Mei and Ty finished eating their fast food farther down. Everyone was tired and frustrated. This case was wearing on them.
“No,” she answered. “As far as I can tell the killer is likely doing local online searches for those who fit their criteria—your name—and then stalking and killing those who match up.”
“There has to be some kind of pattern we can uncover,” Mei said around a bite of food. “We need to figure out what connection to Lara might be used next.”
Nick evened his gaze at his partner.
“What’s your middle name?”
“I don’t have one,” she answered honestly.
“You don’t have a middle name?” Ty jumped in, a half smile pulling up his lips. “So you’re like Cher or Madonna.”
“They don’t have last names. I clearly have that,” she corrected, a little too harsh. His smile dropped. She had to remind herself that he was only trying to lighten the mood. She readjusted in her seat. “I guess for the first time in my life, I’m glad I never got that middle initial.”
“Don’t celebrate yet. If someone’s already gone through the trouble to kill those with your name, I doubt they’ll let the lack of middle name stop them,” Xander pointed out.
He was right.
“If it’s really Moretti ordering these hits to toy with you, maybe he’ll target women with names from when you were undercover,” Ty offered. “What was your cover name?”
Lara felt the hesitation behind her response. Saying the name had become an odd sensation. It represented a time in her life where everything had changed. Where she had been thrust into a world of black and white that had quickly turned gray. She moved the ice pack from her arm and set it on the tabletop.
“Eve Johannsen.” For whatever reason, she averted her gaze from Nick as she answered.
“So, what?” Xander cut in. “We’re supposed to warn all the Eves and all the Johannsens in New York City to be careful? To walk in pairs wherever they go?”
Victoria shook her head. “Even if we did decide to go that route, I’m afraid it would only lead to making them unnecessary targets. Plus, not to be that person, but we don’t even know if Moretti is behind these murders. The only connection we’ve found so far has been the MM stamp and—” she looked at Lara “—I don’t need to remind you that his syndicate ran far and wide. It could be someone else entirely pulling the strings.”
Lara didn’t want to, but she had to agree with that. However, if it was Moretti, she knew he’d only be interested in going after her real life.
The real Lara Grant.
“What’s the plan now?” Mei asked.
Lara adjusted the ice pack on her shoulder. She wasn’t sure what to say. They’d hit that proverbial wall again. One that they desperately needed to climb.
“Currently, there’s nothing we can do.” Victoria’s tone was calm, determined. “We’re waiting for the postmortem to be done on our victim, and the NYPD are doing their due diligence, running down Elizabeth’s friends and family. They’ve been told to let us know the second they come up with anything. So, for now—” she glanced at Lara’s shoulder before scanning the rest of the team “—take the night to rest.” Lara’s brows rose as she readied herself to protest. She needed to keep working. To keep moving. “An exhausted agent makes for a useless agent,” Victoria tacked on, an edge clear in her voice. She wasn’t giving them a suggestion. She was giving them a command.
No one protested, and soon the group dispersed. Lara lagged behind, close to her desk. She pictured Elizabeth Grant again. Was it fair that she should be allowed to relax while Elizabeth’s life had been snuffed out that day?
“Hey.” Nick came up beside her, keys twirling around his index finger. “I’m assuming you aren’t liking our latest assignment.”
Lara didn’t smile. “Not particularly.” She grabbed her bag and slipped her jacket on. Her shoulder still bothered her but not as much as taking a temporary hiatus did.
“I didn’t take you for someone who liked the term ‘rest.’” His lips quirked up in the corner. It made the attractive man even more so, but Lara wasn’t in the mood to banter.
“She was in the middle of trying on swimsuits,” Lara said. “Overpowered and strangled in a dressing room while trying on a pink bikini.”
Nick’s smirk turned down. His expression darkened.
“We’ll get them,” he said, voice low. “Whoever they are, whoever is behind this, we’ll get the sons of bitches.”