“What is it?”
“Van Blackman.” He bolted from the table and the man spun on his heels to dart out the door.
He heard Harper give chase as well. “Blackman, stop!”
“Federal agent,” Harper called. “Stop now!”
Blackman kept going. Riley pounded after him. What was he doing at the hospital? Had he come to do something to Asher? To finish him off? Fury nearly blinded him and threatened to steal his common sense and self-control. Riley didn’t slow, but Blackman was fast. Van pushed past people in the hospital, grabbed one man and shoved him in front of Riley. Riley caught the elderly man on a stumble. “Sorry, sir. Are you all right?”
“I think so.”
Riley made sure the gentleman had his balance, losing precious seconds of the chase while Blackman lunged out of the hospital exit.
Harper raced past him. Riley fell in behind her and together they dashed out into the hot Colorado sun and ran down the sidewalk. He rounded the corner just in time to see Van jump into a car and speed off.
“No!” Riley skidded to a stop and tried to see the license plate, but Blackman was already turning the corner. “No,” he rasped as he caught his breath.
Harper had run farther than he, only now she was walking back toward him, speaking into her phone. “...green Ford. Four doors, older model. Heading south on Platte Street. Right.” She stopped in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“Just mad he got away again. I can’t believe he showed up here. He’s following me. He’s doing his best to push my buttons.” He drew in a deep breath. “I refuse to let him do that.”
“Good. Let’s get Blackman’s picture to hospital security and ask them to keep an eye out for him. Especially when you’re in the building.”
“That’s a good idea.” Riley clenched his fingers into fists. “He waited until I saw him. Stood there and simply waited for me to look up. He wanted me to know he was there, watching.”
“He’s definitely taunting you if that’s the case.”
“It’s the case.” Riley rubbed a hand over his face and pictured him catching Van and pummeling him into oblivion. No, death would be too easy for the man. He wanted him in prison for the rest of his life where Riley would make sure he constantly reminded the man why he was there. He planned to make prison worse than death for Blackman.
An uncomfortable niggle at his conscience reminded him that it wasn’t his place to extract revenge for his sister’s murder. It was just his job to bring the man in.
Right. He had a feeling he was going to have to keep telling himself that over and over before he had Blackman in custody.
* * *
Harper sat on the bed in her hotel room back in Drum Creek and opened the laptop she was never without. She’d shed her gear and flexed her shoulders. The vest weighed quite a bit, but she refused to go without it when on duty. And right now, she wondered if she should even take it off at all.
Jake Morrow was an outlier. She had no idea what he might or might not do. If he would shoot at a man who’d clearly identified himself as trying to help him, he might decide he didn’t want her—or the team’s—help, either.
Her ankle knife and service weapon lay on top of the vest within easy reach should she need them.
Star lounged at the foot of the bed, her head on her paws, eyes following Harper’s every move. Harper scratched her faithful partner’s ears then logged in to the secure software that she had access to. She pulled up the profile of the man she’d been looking for. His blue eyes stared back at her and she desperately searched her memory for even just one good thing to remember about him. But the mental search turned up nothing. As it did every time.
She sighed and shut the laptop. Her father was gone from her life. He’d chosen to leave when she was four. Not only leave, but he’d apparently never looked back. So why did she care about where he was, what he was doing—and if he had other children? She’d made something of her life without his help and was proud of that fact.
Still, when she was honest with herself, she would admit the rejection hurt. And that made it hard to picture herself married with children. And while she was being honest, she would also admit it was what she wanted. A husband to love and who loved her. A house full of children and a couple of dogs.
She had Star, of course, and loved the animal, but she wanted a puppy, maybe even several puppies. She smiled at the image then frowned. There was no need to go down that emotional road. It was a dream that had very little chance of coming true. After all, where would she find someone who understood her profession? And not only understood it, but would be willing to put up with it?
Riley’s face came to the forefront of her mind and she grimaced. She didn’t need to think about Riley. Because if she did, she’d have to admit to the attraction she knew was there. Okay, she could admit it.
But the timing was all wrong. Pursuing a romance at this moment was not an option. Her goal, first and foremost, was to find Jake Morrow.
Unfortunately, her mind wanted to investigate the attraction she’d just acknowledged.
Fine. She leaned back and closed her eyes, picturing the bounty hunter with the chocolate-colored eyes that could draw her in and make her want to stay.
Riley Martelli. How would she describe him?
He was a fighter, a survivor. She liked that about him. After all he’d been through with his nephew in the hospital and needing surgery, and his sister killed by a stalker, he pushed through his grief. Or allowed the grief to push him?
Maybe.
He was good-looking in a rugged sort of way, intelligent, loyal, compassionate. And loved fiercely and fully. And he’d lost greatly.
Compared to him, she didn’t think she’d had it quite so bad. Her father may have left her, but at least he was still alive somewhere. God, I’m struggling. Struggling with You, and with this case. I need Your help, and I almost don’t even want to ask for it because part of me is simply afraid You’re not listening. But she knew better than that. God was there. He was real and He cared about what she was going through. She had to believe that no matter what.
She sighed and let her mind jump to Jake Morrow.
She’d never liked him all that much even though she’d admired his skills as an agent. He’d definitely been one of the best agents she’d worked with. But as a person, a man? Not so much.
One of her earlier encounters popped to the forefront of her mind. He’d pressed her to go out with him and when she’d refused, he’d continued to push until she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested. He’d laughed and backed off, hands held as though she were aiming a weapon at him. “Chill, Harper. Man, you’re uptight, aren’t you? Loosen up and live a little.” His words had been light, but the look in his eye had stayed with her and she’d slept with her gun nearby for several weeks after that incident. But he’d left her alone, seemed to forget all about it, and they’d worked well together in spite of the incident.
She sent a group text to the team. Have any of you guys heard from Zara? I think Dylan’s missing her. He said something about going through withdrawals earlier today.
Nope.
Nada.
Negative.
Each response made her frown, but Zara was in training at Quantico. The rigorous schedule didn’t leave much room for anything else.
But surely she could send a text to her fiancé.
Harper sent the woman a text of her own. Call Dylan. He misses you.
Her eyes grew heavy and she drifted.
Until she heard something at her door. The knob jiggled. Her adrenaline