Chapter 9

Dana drovethrough the wet winding streets of her Georgetown neighborhood. They were empty this time of night. The lack of traffic gave her ample time to settle into her feelings.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been scolded like a child.

Dana hadn't expected Jenkins to be so cold. Not to her, not on a case that involved Claire. Dana had always thought Jenkins' affection for Jake extended to her as well. Had she misinterpreted their relationship? Or was this case more involved than Dana had been led to believe?

Thanks to her vast knowledge of occult history and ritualistic artifacts, it wasn't unusual for Dana to be called in to consult on peculiar cases. It's how she'd met Jake and Jenkins. But she'd never been kicked off a case before it even started. Then again, she'd never worked a case without Jake.

Dana hated the unwelcome feeling settling over her. She'd gotten the cold shoulder most of her life, but the cases she'd worked with Jake changed that. Or at least she thought they had.

Her time with the FBI created the ideal notion that she was part of something—a team, a family. Had it all been an illusion? A creation to fill the void of loneliness she'd taught herself not to acknowledge?

Reaching the western edge of her neighborhood, Dana parked on her quiet street and walked the deserted sidewalk to her home. She felt insignificant. Especially against the insurmountable task of finding Claire on her own. Only her stubborn nature allowed her to push back against the thought, chasing self-doubt away.

Instead, Dana listened to her inner voice. You've made it this far on your own. Keep going.

Squaring her shoulders, Dana reminded herself it was her intuition and persistence that solved three of the biggest FBI cases in a decade. She put a drug lord away, stopped a sadistic secret society, unmasked a serial killer, and solved her parents' cold case. She could find Claire.

With renewed confidence, Dana strode up her steps, stopping short when she saw shattered glass. The right sidelight window next to her front door was smashed.

Heart racing, Dana knew she had two choices. Fight or flight.

She made her decision almost instantly as she crept forward, reaching for the door handle. It spun easily.

Claire! Dana's heart soared, hoping her intern had broken the glass in order to find shelter inside. Still, Dana knew she needed to exercise caution as she entered her home.

Again, she heard Jake's voice in her mind. Prepare for the worst. Hope for the best.

She was prepared.

After Fuller and Vega, Dana was done feeling helpless. If anyone came for her again, she vowed to be ready. And she was.

Dana's breath caught as her pulse quickened, but she forced herself to think clearly. Without hesitation, she pulled the small snub nose handgun from her purse and entered her home. She held the gun steady, with both hands, the way Jake had taught her.

She moved slowly, her stance steady, deliberate, as she made her way through the foyer, avoiding the scattered shards of glass covering her Persian rug.

Dana soundlessly covered the black and white tiled hall that led to her kitchen. Steeling her nerves, she pulled in a breath as she braced herself and rounded the corner, weapon drawn. A shadowed mass stepped into the room the same time she did.

"Freeze!" Dana shouted.

The same word was echoed back to her, followed by, "FBI! Lower your weapon!"

Dana blinked in disbelief. Her eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out the unmistakable face she hadn't been expecting.