Chapter 8

The momentthe wheels touched tarmac Jake was on his feet. He didn't believe in abusing the badge, but he wasn't waiting a second longer to deboard his flight. He discreetly flipped his FBI shield at the flight attendant and was promptly escorted to the exit.

Jake jogged down the gangway, his phone to his ear. "Come on, Dana. Pick up."

With each unanswered ring, he gained speed, as if that would be enough to make up for his neglect.

When Jake left Nevada, he'd planned a much different homecoming. He'd even let himself imagine picking up a bottle of champagne, maybe some flowers. Instead, he was racing against the clock, hoping he wasn't too late. Again.

He'd made it all the way to the airport without listening to his voicemails. He didn't want anything to change his mind. Not work, not Dana's insistence on getting the timing right. He was going home to her, and he planned on telling her he wanted to be with her, come hell or high water.

But the damn notifications on his phone kept taunting him.

Once he boarded and found his seat, he caved. Skipping over the message from Jenkins, Jake listened to the voicemails from Dana first.

He was grateful he was in the air by the time he got around to her most recent one. Hearing about the incident at Claire's rehab clinic made him want to jump from the plane to get home faster.

Trying to remain rational, Jake swiped his credit card so he could access the plane's Wi-Fi. He checked the D.C. news first, but the reporter's words couldn't penetrate the loop in his mind. He kept hearing Dana's terrified voice over and over. "Claire's missing, Jake. If something's happened to her … I know you'd be here if you could. Jake, I-I …" She paused. "Just call me, okay? Please."

The fear in her voice tore Jake in two. He should've been there for Dana. For Claire, too. Christ! If anything happened to them while he was away, he'd never forgive himself.

Jake managed to focus long enough to listen to Jenkins' voicemail. He replied to both Dana and Jenkins via text but got no response. The little checkmark next to each sent text assured him the messages were going through, but it did nothing to calm Jake's nerves.

He'd hoped to get answers once he was on the ground but both Jenkins' and Dana's calls went to voicemail.

Anger and fear reached a boiling point as Jake peeled out of the airport parking garage. Instinct and training allowed him to navigate the slick D.C. roads at breakneck speeds.

He tried Jenkins again. This time she answered. "Shep, I can't talk right now. Like I told Dana, I'll call if I have any new information regarding Claire."

"You spoke to Dana? Where is she?"

"I sent her home. Are you back in D.C.?"

"Just landed. What do you mean you sent her home? Where was she?"

"Glad you're back, Shep. You should check on Dana. She'll fill you in. I told her to wait at home in case Claire shows up there, but she had that look in her eyes."

Jake knew it well. Dana was headstrong and had a history of doing whatever she thought was necessary to get answers, especially if it involved someone she loved. It was something Jake adored about the woman. But it also drove him crazy. "I'm headed to her place right now."

"Good. And Shep, a word of advice, stay away from this case."

"Jenks, you know I can't do that if it involves Claire."

"You'd better hope it doesn't."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I'd say more if I could, but this is turning into a National Security nightmare. I've gotta go."

Jake swore under his breath. If this was a National Security case, Jenkins was right, Jake didn't want to be anywhere near it. The National Security Council would be involved, and that meant the White House and the unyielding force that came with it.

Even more desperate to get to Dana before she entangled herself in something beyond even her brilliant means, Jake accelerated onto the George Mason Memorial Bridge.

In reality, it took less than ten minutes to reach Dana's door, but to Jake, the drive seemed to take an eternity. He slammed the SUV in park and raced up her front steps, his chest tightening as he banged on her front door.

"Dana!"

Jake's heart pounded as hard as his fists, but there was no answer. The silence left his mind free to run away with sinister scenarios.

Was Dana inside and injured, or worse?

Or had she rushed off to do something heroic and dangerous to find Claire?

Jake was just pulling out his phone to call Dana again when he saw a beam of light flash through Dana's curtains. Slipping the phone back into his pocket he pressed himself against the stone column of the brownstone's porch and waited. Once again, the light beam flickered to life, this time it stayed on, bobbing through the house casting a wake of shadows in the unmistakable arc of a flashlight.

Someone was inside.

Someone who wasn't Dana.