Chapter Fifteen

Brook slid the door open so she could enter the lake house. She had spent the past half hour on the deck while speaking with Special Agent Tirelli. Given that their suspect list had multiplied over the past couple of days, it was imperative to have his assistance to help weed through the red tape. She understood that he had been eager to hand off the investigation at the start, but now that they were aware Mary Jane Reynolds was in fact the target of their unsub, the narrative had changed drastically.

The western sky was already gathering clouds, but the approaching storm wouldn't reach Crestlake until later this evening. The accompanying winds had gotten a head start, bringing with them a hint of humidity.

Brook secured the sliding glass door behind her before closing the distance to the counter. She set her empty mug in the sink, not bothering with a refill. She planned on spending some time at the coffee shop in town, anyway.

Brook made her way into the living room to find Bit on the phone with Zoey. The two were setting a date as to when Bit would meet Zoey's parents. The upcoming introduction had been the topic of an ongoing discussion that he had continued to put off. From the sound of his side of the conversation, he had accepted his fate.

"Gotta go," Bit muttered when he caught sight of Brook. He set his phone on the table. "Boss, we've confirmed the clinic's filing cabinets were rifled through, but since the doctor's office where Duncan Reynolds is employed is paperless and has everything stored online, the unsub wasn't able to access any information."

"You didn't have to cut your call short." Brook picked up her leather bag that had been next to the couch. She would take her tablet to work on while sitting across the street from the boutique. Since the rain wasn't supposed to move in until later this evening, the coffee shop should still have its outdoor seating available. "I'm driving into town. I want to observe Mary Jane Reynolds' surroundings. The unsub has been forced to switch locations to observe her."

"We have an agent inside the store with her, don't we?"

"We do," Brook confirmed as she made sure she tucked her charging cord into a side pocket. "Which is why I want to monitor the surrounding area. A table outside the café will provide me with a discreet vantage point. Assuming that the unsub has watched Mary Four's online videos, he would have noticed her scar. He no longer has to search for his target. He's found her. The question remains if he is willing to sacrifice himself to carry out his mission."

"You mean, there is a chance that the unsub will go kamikaze?"

Leave it to Bit to sum up the potential scenario in such a straightforward manner.

"The profile suggests that the unsub will attempt to achieve his goal in such a way that he can go back to his life while having a sense of accomplishment." Brook flipped the front of her leather bag over so that she could fasten the snap. "That will change with each passing day. His reason for making sure the donor's heart stops beating will become more pressing, and he will feel as if he is suffocating. Such an awareness will have him compelled to take action."

"And figuring out the unsub's reason will lead us to his identity."

"Exactly," Brook said as she hooked the leather strap over her shoulder. She had left her purse and keys over on the entryway table near the front door, but she didn't move from her position. She wasn't one to give advice, but there were times when she made exceptions. Now was one of those times. "Bit, Zoey's parents will love you. Do you know why?"

"Not a clue," Bit muttered as he sat back in his chair. His right knee started to jostle almost immediately. "You all say that because you know me. They don't, and all they're going to see is some computer geek with a long nose, pale skin, and greasy hair."

"If you thought any of that mattered, you would change your daily routine to include time in the sun. You would dress differently, and you would also cut your hair. You don't, because you are comfortable in your own skin." Brook hesitated, but she decided to forge ahead with a comparison so that Bit understood the significance of his choices. "I might have changed my name when I turned eighteen years of age, but I accepted long ago that I will always be known as the sister of a serial killer. It is okay to be who we are, Bit."

The fact that Bit's upper body stopped moving in time with his leg meant that he had stilled his movements to hear her out. His gaze was downcast, but she definitely had his full attention.

"This team? We love you for being the man who went to extreme lengths to ensure his sister was taken care of during her cancer treatments. The man who spent every waking second with his best friend when she was in the hospital. We respect you for your loyalty, and we admire your dedication to those in your life. All Zoey's parents want is for their daughter to be happy, and you have succeeded in that department. Be yourself, Bit. Doing so will give them the ability to see you the way Zoey sees you."

Bit finally met Brook's gaze. His smile widened, and she realized she might have gone overboard in her so-called motivational speech. With a slight roll of her eyes, she walked toward the entryway table.

"You're on your own for lunch." Brook made a mental note to leave the pep talks to Arden, Sylvie, or Theo. "I'll bring dinner back, though."

"I'll let you know if anything pops on the Ann Arbor interviews." Bit rolled closer to the table, though his smile was still in place. "Sylvie is taking the family angle, while Theo will speak with the hospital staff. By the way, Jacob is still in solitary. There are fewer cases of influenza, so it seems as if the worst has passed."

Brook slid the strap of her purse over the leather one of her tote bag before picking up the keys to the rental car. Theo and Sylvie had taken the SUV to Ann Arbor. Should Bit need to go anywhere, he had the tech van, though he would probably walk to the bar and grill for lunch. A niggling thought about the pier had her turning back before reaching for the doorknob.

"Have you checked the camera setup out back? Anyone of interest?"

"None who stood out, but I'm using a software program to compare the other patrons every time Mary Four eats dinner over there. No one fits the profile so far, but the application is logged for recognition sweeps."

"Sounds good," Brook said as she finally opened the door. "I'll bring us back dinner from town. Maybe Italian."

"Extra garlic bread," Bit called out before Brook stepped out and closed the door behind her.

The rising humidity wasn't too bad, and the light blazer she wore was perfect to sit outside at a café table in town. She scanned the quiet street, taking note of any subtle differences in her surroundings. As she pressed the button on the key fob, the chirp of her phone sounded from the side pocket of her purse. The lock disengaged with a soft click, and she pulled open the driver"s side door, leaning in to deposit her purse and leather bag onto the passenger seat.

Brook retrieved her phone, answering the call as she stood and closed the car door. She kept ahold of the keys as she turned around and began to walk down the small driveway.

"Morning," Brook greeted softly as her lips curved in a small smile.

"Are you any closer to closing the case?" Graham asked with a tone she had come to recognize very well. "I would truly like a repeat of what transpired after dinner last Wednesday night."

"Let's just say we're getting close," Brook replied with a light laugh as she stepped onto the street. He truly was good for her damaged soul. "Mind if I call you back this evening to discuss those details in private?"

"I'll be waiting. Be safe, Brooklyn."

She lowered the phone, knowing that he would be the one to disconnect. Switching the device into her left hand, she casually unfastened the button on her blazer so she could access her weapon if needed.

Brook had noticed the dark green Honda parked across the street the moment that she had stepped out of the house. Considering that the team had delved into Adam Bouras' background as thoroughly as possible, she had also known he was the one sitting behind the steering wheel. By the time she was mere steps away, Adam had opened the driver's side door and stepped out of his car.

"Mr. Bouras," Brook said in a relatively flat tone devoid of any emotion. "What can I do for you this morning?"