“It sure doesn’t feel that way.”
“That’s because you’ve let him shake your confidence and get inside your head. You just need to remember that you can succeed, that you’ve done it before. Take those skills you’ve learned and apply them.”
“I’ll try.” She rose and shook his hand. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate the impromptu session.”
“Stop by whenever you like. I’m always here for you. But Lara...” he added just as she turned to go. “Even after you stop him, this won’t be over completely. Not until you take one last step.”
She cocked her head. “Which is?”
“You’ll have to forgive yourself.”
“That might be harder,” she admitted.
And downright impossible if anything happened to the baby.
* * *
Lara was still struggling to follow the psychiatrist’s advice an hour later as she sat at her cubicle, poring over her notes on the Moretti case. She couldn’t let Moretti spook her. She had to have confidence that she could beat him at his game. She’d learned a lot during her time undercover and was so much smarter than before.
But even Dr. Oliviero’s pep talk wasn’t helping her solve this case. She kept combing over the evidence, and nothing made any sense. She felt lost in a labyrinth, unable to find the exit, knowing she was overlooking something vital that would point the way. She finally tossed down her pen, her frustration veering into despair.
What was she missing here? How were these events related, aside from their apparent connection to her? Or was she trying too hard to link them all? Maybe someone else was involved in this case besides Moretti—but if so, who?
Just then, Victoria poked her head over the wall of her cubicle. “Lara,” she said softly so no one would overhear. “I’ve got news.”
Lara’s heart lost its beat. She held her breath, both eager and afraid to hear what she had to say. “What is it?”
Her boss cracked a smile. “The baby and her family are fine.”
Lara slumped back in her chair and released her breath, the tension that had kept her up all night escaping in a crazy rush. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Victoria stepped into her doorway. “It turns out there was some sort of glitch with the phone lines last night, and the service shut down. I just got a new number from the marshal. I’ll forward it to you.”
Lara struggled to take it in. The family was safe. She closed her eyes, more relieved than she could express.
“Still...that note he sent. I know what you’ve done. He must be talking about that family. And remember the photos I got of the safe house? The one with the bull’s-eye on the baby’s face?” Not to mention the charm the kidnapper sent—all indications that someone knew about that child. “And the timing of this—the phone going out at the same time Cass was stabbed. Do you think—”
“That Moretti had someone mess with the lines?”
“Yes.” It would fit his MO perfectly—to draw out the torture, heightening her fear and anxiety to a fever pitch, and then finishing her off with his Grand Finale.
“I wondered the same thing,” Victoria acknowledged. “I’ve got people checking that out.”
“Maybe we should move the family again. If they’ve been compromised...”
“I’d rather not do that until we’re sure.”
“But—”
“Lara, we can’t keep moving them around. The constant upheaval isn’t good for them. They need to start leading a normal life. I want to make sure it’s necessary before we make them leave.”
Lara forced in a calming breath, trying not to imagine the worst. Victoria knew what she was doing. WITSEC would keep that baby safe. She had to focus her energy on stopping Moretti, not worrying about things she couldn’t control.
“Speaking of that note, how’s Cass this morning?” she asked.
Victoria sighed. “You can see for yourself. She’s in her office, writing up her statement about the attack.”
“She’s here?”
“She insisted on coming in.”
“But she just had surgery last night.”
Victoria glanced toward the tech room before answering. “She’s not doing too well. She said she had a rough night.”
Lara didn’t doubt that. Cass had been a wreck at the hospital the previous night. The entire team had kept her company, waiting until the doctor released her, then loading her into Victoria’s car for the trip to the safe house they’d arranged. She’d looked shaken, weak and thoroughly traumatized, despite their attempts to cheer her up.
“She’s supposed to keep her leg elevated. She should be in bed for the next few days.”
“I know, but I couldn’t convince her. She didn’t want to be alone, even with an around-the-clock protective detail. She feels safer here at work.”
Lara understood. It was a classic reaction to a violent attack—jumping at shadows, worrying that an attacker would pounce at any minute and be hiding behind every door. And the effects could last for months.
“Have you heard back from forensics yet?” she asked. “Any clues about who might have stabbed her?”
Victoria shook her head. “I got the initial report. About the only thing of interest is that he was most likely left-handed.”
Lara’s heart missed a beat. “Moretti is left-handed.”
“Moretti’s in prison.”
“Could he have gotten out?”
Victoria’s mouth went flat. “Not a chance.”
“You’re sure? Because—”
“Lara. Calm down. He’s locked up in a federal maximum security penitentiary. There’s no way that he got out.”
“You’re right.” She was overreacting. And that was exactly what Moretti wanted. He wanted to rattle her nerves, ensuring that she wouldn’t think straight—just like Dr. Oliviero said.
She tugged in another breath, determined to follow the psychiatrist’s advice. She could beat this guy. No one was superhuman. Somewhere he’d left a clue that would enable them to bring him down. “But that doesn’t narrow it down much. There are a lot of left-handed people in the world.”
“Maybe Cass will remember something else. Why don’t you talk to her?” Victoria suggested. “I want to keep her busy. The more she can do to help solve this case, the more she’ll start feeling in control again.”
“I will.” But as she headed toward Cass’s office a moment later, her worries returned in a sickening rush. They might be able to defeat Moretti.
But if Cass’s attack was any indication, their time was fast running out.
* * *
Lara found Cass standing at her office window. She took in the weary slump on her slender frame and wondered again why she was here. Instead of working, she should be back at the safe house, coddling herself in bed.
“Knock-knock,” she called out.
Cass turned her way, and Lara was struck by how bad she looked. Her bruised eye was swollen shut. The other was rimmed with red, as if she’d been crying all night. Her hair was lanky and limp, her face ashen and strained. Lara couldn’t imagine how she had the strength to stand.
“I just stopped