"Exactly."

"And?" she asked, almost beaming with approval that he had taken off the kid gloves. "What did you decide?"

He dropped all hints of amusement. Wyatt leaned forward, until his hands slid across the table to within a few inches of her own clenched ones, and his reply held absolutely no doubt. "That you're innocent. Not because you're not strong enough to do such a thing, but because you're so strong, you can rise above the base, human urge to."

Their stares locked. Held. In her blue eyes he saw the full breadth of her feelings-fear, worry, gratitude. And something more. A certain warmth, an intimacy that had been building between them for months, that they'd both fought so hard to ignore.

There would be no more ignoring it. Lily's seeking, searching stare promised that.

Unable to do anything else, Wyatt returned the stare, silently affirming it as well.

"Thanks again," she finally said.

"You're welcome again."

After another long stare, Wyatt glanced at the third person in the room, whom they'd almost forgotten. Brandon was watching them both intently. Though his mouth was slightly pulled down at the corners in a frown, he didn't appear angry. Merely a little disappointed. Because he'd seen the truth-that something was happening between Wyatt and Lily. Maybe it hadn't happened yet, but it was only a matter of time. Even Wyatt had begun to acknowledge that, if only in the deepest recesses of his brain.

"Thank you, too, Brandon," she said, finally turning her face toward the other man. "I really appreciate everything you've done."

The young man, sometimes a hothead, sometimes a computer geek, merely nodded. "I just want you to be happy."

"I will be. As soon as I get past this." She addressed Wyatt. "Give me the rest."

"Up until yesterday, nobody else had put these cases together. They were in three different states-the feds hadn't been called in, strictly local police. This was something only Brandon and I were investigating."

"I imagine the badge put an end to that."

"Oh, hell, yeah," Brandon said, having regained his usual cheery energy. "I don't know who you wronged in another life, babe, but the call ended up getting put through to Anspaugh."

She groaned audibly.

"And he is on the warpath, with the full support of the deputy director's office. He's going to use every resource he's got to find out if you survived."

Wyatt watched as Lily put a hand over her eyes and rubbed wearily. He honestly had to wonder whether she knew what she was in for. How ugly this was likely to get before it was over.

"If he finds out I'm alive, Anspaugh will try to crucify me for these murders."

Okay. She knew.

"It's not Anspaugh I'm worried about," Wyatt told her. "He might try to build a case, and he might even take you into custody. The bigger problem is the person behind all of this."

"Ahh." She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down on her bare arms, as if suddenly chilled. "That's what he wants, right? To draw me out? He's got himself convinced I'm still alive, and was using these murders as a way to get the authorities to lead him right to me." Her voice lowered a bit. "To finish the job."

Wyatt shook his head, silently telling her she could trust him to make sure that didn't happen. He was about to open his mouth to say so. Before he could, a ringing interrupted.

"Sorry" Brandon said, tugging his cell phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID screen and frowned. "It's Jackie again. I asked her to update me on what was going on with Anspaugh and his goon squad searching our offices. I wonder if she and the rest of the team have found out about Lily's badge being at the crime scene yet."

"Don't say anything if she hasn't," Wyatt instructed.

Nodding, Brandon answered the call.

As Wyatt watched, Lily sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, as if truly surprised. At first, he figured it was because of the thought of Anspaugh actually investigating her. Then he wondered if it was simply hearing Jackie's name, knowing she was on the other end of that phone call. Of course she knew Jackie Stokes and the others were out there, living their lives, doing their jobs. But there was always that distance. Now her old life was intruding, a voice from the past speaking to a person who sat right beside her.

Brandon appeared to notice her discomfort. He rose, covered the mouthpiece with his hand, and murmured, "I'll take it in the other room."

"Be careful what you say," Wyatt replied, his voice just as low. Jackie might suspect the two of them were together, working on the mystery case she'd confronted him about a couple of days ago. Still, the less she knew, the better. For her sake, for the sake of all the rest of the team, plausible deniability was the way to go.

Lily reached for her half-empty water bottle and brought it to her full lips. Tilting her head back, she drank deeply. Every swallow emphasized the slender lines of her vulnerable neck, the smoothness of her supple skin. Jesus, was she really going to be hit with yet another nightmare by way of a murder investigation? How much did one woman have to endure in a lifetime?

She apparently noticed his sudden worry, because as she lowered the bottle, she said,” I’m fine. I'll get through this, just like I've gotten through everything else." Her voice lowered. "As long as I know I have people I can count on."

"You know you do."

"Okay. So maybe it's best that I just go in, give myself up. Now that I know the unsub's looking for me, that he's killed other people and left evidence that can be used to track him down, there's really not much point in me hiding anymore, is there?"

The very idea stunned him. "There's more reason than ever for you to stay here. You think I'm going to let you go back, watch Anspaugh make a big production out of bringing you in, then leave you exposed and unprotected for a psychopath to target?"

"What do you suggest, that I just stay here? Continue to let other people fight my battles?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Brandon did.

"No, Lily. I don't think you're going to be able to stay here. I don't think you'll even consider it."

Wyatt and Lily jerked their attention toward the doorway, in which Brandon stood. He was tucking his phone into his pocket, staring at Lily's pretty face, his frown deep, his expression troubled.

"What is it?" Wyatt asked, slowly rising.

Lily rose as well.

"It's Jesse Tyrone Boyd," Brandon said, drawing out each syllable of the hated name, which Wyatt immediately recognized. His sympathy rang in his tone and shone in the sadness of his eyes. "His conviction has been overturned and he's been released from prison."

Chapter 10

The last time Lily had been in Washington, D.C., had been on a brutally cold day in January when everything was dead and lifeless, and every resident burrowed inside except when forced out by necessity. Late summer in the nation's capital was an entirely different experience. People were out and about, jogging, pushing baby strollers, playing softball on the lawn at the National Mall. Tourists laden with cameras and shopping bags lined up to board their buses, SUVs jockeyed for the limited parking spaces, pigeons hovered over every park bench, and everything felt entirely, totally alive.

Including her.

She wasn't afraid. Even knowing someone was after her, she felt no fear at being back here on her old turf. D.C. had been home for most of her adult life, and wasn't far from Annapolis, where she had been born and had spent her entire childhood. Despite all the challenges that lay ahead, she felt good here. Connected. Her heart racing, she experienced no sense of foreboding, merely determination. Lily was ready to meet all challenges.