And yes, it had helped her cope with the myriad of emotions that she experienced this weekend.
There was no denying that Graham would have preferred to be the harness that kept her tethered to the present, but she had a hard time explaining to him that it was vital for her to keep him separate from her past. She had no idea if they had a future together. If they stood a chance, she needed him to be free and clear of the evil that had encompassed her childhood.
“The ring helped more than you know,” Brook murmured as she glanced down at her right hand.
The tips of his black leather shoes stepped forward until there was less than an inch between them. She should have taken a step back. Neither one of them had revealed to the team that they had been spending time together outside of work, although since Theo rented a condo in her building, he’d suspected that Graham’s recent visits had nothing to do with work. Not that Graham had anything to do with the day-to-day operations of the firm, anyway. While he did have an office next to hers, he only ever used it a handful of times in the past two months.
“Then nothing else matters,” Graham said softly before he pressed his warm lips to her forehead. It was as if time stood still. He did that for her, and that meant he was quickly becoming her vulnerability...one that Jacob could and would somehow be able to exploit. She wanted to believe that she was past her childhood trauma, but that would be similar to believing in unicorns at this point. “Tonight?”
“Twenty-one hundred hours.” Brook finally took that step back, glancing toward the interior window of her office. No one was within view, and she was able to release some of the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’ll be downstairs waiting.”
Graham studied her for a brief moment. He then gave a single nod before proceeding to the door. He held the handle longer than necessary, as if he wanted to say something more, but he clearly changed his mind. She monitored his progress through the waiting area and out through the main entrance.
Wanting time to compose herself, she retreated to her desk. Pulling out her tablet and phone from her leather bag, she set them down on her desk. She hadn’t been able to perform her morning routine of enjoying her caramel macchiato while watching the early morning news before anyone else showed up to the office. Having a regimen gave her balance, and she was sorely in need of that today.
As she placed her leather bag on the floor, she came to realize that she’d wanted Graham to be furious over her decision to have the funeral without anyone present. Anger meant distance, and she hadn’t had any distance from those people surrounding her in over a year. It had been overwhelming, and a part of her was drowning in a life that wasn’t meant to be hers quite yet.
Brook shook her head to dispel such depressing thoughts.
Her therapist would have a field day at their next session.
“Brook?” Kate Lin had come to a stop just inside the doorway of Brook’s office. “Everyone is ready in the conference room. The carafe is full of fresh coffee, and I’ve already created a new file on the case.”
Kate Lin was in her early twenties, and she was currently waiting to hear if her application to the FBI academy had been accepted for the ten-week course at Quantico. Brook had known that S&E Investigations had simply been a steppingstone for the young woman. What Brook hadn’t realized was that Kate would apply so quickly after turning the appropriate age.
“Thanks, Kate. Please tell the others that I’ll be there shortly.”
She sensed that Kate wanted to say something else, but the young woman finally left the doorway.
Brook should have immediately grabbed her things and headed toward the conference room. The team was scheduled to go over the surface details of the case to familiarize themselves with the details before dividing up the material that they would spend the next few days combing over to get a feel for the unsub they would be hunting in the coming weeks.
Taking a seat at her desk, Brook turned so that she was facing her space heater. The numbing cold that was usually deep in her bones had returned, and she merely needed a moment to compose herself. Once a sense of normalcy washed over her, she used the heels of her black high heels to turn the chair back around to collect her tablet and phone.
Her office was large enough to have a fifty-five-inch television mounted in the corner. There was even a sitting area that contained a black leather couch against the far wall, two matching chairs, and a glass coffee table on top of a black and white area rug.
A unique oil painting of Washington D.C. had been centered above the couch. The local artist had even given the canvas a title—Polar Opposites. The depiction was of various city buildings on the top half, whereas the bottom illustrated the structures as being upside down in a rather haunting manner. The art had instantly caught her attention, and she certainly hadn’t needed her therapist to explain the reason behind her purchase.
As Brook slowly walked around her desk, she finally registered the reason that she’d been off her game since her father’s passing—Jacob hadn’t reached out to her.
Her brother hadn’t sent anything in the mail, and he hadn’t left her a gift to signify that he’d been in the area.
Granted, hewassomewhere on the West Coast searching for Sarah Evanston. The woman had been the only victim of his to escape death. She might be in witness protection, but her brother was beyond resourceful. He would do anything and everything in his power to hunt her down and finish what he started.
Still, there hadn’t been a significant moment in Brook’s life when her brother hadn’t marked it in some poignant manner.
Even she recognized the sick and twisted relationship between them, but her brother’s absence over the course of the past two weeks was very telling. She had no doubt that he was aware of their father’s passing, which could only mean one thing.
This was the terrifying silence before the storm.
Chapter Five
Brooklyn Sloane
February 2023
Monday — 3:53pm
Therewasnoquestionfrom the uncomfortable silence in the conference room that Bit had informed the team about the change in plans come Friday afternoon. They had all been prepared to fly into Peoria International Airport for her father’s funeral, spend two nights at a hotel, and then return to D.C. on Sunday. Truthfully, they should all be relieved that they hadn’t been forced to sit through the melancholy of such an uncomfortable service for someone who they had never met.