“That bastard deserved everything that came his way, Ramirez.” Dark clothing hid mountains of muscles and determination Ana had already gone up against once. And lost. A high widow’s peak reflected the light coming from the bare bulb above off Ericson’s shorn head. They’d worked side by side, taking down the monsters after witnessing exactly what they were capable of, for years. She’d trusted him to have her back, and she’d had his. But after the Samantha Perry case, he’d gone dark. Left the FBI, wouldn’t answer her calls, moved out of his apartment. Now she was the only thing standing between him and his determination to get away with murder. He tossed the mask to the floor near the drain, keeping his hands free for his next move. “You weren’t there. You didn’t have to see what he’d done to her. You were thirty miles away with that local contractor while I was left to clean up Harold Wood’s mess.” He took a single step forward, shortening the distance between them and the space she’d have to defend herself and Owen. Ericson’s voice dropped into dangerous territory. “So yeah, I did whatever it took to hunt him down. I kept tabs on his sister in case he reached out for help. I sat on his apartment for months at a time. I busted anyone he’d go to for a fake ID because I knew he wasn’t finished. You want to know how I finally found him, Ramirez? What he did to get himself caught?”
He took another step toward her, and her breath shuddered in her chest. The closet he’d held them in suddenly seemed so much smaller than it had a few minutes ago.
“The sick SOB had the nerve to go after Claire,” he said. “He couldn’t stop himself. Didn’t matter how many agents and law enforcement organizations were out there looking for him. Harold Wood saw something he wanted, and he tried to take it. Only this time I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.” The scent of new car smell filled her lungs in the small space, exactly as she remembered from the safe house. He’d shoved her through a window, tried to kill Benning and his family. Had taken Owen and left him for days at a time to freeze and starve to death. This wasn’t the agent she’d worked beside. The Ericson York she remembered wouldn’t have gone after innocent children to solve a case. “You promised the Perry family we would find their daughter. Do you remember that? You let them down. You let the entire Bureau down. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you as guilty as Harold Wood ever was.”
“We would’ve found him, Ericson. We were closing in, but instead you took the law into your own hands and murdered someone.” She shook her head. “If anyone is as guilty as Harold Wood, it’s not me. It’s you. We swore to protect the innocent, but what you’re doing—”
“That oath is nothing!” His exaggerated breath rose and collapsed his shoulders, and she turned to hug Owen closer. A crazed mania bled into the brown of his eyes for a few seconds before he seemed to get control over himself. “I spent over a decade with the FBI hunting the scum who get off on hurting people, only to watch them walk free on technicalities and plea deals.” He rolled back his shoulders. “They deserve better than that, Ramirez. Samantha Perry deserved better than that, and I’m finally doing something about it.”
The muscles down her spine hardened. She’d seen this side to her former partner before, the caged obsession he hadn’t been able to keep locked away during interrogations and investigations, equal to the all-consuming fixation to destroy the criminals they brought to justice. Only, back then, she’d taken advantage of all that intensity, used it to break suspects, to get the confessions they needed, and do their jobs to protect the victims of the cases they took on. She’d never been the target, and now, she and the six-year-old boy behind her would be the ones standing in his way. But there was still a chance they could all get out of here alive.
“You’re right. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t focused on the investigation and an innocent girl paid the price because of it, and I’m going to have to live with that the rest of my life.” The hollowness in her chest throbbed. Ana shifted her weight between both feet but nothing could relieve the pressure. Because the truth was she and Ericson weren’t so different. That case had changed them both for the worse, taken away any semblance of good in their lives, but she’d found her way back. To Benning. If he hadn’t requested her to work this case, would she be the one standing on that side of the room in a few years? Less? Would she be the one hunting down the murderers who hadn’t answered for their sins? “I’ve spent the past seven years punishing myself day in and day out by cutting myself off from the things and the people who made me happy because of that case. I overcommitted myself to the job thinking I could make up for my mistake, but there’s nothing that will ever bring Samantha Perry back. No matter how many lives we save, Ericson, it’s never going to be enough.” Her mouth dried as her own words released the vise she’d carried all this time from around her heart. “Believe me, ignoring the grief and the anger
