Page 99 of Once a Killer

“Sure,” Mel said, leaning back in her chair. “What’s up?”

Bree swallowed. Licked her lips. Swallowed again. “I was wondering about the possibility of being permanently assigned to Chicago,” she finally got out. “I know Cody Parker is stationed there. I was hoping maybe he could use a partner.”

Mel leaned toward her over the desk. “What the hell took you so long, Bree? I’ve been figuring you and Cody would partner up ever since you and Ford had that Zoom meeting with Dev and me. You going back to Ford?”

“Yeah, I am. If he’ll have me. I don’t want to quit Blackhawk Security. I love working here, but Jameson’s worth quitting for. I could find another job, but I can’t find another Jameson.”

“You tell him all that?” Mel asked, studying Bree as she sat back in her chair.

Bree stared down at her hands. “It’s not the kind of thing I want to say over the phone.” She lifted her head and met Mel’s eyes. “I’m just going back to Chicago. I love my job and I want to stay part of Blackhawk Security, but I’ll understand if having me in Chicago doesn’t work for you.”

“It works for me. I’ll get in touch with Cody and tell him he has a partner now.” She reached into her desk and pulled out a business card. “Here’s his number. Give him a call when you’re ready.” A smile played around her mouth. “You know you never took your week of PTO after that job. Take that paid time off first, then give Cody a call.”

Bree took a deep breath and blew it out. “Thanks, Mel. I appreciate your support.”

“Just glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass.” Mel stood up and came around the desk, then pulled Bree into a hug. “Pack your bags and get going. I’ll drive you to the airport when you’re ready.”

“I’m already packed,” Bree said.

Mel smiled and tapped her computer keyboard. “Let’s see when the next flight leaves for Chicago.”

* * *

Late afternoon of that day, a cab stopped in front of Jameson’s three-flat. The driver pulled her two suitcases from the trunk and set them on the sidewalk, then accepted the cash Bree handed him. As the cab drove away, Bree rolled her two suitcases up to Jameson’s front door, stepped into the tiny lobby and pressed his doorbell. She heard it ring above her, but there was no response.

Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped out of the lobby and dragged her suitcases to the back of the building. Hiked up to the third floor, holding a suitcase in each hand. She parked them off to the side, then sat against the wall next to the back door to wait for Jameson.

It was late summer in Chicago and the sun was still shining when Bree heard the rumble of the Monster coming down the alley. She heard the groan of Jameson’s garage door heaving its way up. Saw the massive SUV slow and turn into the garage.

Bree swallowed. What if he’d gotten over her? Moved on? Put her out of his head?

She rested her head against the wall at her back. Not Jameson. He wouldn’t have forgotten her in a month. Wouldn’t have gotten over her. Just like she hadn’t gotten over him.

She heard his footsteps on the wooden staircase, passing the first-floor apartment. The second-floor apartment. Now he was on his way up to her.

She rubbed her sweaty hands down her thighs and stood up. His footsteps were on the last flight of stairs now. In seconds, he’d be on his tiny porch. He’d see her.

He stepped on the porch, and his gaze found her immediately. He froze for a moment, then turned away and unlocked the back door. Opened it and stepped inside, then closed it again. Her heart shriveled as she heard him engage all three locks, one after another.

She sank back down on the hard boards of the porch. Stared down at her hands. Jameson was angry. Hurt. She didn’t blame him.

She’d done that to him. She’d walked away without giving him a chance to talk to her about her decision. If he had done the same thing to her?

She’d be pissed off, too.

Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in her mouth, she opened one suitcase and pulled out her fleece jacket. Folded it up tightly, then sat on it. She’d stay out here as long as she had to. She’d stay until he’d talk to her.

It had been dark for a long time before a light came on in Jameson’s kitchen. Her heart beat faster, wondering if he would open the door for her. But instead of the door opening, she heard him pouring a cup of coffee from his fancy coffee machine. Then the light went out and she heard the faint sounds of his feet, walking away.

Finally, as the sun rose over the horizon, the light in the kitchen came on again. This time, the locks on the door disengaged, and he opened the inner door. Cracked the screen door and stared out at her. “Why are you still here, Bree?” he asked.

His voice was cool. Guarded. She’d done that to him. Licking her lips, she said, “I was wrong to run away, Jameson. Wrong to deny what we had. So I came back. If you… if you still want me.”

“How long are you planning to stay?” he asked, and she couldn’t read him. The realization made her swallow her tears. She’d always been able to read Jameson.

“I’m in Chicago for good,” she said, speaking too fast.

He stared at her for what seemed like hours. Finally he opened the door wider. Jerked his head at her. She pushed herself off the floor, set her jacket over one of the suitcases, and stepped inside.

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