Page 27 of Pursuit of Her

Eve stared at her badge, gleaming in the dim light of her apartment. For her entire career, it had represented her commitment to a system of justice she believed in despite its imperfections. Now that system stood revealed as corrupted at its highest levels, its mechanisms manipulated to protect predators rather than victims.

She reached for the badge, weighing its familiar heft in her palm. Then, with deliberate movements, she opened her desk drawer and placed it inside, along with her service weapon. Symbolic actions, perhaps, but meaningful to her nonetheless. Tomorrow she wouldn't be operating as Captain Morgan of the Phoenix Ridge Police Department. She would be Eve Morgan, a woman seeking truth and justice beyond the boundaries of a compromised system.

A woman searching for the partner she had loved and lost and found again in the most impossible circumstances.

Eve returned to the evidence wall, methodically documenting everything she'd discovered, preparing for tomorrow's confrontation with whatever final revelations the safety deposit box might contain. Outside, the secondary storm front arrived, rain recommencing its assault on her windows with renewed determination.

Inside, a different storm had broken—one that had been building for a decade, its pressure finally released by the truth Reagan had returned to expose. Eve felt strangely calm within its center, her path forward clarifying with each piece of evidence she connected.

She would find Sophia Gresham. She would access the safety deposit box. She would locate Reagan before she executed Arthur Pembroke.

And when they stood face to face again, Eve would offer something beyond arrest or opposition: partnership in exposing the corruption that had separated them ten years ago. A chance to deliver justice through truth rather than vengeance. An alternative to the path of blood Reagan had chosen in isolation and darkness.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the photograph of Reagan on Eve's evidence wall. In that brief, electric moment, Eve made her final decision, consciously stepping beyond the boundaries of the system she had served and into the shadows where Reagan had been fighting alone for a decade.

Tomorrow, she would find the woman she had never stopped loving.

And together, they would burn the Phoenix Network to the ground.

6

REAGAN

Reagan watched Eve's apartment building through specialized binoculars, her breath even despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Rain slashed against the windshield of her nondescript sedan, providing a rhythmic backdrop to her thoughts. She'd parked three blocks away, close enough to monitor but far enough to avoid detection—exactly as she'd taught Eve years ago during their surveillance training.

The unmarked police vehicle watching Eve's building had been there for six hours now. Detective Andrea Martinez wasn't even trying to be subtle, which meant Commissioner Brooks was growing desperate. They knew Eve was getting close.

Reagan lowered the binoculars, the familiar ache in her chest intensifying. Their confrontation at the abandoned factory two nights ago had changed everything. After ten years of careful distance, of protecting Eve through absence, she'd stood face to face with her again—close enough to touch, to almost kiss.

Close enough to feel the decade between them collapse into nothing.

"Damn it," Reagan whispered, watching her breath form a fleeting cloud in the night air. She hadn't planned for this complication. Her mission had been clear: eliminate the members of the Phoenix Network one by one, expose their crimes, and deliver the justice the system had denied their victims.

Eve wasn't supposed to get involved. She wasn't supposed to recognize the vigilante's identity. She certainly wasn't supposed to look at Reagan with clear green eyes that still held echoes of what they'd once been to each other.

Reagan checked the secure phone that connected her to her underground network. Three messages awaited her:

E accessed archives today. B watching closely. – S

Key location compromised. – M

Pembroke moved timeline. Tomorrow night. Terminal. – L

Reagan's pulse quickened at the last message. Arthur Pembroke had moved his schedule, which meant her carefully planned timetable was collapsing. His pancreatic cancer had reached stage four, giving him weeks rather than months. If she missed this window, he might die before facing justice for what he'd done to those women.

But the more pressing concern was Eve. If she'd accessed the archives and Brooks was watching closely, it meant Eve was actively investigating the network Reagan had spent a decade mapping. The key location being compromised meant Eve had found the safety deposit box key at the Harbor Point cabin—exactly as Reagan had directed her to during their confrontation.

Eve was following the breadcrumbs. She was assembling the truth Reagan had “died” to protect ten years ago.

Which meant she was now in immediate danger.

The rain intensified, drops hammering against the car with increased urgency. Through the distorted glass, Reagan watched a figure emerge from Eve's building: tall, purposeful strides, collar turned up against the downpour. Even at this distance, Reagan would recognize that silhouette anywhere.

Eve was heading out despite the late hour and the surveillance.

Reagan started the engine, her decision crystallizing with cold clarity. The mission parameters had changed. Pembroke could wait another day. Right now, Eve needed protection more than the world needed another abuser brought to justice.

If Commissioner Brooks was having Eve watched this openly, it meant they were preparing to move against her. They wouldn't risk another murder like they'd attempted with Reagan—too many questions when a captain disappeared—but they had other methods.

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