Page 28 of Pursuit of Her

Evidence planted. Cases sabotaged. Careers destroyed.

Reagan pulled into traffic, maintaining a careful distance behind Eve's vehicle. The storm provided the perfect cover, reducing visibility and keeping her tail lights blurred among countless others. She'd allow herself this deviation from the plan. Just for tonight.

She needed to know what Eve had discovered. Needed to ensure Eve remained safe while she uncovered the truth. Needed to warn her about what would come next.

And beneath those tactical justifications lurked the truth Reagan couldn't fully suppress: she needed to see Eve again. To finish what had nearly happened in that abandoned factory. To bridge the chasm ten years of absence had carved between them.

Even if only for a moment before the mission reclaimed her.

The decision was tactically unsound, emotionally reckless, and not to mention potentially catastrophic for her carefully constructed operation.

But as Reagan followed Eve's car toward downtown Phoenix Ridge, she knew she'd already made her choice. She was going to break into Captain Eve Morgan's apartment tonight and access whatever evidence she'd gathered.

Even if it meant risking everything she'd sacrificed to protect.

Reagan had followed Eve's unmarked department vehicle to Phoenix Ridge National Bank, watching from a careful distance as Eve entered and exited fifteen minutes later, a small envelope tucked inside her jacket. Eve was gathering evidence, following Reagan's breadcrumbs to the safety deposit box.

After tailing Eve back to her apartment building in the Bay View Towers on the north side of the harbor, Reagan had waited, observing as Martinez's surveillance vehicle remained stubbornly in place. Only when Eve's lights had finally gone out—and remained out for precisely forty-three minutes—did Reagan make her move.

She scaled the service ladder on the eastern side of the Bay View complex. The rain had eased to a gentle mist, cool droplets clinging to her skin as she ascended past the twenty-second floor. Wind gusted between the buildings, sending a chill through her clothing that she ignored with sheer discipline.

The security system on Eve's penthouse was sophisticated, but Reagan had installed similar models during her time with Phoenix Ridge PD. More importantly, she knew Eve. Knew her habits, her patterns, the small ways her mind worked when establishing security protocols. Ten years might have passed, but some things remained constant.

Reagan reached the narrow maintenance ledge outside Eve's balcony, her movements silent as shadow. Through the glass doors, she could see the evidence wall Eve had constructed: photographs, documents, and red yarn connecting points of interest. Her own face stared back at her from the center of the display, younger and unmarred by the decade that followed.

A bittersweet pride bloomed in Reagan's chest. Eve was good—better than good. She'd assembled more pieces than Reagan had anticipated and had followed breadcrumbs Reagan hadn't consciously left. Their minds still worked in tandem, even separated by years and circumstance.

The balcony door's security system used a standard electronic lock with a magnetic contact sensor. Reagan withdrew a small devicefrom her tactical belt, attaching it to the keypad. Three seconds later, the lock disengaged with a soft click that sounded thunderous to her heightened senses.

She paused, listening for movement within. Nothing but the subtle hum of the refrigerator and the muffled sound of Eve's shower running from the master bathroom. Reagan slipped inside, easing the door closed behind her silently.

The apartment smelled of Eve—that distinctive blend of vanilla coffee, sandalwood, and the faint trace of gunpowder that clung to officers who maintained regular range practice. Reagan inhaled deeply, the scent striking her with physical force after years of distance.

Home.The word surfaced uninvited.

Reagan pushed the thought away, focusing on the evidence wall. Eve had connected Davenport to Brooks and had mapped the timeline of Reagan's original investigation against the recent vigilante killings. She'd even identified Arthur Pembroke as the likely next target, a conclusion that sent a chill of recognition through Reagan's spine.

They still thought alike. Still followed the same investigative paths.

Movement from the shower area sent Reagan withdrawing into the shadows of the living room. She could leave now, having confirmed that Eve had indeed assembled the critical pieces. Mission parameters satisfied, tactical retreat advised.

Instead, she moved deeper into the apartment, drawn to Eve's desk where her laptop sat open, screen dimmed but active. A small evidence bag contained the Harbor Point cabin key—proof that Eve had followed Reagan's direction from their confrontation. Beside it lay a folder labeled with Reagan's badge number, containing documents Reagan recognized as copies of her original investigation files.

Eve had kept them. For ten years, she'd maintained a parallel investigation and preserved evidence that had vanished from official channels. Even believing Reagan dead or gone, she hadn't abandoned the truth they'd started uncovering together.

The shower stopped.

Reagan should move, should retreat to the shadows or exit completely. Instead, she foundherself standing before the evidence wall, studying Eve's methodical reconstruction of the Phoenix Network. Her fingers traced the red yarn connecting her photograph to Judge Harmon's, to Davenport's, to Commissioner Brooks's husband.

The sensation of being watched prickled across her skin.

Reagan turned slowly, knowing exactly what she would find.

Eve stood in the hallway entrance, dark hair damp from the shower, wearing a simple tank top and sweatpants. Reagan could see the outline of her breasts in the tight tank top. Her service weapon was aimed directly at Reagan's chest, her stance perfect despite the casual attire. No surprise showed in her expression, only a complex blend of wariness and something softer that Reagan didn't dare name.

"I was wondering when you'd come," Eve said, her voice steady though something flickered in her eyes. "You've been watching the apartment building for two nights now."

Reagan remained still, hands visible at her sides. "You knew."

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