Page 87 of Beyond Protection
"She's here. Right now."
The boat shuddered, engines reversing again as we approached the dock.
Five minutes remained before she'd disappear.
Eamon's hand tightened on my shoulder. "We're not letting you off this boat alone."
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Good." He looked at Michael. "Family stays together. We disembark as a unit. No one alone until we're back at Ma's with the doors locked."
Michael nodded. "I'll get everyone."
I stood there. Phone in hand. Message glowing.
He can't keep you safe.
Maybe she was right.
We moved as a unit. Michael leading, Ma and Claire in the middle, and Eamon and me at the rear. Matthew and Miles flanked us.
The crowd pressed close. Someone's kid shrieked about a lost hat. A man swore when his beer shattered.
Through it all, gray coats.
Everywhere.
A woman to my left, in a wool peacoat, with a toddler on her hip. Man ahead, charcoal overcoat, phone to his ear. Teenager, slate puffer jacket, vaping.
The gangway opened. We joined the flow.
The pier stretched ahead—a covered walkway with fluorescent bulbs buzzing overhead.
Gray coat near the terminal. I stopped.
Eamon nearly collided with me. "What?"
"There."
Woman. Mid-thirties. Gray coat. Moving with that same contained efficiency.
She turned.
It wasn't her—different face. Rounder jaw, but the coat was identical.
"Coincidence," Eamon said.
Gray coat by the parking lot. Gray coat near the terminal. Gray coat, gray coat, gray—
My pulse pounded.
She wasn't here. She waseverywhere.She'd picked the most common coat color in Seattle in December, made herself memorable for exactly thirty seconds, then vanished. Now every woman on this pier was her. Every silhouette. Every shadow.
She'd weaponized our surveillance.
I stopped walking. Eamon touched my elbow—steadying, but I felt the tremor in his fingers. He was seeing it too—the brilliance of it. The trap we'd walked into the moment we started looking.
"She's not here," I said. My voice came out hollow. "Or she is, and we'll never know which one."
