Tough Justice: Watched. Tyler Snell Anne
cheek.
“I’ll make this right,” she whispered. “He won’t get away with what he’s done.”
As she made the promise, Lara couldn’t help but picture the man she’d destroyed. Or, at least, the man she thought she’d destroyed.
Lara rolled her shoulders and left Elizabeth Grant behind.
* * *
The way back to the office was spent in a fit of building rage. Lara’s knuckles were white. Her grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping her from screaming. Elizabeth Grant was dead because of her. There were no two ways about it. She had been used as a message, a way to shake Lara.
And it had worked.
She took the stairs to the twenty-third floor slowly to work out her strained emotions. Not losing her drive but evening out her aggression. She needed to be sharper. No more doubts. More focused. Moretti was a sore spot for her. One that was more than being prodded. If she let him get under her skin, then she ran the chance of losing sight of the endgame.
Stopping him. Once and for all.
Lara exited the stairwell and walked right up to her cubicle with more of a calm exterior than she perhaps actually possessed. Nick’s monitor was on, but he was nowhere in the room. She’d sent him a text just after she’d left Macy’s, letting him know she was headed back to the office, but he hadn’t responded. The rest of the team was also absent from the main room. She hoped that meant they had found a lead—something—that they were currently following. Lara didn’t waste time wondering. She had her own lead to chase.
Cass was standing behind her chair, facing away from the door, when Lara knocked. Even before she turned around, it wasn’t hard to see she was stressed. Her shoulders were stiff. She turned quick. An expression akin to alarm crossed her face. It transformed into a sweeping stare of comprehension, before stopping on the cases in her hand.
“I heard about the woman,” she greeted, walking forward with her hand outstretched. Her purple glasses were pushed to the top of her head, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Lara handed the CCTV footage over. “Was it true? The stamp, I mean.”
Lara didn’t want to, but she nodded. “Yes.”
Cass sat back in her chair and swiveled around. “Where?” Her voice was clipped.
“Her cheek.”
Cass nodded. Her head tilted slightly. Lara bet she was looking at the picture of Allie on her desk. They didn’t speak for a moment. Lara didn’t want to intrude on her thoughts, but, then she knew she had to do just that.
“She was found in the dressing room. No cameras at the entrance. The top DVD is from the camera closest, but the security guard said it went inactive for a few minutes,” she explained.
“During the attack,” Cass supplied.
“More than likely, yes. Officers already went through it. Said they didn’t find anything, but there has to be something.”
Cass slipped her glasses down to her nose. “And I’ll find it.”
Voices sounded in the hallway.
“They’re back,” Lara said, hearing Nick. “I’m going to see if they found anything.”
Cass waved over her shoulder. “Go. I’ll find you when I find something. But, Lara...” She turned in her chair. Her expression was blank. Lara saw something she’d missed when she’d first come in. Cass looked exhausted.
“Yes?”
“What was the victim’s name?”
It was Lara’s turn to stiffen. “Elizabeth Grant,” she bit out.
Cass’s expression hardened. “I’ll look for a connection between our victims,” she said, already turning back to the wall of monitors.
“Thank you, Cass.”
Lara followed the voice to the break room. Nick had his phone to his ear, leaning against the counter. He acknowledged her with a small nod.
“Call me if you find anything,” he said. “No matter the time. Understand?” Whoever was on the other end of the line must have. Nick ended the call moments later. “NYPD,” he said, motioning to his phone.
“I’m assuming that means no luck on your end.”
Nick shook his head. Lara wasn’t surprised. “No one saw anything,” he said. “Our sniper vanished in the wind.”
Lara ran a hand over her face and winced at the movement. Her shoulder was still tender.
“I’m surprised you didn’t catch him,” Nick said, his eyes at her shoulder. “The way you tore after him.” He went over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer side. Moving a few things around, he pulled an ice pack out. “Can we talk about how you might think to use some caution every now and again, though? Running toward a sniper tends to fall into the dangerous category. Not to mention, careless. You could have been killed.”
He threw her the pack. She caught it with her left hand before placing it against her right shoulder. She couldn’t deny it felt good.
“I think dangerous is a part of our job description,” she said, drily. “Including but not limited to running headlong into the unknown.”
“Except this wasn’t the unknown,” he pointed out. “It was right up to the sniper who’d just picked off two potential leads only a few feet away.”
“So I should have let him get away without a fight?” Lara asked. She dropped her voice, ice finding its way into the resolve behind each syllable. “I couldn’t and wouldn’t let that happen. Whoever this sniper is, he needs to be stopped. He knows something, and he knows who else knows something, too. Little fish to catch a big fish.”
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