But the monster was still out there.And until they caught him, until they stopped him, she couldn't afford to want anything.
"I'll take a break," she said finally."A few hours.But I need you to promise me something."
"Name it."
"If anything comes up—any lead, any sighting, anything—you call me.Immediately.No matter what time it is."
James studied her for a long moment.She could see him weighing the request, calculating whether agreeing would help or hurt, whether giving her an escape clause would defeat the whole purpose of making her rest.
"If anythingsignificantcomes up," he said."Not every update.Not every report.But if we find something real, you'll be the first to know."
It wasn't exactly what she'd asked for, but it was what he was willing to give.Isla nodded, too tired to argue.
"Deal."
"Good."He stepped back, giving her space to stand."Now go home.And Rivers?"
She paused at the door, looking back at him.
"I'll be here when you get back.We'll figure this out together.We always do."
The words shouldn't have meant as much as they did.We always do.As if it were that simple.As if two people working together could actually make a difference against the darkness that kept claiming victims no matter how hard they fought.
But standing there in her office doorway, running on three hours of sleep and too much cold coffee, Isla let herself believe it.Just for a moment.
"Thanks, Sullivan," she said.
His mouth curved in that half-smile she'd come to know so well."Anytime, Rivers."
She walked out of the office, past the bullpen where the overnight team was handing off to the day shift, past Kate's door where she could see her boss already on the phone with someone from Washington.The elevator was empty at this hour, and she rode down alone, her reflection a ghost in the polished metal doors.
He's still out there,she thought.Robert Brune is still out there, somewhere, and you're no closer to finding him than you were before.
But James was right about one thing: she couldn't catch a monster if she was too exhausted to think.She'd go home.She'd sleep.She'd eat something that wasn't stale crackers from her desk drawer.
And then she'd start again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Derek Paulson felt the cold’s teeth biting through his layered fleece and thermal base, gnawing at his exposed cheeks and the tips of his ears despite the wool beanie he'd pulled down low.March in Duluth was a liar's month—the calendar promised spring, but the thermometer told a different story.Twenty-two degrees at six in the morning, with a wind chill that made it feel like single digits.
Perfect conditions for what he'd come to capture.
He moved up the trail with the practiced efficiency of someone who had hiked these paths a hundred times before.His camera bag hung heavy on his back, the tripod a familiar weight in his gloved hands.Hawk Ridge spread out around him in the pre-dawn darkness, the overlook still fifteen minutes ahead, the city lights of Duluth twinkling far below like fallen stars.To the east, Lake Superior stretched toward a horizon that was just beginning to blush with the faintest hint of pink.
Golden hour, Derek thought.More like platinum hour up here.
He'd been planning this shot for three weeks.Checking weather forecasts obsessively, tracking sunrise times, studying the angle of light as winter slowly loosened its grip on the North Shore.The conditions had never aligned quite right—too cloudy, too windy, too much lake effect snow rolling in to ruin the visibility.But this morning, the forecast promised clear skies and calm winds, that rare combination that could turn an ordinary sunrise into something transcendent.
The kind of shot that might finally get him noticed.
At forty-three, Derek was old enough to know that his dreams of becoming the next Ansel Adams were probably just that—dreams.He had a day job selling insurance, a modest apartment in Lincoln Park, and a social media following that hovered stubbornly around two thousand no matter how many hashtags he used.But every once in a while, he captured something that reminded him why he'd picked up a camera in the first place.Something that made people stop scrolling and actuallylook.
That's what he was chasing this morning.That moment of perfect alignment between light and land and water, frozen forever in a single frame.
The trail steepened, and Derek paused to catch his breath.His lungs burned against the cold air, his thighs protesting the climb.He really needed to get back to the gym.Or at least start taking the stairs at work instead of the elevator.
After this shot, he promised himself.I'll start being healthy after this shot.