footage. Then their techs would review it, moment by moment, as they looked for the killer.
A killer who seemed to be back, hunting once again in the U.S.
* * *
HIS RACHEL WAS still as beautiful as ever.
Her hair was a little longer. She used to wear it just to her chin, but now it skimmed her shoulders. It was still as dark, still looked as silky.
She was a bit thinner, and there was a new delicacy to her that hadn’t been there before. Probably because of the recent attack she’d suffered.
He’d heard that Rachel had been in the hospital. A knife attack. Some crazed fool had attacked Rachel in her own apartment.
He’d been furious at the news. No one else was supposed to kill Rachel.
She was his.
The man with the dark hair stood too close to her. He touched her too much. Even then, his fingers were on her back.
Dylan Foxx. He knew the man’s name, and he also knew that Foxx was an EOD Agent.
Foxx had ex-military stamped all over him. It wasn’t the too-short hair or the go-to-hell glint that he’d caught in the man’s eyes. It was obvious in the battle-ready way he walked. In the gaze that kept sweeping across the room. The guy was looking for threats.
I’m right here, but you don’t see me.
Probably because he’d borrowed a cop’s uniform. The uniform gave him the up-close access that he needed to the hotel. He’d wanted to see who would be called in for this kill. He’d hoped Rachel would get the case.
She had. Now, finally, things could get interesting again.
He followed two other uniforms out of the hotel. He kept his head down as he walked. Not that he expected anyone to recognize him. Not with the changes he’d been through.
Rachel might look the same. Just a few slight differences.
He’d altered completely.
And that was why she would never see him coming. Not until it was far too late.
I’ve kept my promise, Rachel. I’ve come back for you.
* * *
“IS IT HIM?” Bruce Mercer demanded as his hands flattened on his desk.
Dylan hesitated before answering the boss.
“Don’t try to sugarcoat this mess,” Mercer snapped at him. “Tell me straight...is he back?”
“It’s too early to tell for certain. It could be Jack, or it could be a copycat.” He knew Rachel hoped they were dealing with a copycat, anyway.
Mercer’s eyes narrowed. As the boss of the EOD, Mercer never pulled his punches. “What does Rachel think?”
Just the mention of her name had Dylan tensing. “She’s afraid.”
Mercer grunted and rose to pace toward the window that overlooked the D.C. skyline. They were in the main EOD building—not that most folks would ever realize the nondescript structure housed the elite group of agents. To just get through the doors of the building required a level of clearance that the majority of people in the city would never possess.
Mercer stared out at the night for a moment then he said, “She’s smart to be afraid. If it is him, then he’ll try to make contact with her.”
Dylan’s fingers tightened around the armrests on either side of his leather chair. “She thinks that, too. Rachel said he’d come for her.”
Mercer turned toward Dylan. The EOD boss inclined his head. “She’s right.”
That wasn’t what Dylan wanted to hear. “Do you think he knows she’s EOD? Is he aware that she’s working with us?”
“I think this assassin knows quite a few things,” Mercer murmured. “And I think stopping him is our number-one priority.” A rough sigh escaped from Mercer. “As far as I’m aware, this man only has one weakness.”
Now that news caught Dylan’s attention because he hadn’t thought the killer had any weakness. “I’ll exploit it,” he said, more than ready to get his hands dirty on this one. That sicko wouldn’t get the chance to hurt Rachel ever—
“Rachel Mancini is his weakness.”
Dylan’s heart raced in his chest. Instinctively, he shook his head. “The man almost killed Rachel three years ago. She barely escaped him, and you actually think she’s some kind of weakness for the guy?” Dylan shook his head. “Mercer, you’re usually a whole lot better on this than—”
“Do you wonder why he didn’t kill her?” Mercer cut through his words.
He didn’t wonder. He knew. “Because she fought him. She got away. She shot him,” Dylan gritted out the words.
“From what I can tell, this man has been making his living as a killer for years. He’s never let anyone who he has targeted live, until Rachel. She was his prey. He had her tied up for at least two hours, according to our intel. He could’ve killed her at any point during that time frame.” Mercer rolled back his shoulders. “He didn’t.”
Dylan didn’t like to think of Rachel tied up, scared and alone with the killer known as Jack.
“Did you know that I’ve recently brought a new profiler into the fold here at the EOD?” Mercer asked.
Talk about a change in topic... Dylan’s eyes narrowed on the guy.
“I think you met Noelle Evers before,” Mercer continued as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “She worked with the FBI, but I...drafted her and convinced Noelle to join our team. It’s on a probationary basis for now because she’s not like the others here. No military background.” His hand fell to his side. “But I think that’s an advantage for her. It lets her see things from a different perspective.”
He needed to get Mercer back on track. “Sir—”
“It was Dr. Evers who pinpointed Jack’s weakness. She saw what I didn’t.”
“And what was that?” Dylan wanted out of that office. Actually, he wanted to go and check on Rachel. She’d been so shaken, and Rachel didn’t usually show her fear.
Except when Jack is involved.
“Dr. Evers realized that Jack couldn’t kill Rachel.”
That was bull. “He shot at her—”
“And only hit her shoulder. Even though he was less than five feet away from her. Odd, isn’t it? For a professional killer, I mean. He should’ve been able to make that shot.”
Dylan was just damn grateful he hadn’t.
“Dr. Evers thinks that Jack only fired to stop her from hurting him.” Mercer’s gaze held
