Page 36 of Whispers in the Night

“Absolutely not,” Silas said flatly. “We’re not using you as bait.”

“We already had this conversation—”

“And my answer hasn’t changed.” Silas moved to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the body. “You’re not putting yourself in danger. I won’t allow it.”

Harper felt anger flare, hot and sharp. “You won’tallowit? Last I checked, you’re not my keeper, Detective Kane.”

“I’m the lead investigator on this case, and you’re a consultant under my authority. If I say you’re off the streets, you’re off the streets.”

Harper’s hands balled into fists at her sides. “Try it and I’ll go over your head to the FBI. I’m a federal agent—”

“On leave,” Silas cut in. “Which means you’re not operating under FBI authority. You’re here as a consultant to local PD. My jurisdiction. My rules.”

They glared at each other, tension crackling between them. In Harper’s peripheral vision, she could see Holloway and the other officers watching the standoff with undisguised interest.

“Captain,” Harper said, not breaking eye contact with Silas. “With all due respect, pulling me off the streets sends the wrong message. It tells the killer he’s winning. It tells him he’s successfully terrorized his target.”

“It also keeps you alive,” Holloway pointed out.

“For how long?” Harper finally looked away from Silas to address the captain. “He’s escalating. Three victims in four nights. He’s building toward an endgame, and that endgame is me. If we don’t stop him now, he’ll keep killing women who look like me until he feels ready. How many more have to die while I hide?”

Holloway was quiet for a long moment. Then, “Kane, Sinclair, my office. Now. Everyone else, process the scene. I want everything—DNA, fibers, anything that might give us a lead.”

They followed Holloway to his car. The drive to the station was silent, tense. Harper stared out the window, watchingBlackridge slide past in the darkness. Somewhere out there, a killer was planning his next move. Planning for her.

And she’d brought him here. By coming to Blackridge, by being visible, by existing, she’d drawn him to this place. These women’s blood was on her hands as surely as if she’d carved the symbols herself.

No,she thought firmly.Silas was right. This is on the killer. Not me.

But knowing that intellectually didn’t stop the guilt from crushing her chest.

At the station, Holloway led them to his office and closed the door. He gestured for them to sit. Silas sat immediately, but Harper remained standing, too wired to settle.

“Agent Sinclair,” Holloway began, “I understand your instinct is to confront this threat head-on. That’s admirable. But my job is to protect people, and right now, you’re a person who needs protecting.”

“I don’t need protection—”

“Yes, you do.” Holloway’s voice was firm but not unkind. “A serial killer has been obsessed with you for five years. He’s killed at least six women—probably more—because they reminded him of you. He’s left you two notes explicitly threatening you. And now he’s killing women who look exactly like you, in a city where you’re currently living. You need protection.”

“What I need is to catch this bastard before he kills anyone else,” Harper growled.

“And we will. But not by throwing you to the wolves.” Holloway leaned forward. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Detective Kane will move into your cabin—”

“What?” Harper and Silas said simultaneously.

“—for the duration of this investigation,” Hollway continued, holding up a hand for them to listen. “You’ll have twenty-four-hour protection. You won’t go anywhere without him. You’llmaintain your normal routine as much as possible so the killer doesn’t know we’re onto his plan, but you’ll be protected at all times.”

“Captain, I don’t need a babysitter—” Harper started.

“This isn’t negotiable.” Holloway’s tone left no room for argument. “Either you accept protection, or I have you placed in federal custody for your own safety. Your choice.”

Harper’s jaw clenched. She wanted to argue, wanted to refuse, wanted to prove she could handle this alone. But she could see Holloway meant it. And federal custody would mean being locked away somewhere, completely unable to help with the investigation.

At least this way, she could still work the case.

“Fine,” she bit out, hating every aspect of the plan, even if she knew deep down he was right.

Holloway turned to Silas. “You’re okay with this?”