And then Meghan was striding out of the building still wearing work clothes but carrying a backpack. She shot them all a look and Griffin raised his hand in greeting. She nodded in return.

“’Kay. Better go sort this before she leaves. Later, guys.” Cowboy strode toward the female operator hopefully planning to beg for forgiveness.

“I actually think that’s one mission he could fail,” Shane mused, watching the pair’s body language.

“Want to grab a beer?” Griffin asked.

Shane shook his head. “Can’t. I have to get back to the task force. I want to know what Boris tells them. See if they came up with any useable leads in the meantime.” He looked at his teammate whose mouth had sunk into an unhappy line and paused. “How about you join me? I’m sure Sloan wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands. But it’s mainly grunt work.”

Griffin’s eyes lit up. “I excel at grunt work. Let’s go.”

Yael slugged back her fizzy water and ate a banana like a good girl. Mallory had arrived with a whole bunch of healthy snacks for the task force. It was amazing how quickly Yael had grown fed up of fast food when it was all she’d eaten for a few days.

It hadn’t escaped Yael’s notice that Jack Reilly was acting as Mallory’s unofficial shadow today. The danger was real. Alex didn’t take chances with his wife’s or daughter’s safety.

The fact Mallory was armed probably eased some of his anxiety.

What was that like? Loving someone whose job was inherently dangerous? The thought hovered unwanted in her mind, distracting her from her focus, but maybe she simply needed a quick break.

Baby Georgina sucked wetly on her fingers as Mallory chatted to Ashley Chen and SSA Sheridan’s fiancée as if they were all old friends.

And there was that aching void again. The fierce burning desire to be part of a close-knit group. To have friends who didn’t turn on you when they found out your brother was a cold-blooded murderer.

Yael bowed her head to hide her errant emotions. She sent Laura a quick text to check up on her again. Her colleague didn’t reply but she was probably sleeping.

Ron Borisky was being questioned by an ADA in a secure room upstairs.

Yael had gone through each of the victim files, although she hadn’t watched the actual footage of the murders. There was no obvious pattern. Victims ranged from a plumber, a schoolteacher, a stay-at-home mom, a mall cop, two students—one male and one female, a judge, and a factory manager. Nothing immediately linked them, although she wanted to dig deeper into their respective backgrounds by going through financials.