No, not Julie. Audrey Hamilton. Reference and Liaison Librarian, University of Illinois.

With a frown, Gabe skimmed the report.

A hitman named Spyros implicated in an author’s murder. Assault on a woman who’d done research for the author.

That’s where Julie’s bruises had come from. A cold chill filled his gut. She was lucky to be alive. “Where’d you get this?”

“Yesterday, I queried the Chicago police to see if there’d been any incidents involving an “Audrey” in the month before she showed up here.”

Anger rose. “Did you think you might have run that past me first?”

Baumer stiffened. “I didn’t figure I needed permission to check into her background.”

“She hasn’t done anything to justify an investigation into her past.”

“Someone needed to check on her, and you weren’t doing it.”

“Because I figured she had a reason to be scared and hiding.”

Because he’d wanted her to trust him enough to tell him. Gabe scrolled down and found Spyros’s rap sheet. Professional murderer. “Seems I was right.”

Baumer flushed.

“You were out of line, Baumer.” Gabe kept his voice even. “I realize it takes a while to learn the station policies and chief’s boundaries.” He left unsaid the warning: Do not do it again.

The way Baumer stiffened showed he’d gotten the message.

“Yeah, well, sorry.” Baumer hit the keyboard, deleted the information, and pushed his chair back. “Guess I’ll get back to enjoying my days off.”

The door didn’t…quite…slam behind the officer.

Late Monday afternoon, Audrey was at her usual spot in the back of the coffee shop. The scent of coffee mingled with the fragrance of freshly baked pastries. Her mouth watered.

Breakfast had been dry cereal and milk. Lunch a carton of yogurt.

Uriah had made chocolate chip cookies. Damn him.

Absolutely not, girl. The budget didn’t allow for tasty goodies…and neither did her jeans. Although she’d stayed so busy here that the weight she’d lost hadn’t returned.

One cookie wouldn’t hurt anything.

Abandoning her analysis of the pedestrian patterns in New York that she was doing for a newsstand company client, she brought up her email. Anything to keep her mind off buttery cookies with chocolate and…

Oh, look, Dennison has written.

Hoping for good news, Audrey opened the email. And read the FBI agent’s email.

Read it again.

Yesterday, the Rescue, AK PD queried the Chicago police department about you.

She stared at the email until the letters began to dance on the display. A sense of betrayal rolled through her in an ugly black wave. Slamming the laptop shut, she jumped to her feet.

Gabe knew she was running. Knew she was scared. And he didn’t care. He wanted his questions answered and apparently would do anything to get answers.

Had Spyros’s informants in the Chicago police department told him about the inquiry from Rescue?