As Spruce sent off her mystery submission to be compared with each profile in the database, she had one thought for her subject.

We’re not done with you yet.

CHAPTER 25

Manhattan, New York City

Jill McDade got off the subway at the Franklin Street Station in Lower Manhattan, and headed to the FBI’s New York headquarters at 26 Federal Plaza. She had her phone to her ear, talking to her daughter Alison.

“Can I go to Morgan’s sleepover this weekend, Mom? Please?”

“We’ll talk about it when I get home from work, honey.”

“Okay. And Mom, did you talk to your friend Ray? Are we going to see him and Molly again?”

“I talked to him. He’s away right now, but we’ll see when he gets back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Have fun with Gwen at the park. Wish I had the day off, too. Love you. Bye.”

Smiling, McDade rolled her eyes while giving her head a small, pleasant shake. She was buoyed by Alison’s call, pleased that she was doing so well after the last few sessions with her therapist, Doctor Orlov.

“I find kids tend to be more resilient than adults,” Orlov had told McDade. “They’re just wired differently.”

Reflecting on it all, McDade believed that she, Alison, and Gwen, too, were all stronger for what they’d endured. If anything, it had left them with a renewed understanding of how fragile life is. And, in its own way, hanging out with Ray Wyatt and Molly had also been therapeutic for Alison.

And for me, too.

McDade had survived trauma before, when she’d lost her husband to cancer years ago. Watching Alison grieve for her dad, unable to assuage her anguish through the never-ending sleepless nights and numbing, blank days, had been almost more than McDade could bear.

The pain had never subsided. It became a part of her, teaching McDade to take nothing for granted in this world. She adhered to Winston Churchill’s words: If you’re going through hell, keep going. Never give up.

In the last few months, she’d thrown herself into her work. She hadn’t seen Wyatt in a while, but was happy to hear his voice, happy he was reporting again after the layoffs at his news wire service. They’d become friends after the Starving Wolf case. She liked him, and was looking forward to seeing him again, but she was buried with work.

Arriving at her building, McDade pulled out her ID and her weapon, in keeping with security procedure. After passing through, she took the elevator to her desk on the 28th floor.

She logged on to her computer to review her caseload. She had more than a dozen cases all at different stages. Some were cold, and she was checking for leads; others were pending. Others were more active, with upcoming interviews, searches, and indictments.