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gesture. Her response had left little to be savored. She hadn’t even noticed his touch. It was like some vile enemy had turned her against him.
    Red-hot coals were being raked against his heart and she couldn’t even see his pain due to her dependence on this circus of distractions. She was turning out like the others when he’d thought she was different.
    He drummed his fingers on the desk and listened to the calming rhythm, but all the incessant noise did was stir the anger that clung to him like the sweet fragrance of her perfume.
    He couldn’t wait any longer for her to come to him.
    It was time.

CHAPTER FOUR
    ‡
    K eane surveyed the United States Attorney Office’s building from his position across 4th Street NW, in the parking lot of the Juvenile Probation Office on the eastern side of Judiciary Square. He held the coffee he’d gotten at Jack’s Famous Deli down the street as he studied the layout for which someone could monitor the comings and goings of the employees. There were multiple points of entry, although that would most likely not concern the perpetrator the feds were currently looking for. Whoever was targeting Ashlyn Ellis was already well aware of her routine and had watched at great length for several months.
    The cool weather brought by the dipping sun and endless rows of icy concrete facades bereft of any warmth had put a nip in the air, but the chill he felt in his bones could very well be from his last memory of Ashlyn. Keane pushed the visual away as he gazed up at the multiple levels of blackened windows. He recalled from the dossier he’d gone over on the plane that Ashlyn’s office was located on the second floor. Unless their suspect had specialized optics equipment to penetrate the tint, a vantage point located outside of her office wasn’t the place from which she could be observed.
    Keane answered his cell phone when it chimed without looking at the display. He’d already called his sister and dad to let both of them know he’d be out of touch for a while on a case. That left some old friends back in California south of L.A. or his current employer. He was betting on the latter.
    “Sanderson.”
    “Calvert wants twelve hour check-ins—either voice or electronic. The details are in the email he sent you covering your case,” Brody announced, giving Keane the victory. It was rather hollow seeing as he was the only one celebrating his small feat. “Coen should be arriving in Florida tomorrow morning and I hear he’s got some connections up in D.C. that you might be able to use, because I have nothing so far on this surveillance feed that was hijacked.”
    “How is that possible?” Keane questioned while at the same time wondering what kind of contacts Coen Flynn could possibly have that Calvert didn’t. “I was never into all that tech shit, but isn’t there some way to locate an IP address for this asshole?”
    “And now I know why you were in the field while I was back at basecamp making sure your ass was clear of fire and headed in the right fucking direction,” Brody muttered, not bothering to cover up his words too much. His irritability did cause Keane to smile at the memories of their last deployment together. It was nice to have someone have his six that he already had an established friendship with. “Listen, it’s simple. Whoever you’re dealing with is good at the technical aspect and knows how to cover his tracks. Calvert doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes without good reason fresh out of the gate, so we’re still only under contract for offering protection services.”
    Keane understood what Brody was conveying and actually agreed with the assessment to keep a low profile. Safeguard Security & Investigations was just getting off of the ground. Calvert had them licensed as a private and government contracting firm, meaning their clearances allowed them cases that needed to be handled with a little discretion. This assignment had only been