Page 115 of Whispers in the Night

Later, in bed, Silas held her as she finally let herself cry. For the victims. For the families. For the trauma of the past three weeks. For the terror of almost losing something she’d only just found.

And Silas held her through it all, steady and strong and present. Proof that she wasn’t alone anymore. That she didn’t have to carry the weight of the darkness by herself.

“I love you,” Harper whispered into the darkness.

“I love you too,” Silas whispered back. “Always.”

Tomorrow there would be more work. More reports, more coordination with other jurisdictions, more processing of evidence. Tomorrow Harper would have to think about her future, about transfer requests and logistics and what it meant to build a life with someone.

But tonight, wrapped in Silas’s arms, she let herself just be. Just feel. Just exist in this moment of peace after weeks of chaos.

The case was closed. The killer was dead. And somehow, impossibly, Harper had found something she’d thought she’d lost forever.

Hope.

Chapter 23

Three days after Dale Sutton’s death, Harper stood in the FBI’s Portland field office, meeting with the Special Agent in Charge.

“Your record is impressive, Agent Sinclair,” SAC Lauren Price said, reviewing Harper’s file. “Exemplary closure rates, multiple commendations, expertise in serial violent crime. We’d be lucky to have you on the team.”

Harper tried not to appear too happy. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“The transfer wouldn’t be immediate—there’s paperwork, clearances, the usual bureaucratic nonsense. But I can have you placed by the end of next month if you’re serious about this.” Price looked up, her expression shrewd. “Can I ask what’s prompting the move? You’ve been in Nevada for five years. That’s your home territory.”

Harper had expected this question. “I think it’s time for a change. A fresh perspective. And the Pacific Northwest has a higher concentration of the type of cases I specialize in.”

Price studied her for a long moment. “That’s the professional answer. What’s the personal one?”

Harper hesitated, then decided honesty was the best policy. “There’s someone here. Someone important.”

Price smiled. “Detective Kane from Blackridge, if I had to guess. Word travels fast in law enforcement circles, especially after you two closed nineteen connected murders.” She closedthe file. “Good. I’d rather have agents who have reasons to be invested in the region they’re serving. Makes for better work.”

“So the transfer is approved?” Harper asked, daring to hope.

“Pending the usual background checks and paperwork, yes.” Price stood and extended her hand across the wide desk. Harper followed suit and grasped it firmly. “Welcome to Portland, Agent Sinclair.”

Harper left the field office feeling lighter than she had in weeks. The decision had been made. She was staying. Building a life here, with Silas, instead of running back to Nevada and the ghosts that haunted her there.

Silas was waiting in the car, trying and failing to look casual. “Well?”

“It’s approved. I’ll be transferred by the end of next month.”

The smile that broke across his face was brilliant. “You’re sure? This is what you want?”

“I’m sure.” Harper slid into the passenger seat. “I want this. I want us. I want to see where this goes without the pressure of a case or the distance of two states between us.”

Silas pulled her into a kiss that was both tender and celebratory. When they broke apart, both were grinning.

“We should celebrate,” Silas said. “Dinner? Drinks? Whatever you want.”

“Actually...” Harper glanced at the time. It was barely three p.m. “What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Nothing that can’t be rescheduled. What did you have in mind?”

She hesitated, then made the leap. “Take me home. To your place. I want to see where you live, where I’ll be spending time when I move here.”

Silas’s eyes darkened with understanding. “Home it is.”