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In Graywolf's Hands

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2018
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With Elliot gone, there was no one to distract her. Unable to remain any longer in the room with a man she loathed with every fiber of her being, she turned on her heel and walked out. She paused long enough to talk to the agent who was sitting at the desk less than five feet from the door.

“I want to know the second he opens his eyes, Special Agent,” she told him. “Not the minute, the second. Clear?”

The dark head bobbed up and down. This was his first assignment. “Absolutely, Special Agent Wakefield.”

Had she ever been that eager? she wondered. When she’d first come to the Bureau, had she seemed this wet behind the ears?

Somehow, she doubted it. There were times when she thought she’d been born old. At other times she knew it was her father’s death and the job that had done this to her.


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