Chapter 22

His feet moved of their own accord toward the bedroom. They needed to discuss the interrogation, and he wanted to thank Brady for everything he’d done for him over the past twelve hours.

When he pushed the door open, the lights were off, but he saw perfectly how Brady stretched out on the bed. He lay on his side, his back to the door. His arm was curled under his head, and his hand rested on the rumpled spot where Cole had slept. He didn’t move. From his rear vantage, Cole couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open. But he was awake.

“Thanks for the clothes,” Cole said softly, unwilling to disturb Brady more than he already was.

Brady didn’t roll over, didn’t even look over his shoulder. “Do they fit okay?”

“Yeah. Just great.”

“What about the shoes?”

Though he hadn’t tried them on, he said, “Perfect.” He’d bind his feet like a geisha if he had to make them fit. “About tonight—”

“I don’t want you talking to Webster.”

“But he’ll ride you if I don’t.”