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Draven tapped a few keys. The image expanded, revealing damage identical to what Blake had spotted when the SUV that nearly killed him and Devon sped away.
“Plate?”
“Partial. Lincoln’s running them against vehicles matching the description as we speak.”
“Driver?”
Draven shook his head. “Tint on the windows is too dark.”
Blake stared at the screen. The bastard had been sitting there. Waiting.
“How long were they there before the attack?”
“Forty-three minutes before you and Devon left the building.”
Blake’s jaw tightened. “So somehow whoever it was figured out Devon was in D.C. That she was with me . . . here.”
Blake thought back to the previous afternoon.
Devon’s smiling face. The way her hand had tucked into his. Her loving expression when he’d called her his girl.
He’d been so damn happy, he hadn’t noticed someone preparing to run them down.
“Don’t do that.”
He blinked and turned toward Draven. “Do what?”
“You couldn’t have known.” His teammate sent him a pointed look.
“I should have.”
“Blake, these people are good. Look.”
Draven switched to another camera angle. The image showed Blake and Devon leaving the building together. Moments later, the dark SUV pulled away from the curb and headed in the same direction.
“All I see is them following us.” Blake shrugged. “So what’s your point?”
“It’s how they followed you.”
Over the next few seconds, Draven proceeded to make his point clear by showing him still images from other cameras posted in the area. The SUV didn’t follow them in a straight line. Instead, it wove its way in and out of the other blocks along the route.
“The parking garage exit is at the south side of our building. They were parked on the east side facing north. Given their location in relation to the intersection you took before turning south, it’s no wonder you didn’t see them. Hell, I wouldn’t have noticed them, either. Add to that their tactical movements when they began following you, it’s no wonder you had no idea they were there.”
His teammate was right. Logically, Blake knew Draven was right. But emotionally, it did little to ease his guilt.
“Doesn’t change what happened.”
“No.” Draven’s blue eyes met his. “But beating yourself up won’t change anything either.”
Blake looked at the monitor again. He studied the frozen images filling its screen. Whoever was in that SUV knew exactly where to find Devon, and that scared the hell out of him.
He took a drink of his coffee as their new office manager stepped inside the conference room.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Claire’s striking green gaze landed on Blake. “How’s Devon?”
“Concussed. Sore. Annoyed with me.”
The brunette woman grinned. “I’m glad she’s feeling better.”
