Jake looked at the two tall men holding the front doors of Duibne Industries North Tower as he walked out. A Spanish fellow and a red head watched him silently as he fingered the key Caitlinn had given him, twirling it on his finger as they let the doors close behind him. With a deep breath, he walked away from the glass building, looking up at the towering structure.
They had confiscated his gun and wallet, not that there was anything in there that was true or identifying, for that matter. They handed back his items the moment the elevator hit the Lobby, again without a single word to him. No warning or apology, other than Charlie Hammond's back in the interview room.
The blue eyed man made him think of Caitlinn again. She was with him...engaged to him, Hammond said. Jake wasn't sure if he wasn't just confused or maybe a little jealous, but even that thought confused him even more. There was never anything between him and Cait. No longing looks, no accidental touching, not even a hint of interest from her, so he spent the years knowing her and never feeling the need to see if there was something was there.
There wasn't anything there.
Jake paused in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at the ground trying to figure out if that statement was true. He looked down at the key in his hand and wondered why she had given it to him. The brownstone wasn't far from Duibne, and he was already heading in the direction of it, so he began walking again. He'd do the cursory walk by, check the place out, and make sure they weren't tailing him. The apartment was maybe a half hour walk, but he took three times that to make sure, despite the threat of Randolph was gone.
Randolph's destruction left him painfully exposed, but its main competitor...the reason for its existence, it seemed like, and Duibne Industries destroyed Randolph financially and decimated the entire company. Any and all contacts were gone and no one came after him in the past year since his team was wiped. It was a quiet existence, but that's the way he had led his life after leaving the force.
Entering the brownstone via the back entrance, Jake made his way to the second floor and let himself quietly, pushing the door open wide with his boot. Gun drawn, he stepped into the room and cleared the entire space, checking for any signs of devices or foul play, but there was nothing. The bed was made, the kitchen cleaned, and minimal food in the cupboards that sat unspoiled. Securing the door and checking out the windows, Jake stood in the middle of the living room and looked around.
He was alone. He was used to that, though.