INT. - GARRET JAY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Gerri pounded on the door of the loft, finally venting some of her anger on the heavy metal entry. A glance at her watch gave her 2:17 AM and, from the muffled sounds inside the apartment, she'd caught her quarry at home.
Her anger hadn't diminished in the car on the way here when she called in Garret's name for a specific address, or in the elevator ride to the second floor and his apartment. If anything, it only intensified, as she thought about Jackson.
Thing was, he was right. She was a freak. No one had a clean record like she did. And though she herself wavered between worry there was something truly and fundamentally wrong with her and fighting off that same fear, knowing someone like him-an enemy if ever she met one-had her in his sights just made things all the more complicated.