“So, Rosie,” Emily started, completely ignoring Sam. “How have you been?”
Rosie cocked her head and looked at her. “Fine.”
“And the lead on your father?” She looked almost…hopeful.
“Dead. Not literally, you understand. It was more than two weeks old. Nothing to it at all.”
Sam was completely confused. Somewhere between how are you and the word lead the two women had totally lost him. Some hidden secret that the two of them shared lay just beneath the surface, but he was oblivious to what it was. Obviously it involved Rosie’s father, but why he had no idea.
Nate looked at him and mouthed the words, “you ok?”
He nodded. After a few more confusing minutes, he motioned Nate to the door. The two stepped outside and lowered their voices.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Nate asked.
“I’m thinking we might need a background check on Rosie.” Sam shrugged, but kept his face serious.
“Why? Oh, you mean the lead thing. That one is puzzling. But, Sam, just because Emily knows her doesn’t mean you have to pry into her life. Let it go, buddy. We’re all confused sometimes.”
Sam stared at him. Why did Nate’s logic have to make so much sense? He hated it when Nate was right, which was often. Right now he wanted to strangle him.
Emily was not just some person, she was Emily. She had enemies because of her job. He did background checks on everyone he knew, so why should Emily’s friends be any different?
“Sam, you have to learn to trust people. Take them at their word.” Nate nodded and laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam glanced at the hand on his shoulder and then back to Nate.
“The hand is too much?” he asked, nodding the entire time.
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Ok, then.” Nate raised his hand and folded his arms. “So, why don’t we trust Rosie? I thought she seemed nice enough.”
“Almost too nice,” Sam muttered.
“You really need to get over your trust issues, man. The FBI has made you into a monster. Do you need a few weeks off?”
“Nate, I do not need a few weeks off, and I am not a monster.” He rolled his eyes. How dare Nate call him a monster? He was no different than anyone else!
“Ok, let’s review,” Nate said dramatically. “First off, you want to run a background check on a very normal young lady. Second, you think everyone in Emily’s life needs screening. And third, and this is my personal favorite, you pulled me away from my girlfriend to tell me that you have trust issues and think Emily’s best friend may be a spy. You are so paranoid!”
“I am not paranoid, Nate.” Sam stuck to his one-sentence statements, trying to contain his frustration.
“Really?” He shook his head. “Because Webster’s dictionary refers to paranoid as suffering from a mental disorder characterized by systematized delusions ascribing hostile intentions to other persons, often linked with a sense of mission. Or you could go with paranoia – the root word — which is baseless or excessive mistrust of others. Which is pretty much what I described.”
“You have the dictionary memorized?” Sam asked. He was quite dubious about this fact. Nate had barely made it through the books his mother kept sending him.
“I was bored, ok? Besides, mom stopped sending me books because she went on vacation. It’s not my fault.” He pouted and pulled his folded arms tighter. He shrugged. “So, anyway, paranoid.”
“Just because I almost completely fit the description does not mean that I am paranoid. It just means that there’s an exception to every rule.”
“Uh-oh. Now you’re in denial. Do you need that definition too?”
“No.” Sam vehemently shook his head.
“Too bad, you’re getting it. Psychologically, it is the reduction of anxiety by the unconscious exclusion from the mind of intolerable thoughts, feelings, or facts. The simpler definition is disbelief in the existence or reality of a thing.”
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Thank you for that informative speech. I now know everything I was trying to deny.”
Nate smiled and patted his arm. “Just spreading the joy, Sam. Just spreading the joy.” He marched back inside.
Sam let out a long breath. Why that man had memorized the exact dictionary references, he had no idea. However, it had helped prove his point.
So maybe he was just a little paranoid. It couldn’t hurt, could it? The saying was better safe than sorry. So maybe he could legitimately say better paranoid than dead.
He ran his hands through his hair. No, that would never work. He had to get over his trust issues, like Nate had said. He had to learn to take people at their word, to let something in his life take flight on its own. He had to learn to be more like God.
Of course, that was easier said than done. Besides, God knew everything anyway, so he didn’t need a background check. Sam, on the other hand, did. It was his way of controlling the world he lived in, of knowing what was coming before it hit. How was he supposed to let go of the one aspect of his life that made more sense than anything he had ever known? It made more sense than his father’s death. It made more sense than his mother’s rejection. Families were supposed to pull together, but his had fallen apart. How was he supposed to let go of the only stable thing he had known for the past twenty years? He looked up to heaven. This wasn’t possible. It was too hard. But, deep down in his spirit, he heard the quiet, peaceful words he knew were true.
With God, all things are possible.
NINE
After eating all the pie and turkey they could ever hold, Emily bid the guests goodbye and lumbered to the kitchen to help her father with the dishes. She knew they needed to talk, and they always had their best talks while doing kitchen chores or making chocolate.
“Dry,” her father instructed.
Emily grabbed an orange, yellow, and red towel from the front of the oven and joined him at the sink.
“So, what do you think of them?” She asked.
Mark smiled as he inspected a glass. “Well, I think we need to take them all individually. Jewel is my personal favorite. She is very sweet.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “It’s amazing, considering she practically grew up in the system. A lot of kids grow up and become thieves or criminals but she became a writer. It’s a miracle.” She paused. “Nate next. I like Nate.”
“Oh, what to say about that young man?” Mark shook his head.
Emily laughed. That pretty much summed up Nate. She was glad her father liked the two young people in her life, but the pressing question was still what he thought of Sam. She really wanted to know, but her I-don’t-care persona wouldn’t allow her to ask.
“Sam is quite the gentleman,” Mark started.
Emily shrugged. Inside, her thoughts were racing and her heart was beating like a drum. What if he didn’t really like Sam?
“He was genuinely concerned about you when you reacted to your mother’s news.”
Emily replayed the scene in her mind. Why had she let him hold her? Hopefully her father didn’t get any wrong impressions because of that.
“He listened very well to what you had to say, from what I heard.”
Emily’s head snapped to look at her father. He did have the wrong impression.
“He’s a great friend,” she put in. She stressed the word friend. She hoped that would put a stop to that line of thinking.
“I like him, Emily,” he finally summed it up. He handed her the last dish. “And I approve,” he whispered.
She held back a nervous laugh. “Approve? What is there to approve of?” She concentrated on the plate and tried not to look at her father.
“You know good and well what I meant.” He still had the I’m-in-charge voice down pat.
Emily glanced up and saw him smiling mischievously at her. She smiled back, saying what she felt without actually saying it. She wasn’t really sure what she felt, but she knew she didn’t like it.
Mark
crossed to the fridge and pulled a box of chocolates off the top. “More dessert?” he asked.
Emily, full though she was, agreed wholeheartedly. She and her father curled up on the couch, the box between them.
“Is that all the friends you have?” he asked.
“No,” Emily replied. She wrinkled her nose as she bit into a chocolate. “Cherry.” She handed it to her father and he downed it.
“So where were the others?” He asked.
“The others live in various other states, have families, and are on call to their respective forensic academies.”
“School buddies,” her father guessed.
“Bingo. I don’t really talk to most of them anymore. They’re all doing their own things.”
He smiled. “What about in town? Do you have any more friends in town?”
She thought a minute. Did she? Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. Nate’s sister Valerie, but she’s on the move a lot. There’s also his brother Quinn, but he kind of dropped off the face of the earth. Nate hasn’t heard from him in months. Plus there’s Jewel’s family. They’re great.” She stopped.
“What?” Mark asked, allowing her to assume what he meant by that.
“I just find it a little weird that I haven’t ever met Sam’s family. I’ve known him longer than Nate or Jewel, but we haven’t even talked about his family. It’s just awkward.”
“You’ll get to it,” Mark assured her. “It just takes time. Did you ever think that maybe his home life was pretty bad, like yours?”
She shook her head. She had never thought to ask. She had been so selfish all these years, focusing on what was wrong in her own life. She had never asked about anyone else’s. Sam’s life could have been worse than hers, but still he took the time to just sit and listen. He was such a better person than she was. She didn’t deserve his friendship.
“Why do you think we’ve never talked about it?” she asked. It was odd. He knew about her family, but she had no idea about his.
“Maybe he’s just not ready,” Mark suggested. “But he will be, Emily. Just open up to him a little more.”
She smiled knowingly and stood up from the couch. “I have to go to work tomorrow. I should go home and get some sleep.” She grabbed her jacket and kissed her father on the cheek. “I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you too, Emily. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
She nodded. “Probably.”
She practically ran to her car. If it really was a stalker this time, he could be watching from anywhere. She didn’t want to take the risk of getting caught in the dark.
She drove carefully home, watching to see if anyone was tailing her. So far, so good. As she raced to her door, she noted the package sitting in front of it. She snatched it and bolted her door behind her. She quickly ran through and checked all the windows and doors, making sure he wasn’t inside as she went. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe…for now.
She took the package to the island in her kitchen and pulled out a few gallon-size baggies. Then she pulled out a pair of sanitary gloves and some tweezers. She needed it all for evidence, but she wanted to know what he’d sent.
Slowly, using the tweezers, she unwrapped the paper. She placed that in one of the baggies. Then, very carefully, she lifted the lid off of the box. It also went into a sealed baggie. Her hands were shaking by the time she lifted the “gift” out of the box.
She wrapped the long silk scarf around her hand and picked up the picture that accompanied it. Two little blonde girls, both smiling, standing with their mother and father. She dropped it all into a baggie and sealed it before she slid off the gloves. She backed against the counter behind her and put a shaking hand to her mouth.
He knew. He knew everything. How had he found out? She had only told one person – Sam – of her past and yet this man knew.
She let the tears flow as she slid to the floor and sobbed her heart out. Something at the back of her mind told her to ask for help, but she ignored it.
She could handle this. She knew she could. If there was evidence to be found, she would be the one who found it. She would bring this man to justice, no one else.
She made herself move to the couch, but it took all the strength she had. She laid her head down and closed her eyes. Maybe in sleep, she would lose this nightmare.
She awoke to the sound of her annoying cell phone ring tone. She noted the sun streaming through the windows and glanced at a clock. Great. It was already eight o’clock. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, where she had set it the night before, and answered it.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked a few times.
“Em, did you just wake up?” Sam asked.
She weighed her options. Lying to him wasn’t going to be the smartest idea right now. On the other hand, she could exclude the fact that a stalker had left her a gift last night.
“Yep. Need something?” She sat all the way up and ran a hand through her tousled hair.
“Yeah. You. We found the latest victim.”
She was instantly alert. “Of the inter-state kidnapper?” She stood up and noted her wrinkled clothes. She needed to change. She headed to her room.
“Yeah. The MO is the same. I think you need to get down here.” He sighed. “How long will it take you?”
She threw open her closet and grabbed a pair of nice jeans and an emerald-colored shirt. She glanced at her watch.
“Somewhere between twenty minutes and a half hour. That is, depending on what side of town you’re on.” She slipped on her clothes as she spoke.
“I’ll text you the address. Hurry, ok?”
“Yep. Will do. See you in a little bit.”
She hung up and grabbed her brush from beside her bed. She raked it through her hair, wrestling it into submission. Why did her hair always choose days when she was in a hurry to be unruly?
She spent barely three minutes on her makeup and grabbed her phone to read the text Sam had sent her. Nice. She could be there in less then twenty minutes.
She quickly brushed her teeth and grabbed her coat. Her car took a minute to warm up, but when it did she careened out of her driveway and sped off.
She arrived at the address in nineteen minutes and thirty-two seconds. She knew because she timed herself.
Sam was waiting for her outside the door of the run-down apartment complex. He pushed himself off the wall and opened her door for her.
She smiled and grabbed her bag from the back seat. Maybe she could trust him, just a little.
“Details?” she asked, stopping to straighten her clothes and pull her hair back.
Sam sighed. “I will warn you, it’s a little messy. This one’s throat was slit. Looks like she fought back.”
Emily nodded, glad he had warned her. She hated working cases where children were the victims. It took some sort of pervert to even consider killing a child. This man had her attention, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
Sam walked with her through the building. “Looks like they hid out here for awhile. There are a lot of canned goods in the trash and a ton of dishes in the sink. Before you ask, I sent everything on ahead to the lab. Doesn’t look like he stayed here with her. The lock is from the outside of the door, there’s only one cot made up. The manager says he didn’t even know the apartment was inhabited. And, since he deals with at least four fights a day, he didn’t think anything of it when someone reported screaming on that floor.” He motioned to a door. 416. He showed his credentials to a policeman and escorted Emily through the door.
She reacted to the smell. Her hand came up to cover her mouth and she nearly gagged. It was horrible. Worse than most cases she worked on. Of course, most of the cases she worked on involved adults, not children. The fact that this was a child made it ten times worse.
“How long has she been dead?” She asked, glancing briefly at the slowly decaying body of the blonde eleven-year-old.
Sam shr
ugged. “The M.E. isn’t here yet. Wanna take a guess?”
She forced herself to look briefly at the body. Flies swarmed around it, and she could see maggot eggs on the girl’s throat.
“Well, I’m no forensic pathologist, but I’d say she’s been here at least a few days.”
She moved past the body to the small bathroom. There was no toothbrush, no hairbrush, no personal hygiene items, nothing. She shook her head and went back out to the kitchen.
“Did you dust the cabinets for fingerprints?” she asked.
Sam shook his head. “Thought you might like to do that yourself.”
She smiled at him briefly. “Someone has to do it right.”
She slid on a pair of blue plastic gloves and pulled her fingerprinting tools out from her bag. Slowly, she began to dust the cabinet handles for prints. The dust settled on a few sets, but she somehow thought they were too small to be the killer’s. She kept them anyway.
Sam stayed silent through the whole process, but he never left the room.
Finally, when she had pulled the last print, she packed the things back in her bag and nearly ran out of the apartment. She hit the sidewalk at lightning speed and took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air.
Sam was right behind her. He gently laid his hand on her shoulder and she turned to face him.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
She nodded, still taking deep breaths.
“It smells to high heavens, doesn’t it?” he said with a mischievous smirk.
She laughed and rubbed at her nose. “Yeah. That is one way of putting it.”
He laughed with her. “You know, you didn’t have to come to the crime scene. It’s not in your job description.”
She glanced at him and scuffed her foot on the sidewalk. “I know, but…you asked and I came. That’s what friends do.”
She could feel his eyes on her. It hadn’t been that big of a deal. She had just said that they were friends. And they were. It wasn’t her fault that they didn’t have the best friendship. Ok, fine, maybe it was. After all, she had discouraged it for several years now. Maybe it was time to let the grudge die.
She patted his arm. “I’m going to go get started on the diagnostics. Be safe and don’t cause any more trouble, ok?”
Eminent Danger Page 6
