Rosie nodded and headed back inside.
Emily breathed deeply and walked back to Sam. This would be the awkward part of the day.
He stood straighter and looked down at her quizzically.
“You remember Rosie, right?” she asked, trying to lighten Sam’s mood.
He gave a single nod.
“She’s going to stay the night with me. You know, just to make me feel safer.”
“She’s going to protect you?” He asked skeptically.
Emily knew it sounded ludicrous, but it was true. Rosie might be small, but she packed a punch. However, there just wasn’t any way to tell Sam that.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she said. “He hasn’t even left a package in the last two days. Maybe he’s given up.”
Sam snorted his disapproval, but unfolded his arms.
“Alright,” he agreed, “but call if anything comes up, ok?” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
Emily smiled and went inside, placing a hand to her cheek as she did. It felt so good to have someone that really cared about her. God had really known all along just what she needed. And Sam was definitely it. It was amazing how quickly things fell back into place when she decided to give her life back over to her Savior.
“Since when did you two become a couple?” Rosie asked from the kitchen.
Emily rolled her eyes and groaned. “Rose, were you watching out the window again?”
She came around the corner with a sandwich in her mouth.
“Of course. I have to watch out for you, you know. What if Sam was your stalker?”
Emily laughed disbelievingly. “You and I both know that Sam is not the stalker type. Besides, he works for the FBI. He would not stalk someone.”
“Good to know. Either way, he is definitely in love with you.” She flopped down on the couch. Obviously, Rosie knew just how to make herself at home in Emily's house.
“I know. He said so himself. How could you tell?”
It was Rosie’s turn to roll her eyes. “His stature, his eyes, his obvious protectiveness of you.”
Emily sank down beside her. “What do you think of him?”
She sat up straight. “Seriously? He’s perfect for you! I say go with it. Now, what’s this about a stalker?”
“I mentioned that, huh?” Emily asked. She really hadn’t wanted to go into detail with Rosie, but it seemed like it must be done.
“Well, he hasn’t left anything for a few days, so I thought maybe he’s over me,” Emily knew her voice sounded almost too hopeful.
“Stalkers do not just ‘get over’ people. The whole point of a stalker is that they’re obsessed. He probably has been for a long time. Ooh! Maybe you dated him.”
Emily shook her head. “No, I already checked off that entire list. I have no idea who this is. Whatever.”
Rosie just nodded.
Emily’s senses were immediately on high alert. Rosie always talked Emily’s ear off. When she was silent, it meant something big was going on.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
Rosie breathed deeply. “I was just thinking of daddy.”
Emily nodded. “That’s not really it, is it?”
Rosie shook her head. “I have to tell you, Emily. I am leaving town tomorrow. I’m going to Canada. Sounds fun, right?”
“Yes,” Emily drew the word out. “But?”
“You’re going to hate me for this. Because of your Christian morals. I’m going with my boyfriend, who’s moving there for a year.”
Emily closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself to not condemn other people.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” she said simply.
Rosie nodded. “Yeah, he works for the government.”
Emily almost smiled. Her boyfriend worked for the government, too. How ironic.
“What does he do?” she asked. Not that a background check wouldn't reveal something, but it was always easier to get it straight from the horse's mouth.
Rosie smiled. “You know the classified files that have the black marks?”
She nodded. Of course. She read them regularly. What a stupid question.
“He marks those words out. He deals with classified information every day. That’s why he’s going to Canada. So he can do his work in private. He asked me to go and I said yes. Then I thought about all the things you have tried to teach me.”
Emily remained quiet. “Like?” she asked.
“Every rule I’ve broken. Get saved, save yourself for marriage, don’t envy, don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t cheat, et cetera.” She shrugged.
Emily wanted to cry. She had tried to teach her all those things, but Rosie hadn’t listened. It was just because she was strong-willed like that.
“Rosie,” Emily started, trying not to cry, “I did try to teach you those things. But just because you didn’t listen, doesn’t mean I hate you. I love you like my sister and I always will.”
Rosie swiped at a tear on her cheek. “But I let you down. I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.”
“Rosie, you could have, you just chose not to. And that’s ok. You don’t have to be who I want you to be. You have to be who you are. I’m not going to hate you for choosing the path you thought was best. That’s not my jurisdiction.”
Rosie flung her arms around Emily’s neck.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
Emily smiled. “You’re welcome.” She wiped the tears away. “How about a movie?” she asked.
Rosie agreed liberally.
Sam looked at his computer screen in frustration. Why couldn’t he find this guy? The sooner they got Emily’s stalker off the streets, the better. But all the blood samples from the crime scenes had come up the same. No match.
This was so, so frustrating! He wanted so much to protect her, but he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know what the threat was. He wasn’t sure he trusted Rosie, the petite brunette, to do anything other than scream “mommy” and go running out the door. She didn’t look like she could break a toothpick.
Ok, so maybe he was being judgmental. Things weren’t always what they seemed. People weren’t always what they seemed. He was sure that Rosie was completely competent. Maybe a bit frail, but competent.
He turned his weary eyes back to his computer screen. His entire body screamed at him to go to bed, but he couldn’t. Not until he had made some progress on Emily’s stalker.
This guy was really hard to find. He was great at not leaving any evidence, and he was clearly a sick-minded psycho. He knew about Emily’s past and he wanted to be part of her future. If this guy really cared for Emily, he sure had a strange way of showing it.
Finally, as it neared one AM, Sam turned off the computer and crashed on the couch.
THIRTEEN
Morning came much sooner than Sam would have liked. His head hurt and he seriously considered taking the day off, but he wouldn’t let himself until the case was wrapped up. No one else deserved to die. Especially not an innocent little girl.
He forced himself to get ready and head to the office, stopping only to get a triple espresso at his favorite coffee shop. He would need it for today. He had a lot of work ahead of him.
He walked into the office to an overly cheery atmosphere.
Nate was all smiles. Frederico Probo and Eddie Hutton were standing by his desk. They, too, were all smiles.
“Did I miss something?” Sam asked, sitting down at his desk.
“No, of course not,” Nate said, still with a smile.
Sam look from Nate to Fred to Eddie and back to Nate. He had a strange feeling that they were up to something. Agent Probo and Agent Hutton didn’t show up to talk too often.
“Why are they here?” Sam asked. He was beginning to panic, thinking something was wrong.
Nate caught on. “Sam, first of all, cool it. The paranoia is trying to return. Nothing is wrong.”
Sam took a deep breath and took a long sip of his espresso. Trying to
figure out what Nate was up to was like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube puzzle. Nearly impossible and always unfruitful.
“Second of all,” Nate continued, “they are here strictly on business.”
Sam furrowed his brow. “Really?”
Nate nodded. “Really. Fred and Eddie are working on Lester’s case. They think we have a lead for them. How funny, right? Right?” his face fell. “Why aren’t you laughing?”
Sam smiled. “Because it’s true. We do have a lead for them.”
It was Nate’s turn to furrow his brow. “Really?”
“Really,” Sam said with a laugh. He grabbed a sheet of paper and walked it to Nate. “I forwarded this email to them the other day. It was Emily’s biggest breakthrough of the day, and she asked me to find out who was working Lester’s case. Turns out, it was our buddies.”
Nate took a full five minutes to read through the email. Finally, he dropped it and smiled again.
“That sounds fun. Tell me when you find him, ok?”
Fred nodded and headed for the door. “Will do. See you around, guys.”
Sam returned to his desk and opened his email. There had to be something he could do to figure out who the killer was.
Sure enough, there was an email from another department. He opened it. Reading thoroughly, he frowned and grabbed his gun and badge.
Nate watched him and followed suit.
“What’s up, Sam?” he asked.
Sam opened the attached file and printed the photo and information.
“Sam?” Nate asked.
Sam finally looked up and noticed his partner trying to get his attention. He shook his head to clear his brain and picked up the photo to show to Nate.
“There’s another missing girl. She’s from in town and – amazingly – the only abducted child who fits the MO in the entire USA right now.”
Nate grinned. “Sounds promising. What’s her name?”
“Melanie Bosch. Maybe we can catch him before he kills again. I think it’s time to talk to her parents.”
Nate was on Sam’s heels the entire way to the car. Once inside, he looked over and sighed.
“Sam, are you sure you’re ok?”
Sam nodded. He didn’t want to talk about anything right now. Especially since he wasn’t sure if he was alright himself. Nate didn’t need to know how on edge his partner was. That would just frustrate him more. Besides, Nate should be celebrating. He had just gotten engaged, after all. Sam decided to keep his dread to himself.
“Let me rephrase that,” Nate said hurriedly. “Sam, I know you’re not ok, so do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Sam said simply.
“Yeah, I kind of figured that.” He scratched his ear and glanced around his hand at Sam.
Sam recognized his covert attempt at trying to pry information out. No way. This time Nate was not going to get away with it.
“Nate, I’m not talking, no matter what you do or say. Let it go!” Sam demanded.
Nate threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine! Touch-y.” He rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.
Sam took a deep breath. He shouldn’t have exploded on his partner like that. Nate had feelings, too. He took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry I yelled, Nate,” he said.
Nate nodded and continued playing with his phone.
Sam began to get curious. “Nate, what are you doing?”
“Reading the dictionary. Not that you care,” he mumbled. He kept a pout on his face as if he were a three-year-old child. It was actually kind of comical.
Sam sighed. He had really done it this time. Nate was really mad at him. He wondered what he could do to calm him down.
“Look, I’ll clue you in on my thought process after we talk to this girl’s parents, ok?”
Nate glanced up. “Really? You’d do that?”
Sam nodded. Nate was too easy to please. “I’d do that,” he assured him.
“Ok. Are we almost there?” Nate put his phone away and started to drum his fingers on the door.
“Just around the corner,” Sam comforted him.
He pulled into the family’s beautiful driveway and put the car in park. The house was amazing. It was a two-story brick dwelling with crème colored shutters. The front porch wrapped almost all the way around the house and two French doors led into what Sam assumed was the front foyer.
“Whoa,” Nate said, open-mouthed.
Sam sighed. “We have a job to do, Nate. You know how to be sympathetic, right?”
Nate shrugged. “So I’m told. I’m just doing what comes naturally.” He started to hum.
Sam gave him a worried glance and exited the vehicle. Together, he and Nate sauntered to the front door. Sam rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the door was flung open.
A beautiful, dark-haired woman stood there, bags under her red eyes.
Sam flashed his badge. “Ma’am, I’m agent Sam Kent and this is agent Nate Wesley from the FBI. May we speak with you for a few moments?”
She nodded and motioned them inside.
“You’re Mrs. Bosch?” Sam asked.
She tried to smile. “Yes. My husband will be down in a minute. He’s putting Joel down for a nap.”
“Who’s Joel?” Nate asked.
She led them into the living room and motioned to the couch. “Joel is our two-year-old son. He simply adores Mel. He doesn’t understand why she isn’t here with him. It’s usually Melanie’s job to put him down.” She swallowed and sat pristinely in a chair.
A man came through the door and sat next to Mrs. Bosch, putting his hand on hers. He had dark eyes and black hair, with a small goatee on his chin.
“If you don’t mind,” Sam said as nicely as he could, “I would like you to tell me exactly what happened when she disappeared.”
Mrs. Bosch put a hand to her mouth and looked to her husband. He nodded and sighed.
“Melanie was riding her bike home from a friend’s house,” he said.
“When was this?” asked Nate, who was taking notes.
“Saturday,” he said. “She called when she left from her friend’s house, but she never made it home. It was supposed to be a ten-minute bike ride. Somewhere between the two houses, she disappeared. We found her bike just down the road.” He swallowed the tears.
Sam took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe what it was like to lose a child. Something deep inside of him screamed that he needed to find this girl.
“What was this friend’s name?” Nate asked.
“It was Rachel Kennedy, she’s Melanie’s best friend.” Mrs. Bosch breathed deeply and swallowed again, obviously trying to hold back more tears, even as they flowed forth.
Sam noted the woman's obvious pain. “If I may ask, where did she get her blonde hair?” he produced the picture.
Mrs. Bosch smiled and took the picture in her hand. “My grandmother had blonde hair. We think it was a recessive gene. I’ve always loved her hair. You have to find her, agent Kent. I need her back.”
Sam nodded. He would find Melanie. By God’s grace, he would find her.
FOURTEEN
Emily couldn’t believe what she was seeing on her computer screen. Another girl had been kidnapped. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She should have caught this guy sooner. He should have been behind bars. And Melanie Bosch should have been safe. Instead, here she was investigating the girl’s kidnapping. It was ludicrous.
She was just about to chastise herself further when her office phone rang.
“This is Emily Baker,” she answered.
“Emily, this is agent Probo. I think I need you to meet me.”
She was immediately alert. Why was agent Probo requesting a meeting? She wasn’t working on anything for him. Was she? She quickly flipped through her files to make sure. Nope, nothing there.
“Ok,” she answered, intrigued. “Where at and what time?”
“As soon as you can. It’s a crime scene, just be aware.” He gav
e her the address.
She promised to get there soon and hung up the phone. Finishing up her project, she grabbed her keys and headed to her car. This could simply be routine. He could simply be calling her to get her advice on the scene. But somewhere deep in her bones, Emily knew that this was different.
She arrived at the address in record time and locked her door behind her. She gulped as she took in the run-down duplex in front of her. The shutters were drooped and decayed, and the windows were grimy and dirty. Yellow crime scene tape was extended around the perimeter of the house. Despite all that, it looked somewhat familiar.
A tall, dark-haired man came running from inside the house and slowed to a jog as he neared her.
“Emily Baker?” he asked.
She smiled as much as she could and shook his hand. “One and the same.”
“I think I should warn you before you enter. It isn’t pretty in there. If you need to leave and not look around, that’s ok.”
She momentarily wondered what he was warning her about, but she pushed it aside. Instead, she just nodded and followed him to the house. The sight there caused her to stop in her tracks.
About twenty people swarmed in the room, taking photos and dusting for prints. A body lay on the floor, its head twisted at an alarming angle and blood beginning to mat in its hair.
She peered closer and touched her fingers to her lips.
The body was familiar, a man with a stout figure and graying hair.
“It’s Lester, isn’t it?” she asked Agent Probo.
“Yes. It is.” He kept his hands clenched behind his back.
“I’m strangely not relieved,” she said, tears beginning to sting her eyes.
This wasn’t at all the end she had expected. It should seem fitting for him to be lying on the floor, dead from blunt force trauma. Instead, it hurt her heart. He obviously hadn’t had a chance to come to know his Heavenly Father. So, despite the irony of his death, it was tragic. He was burning in a lake of fire right now, and she could do nothing about it. Her mother would be devastated.
“Agent Probo?” she asked.
He looked up from the floor and gave her an “I’m listening” look.
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