Sam shot him a glare and decided to ignore him.
“Have a date with your mother later?” Nate asked.
Sam looked up at him. “I am not in the mood to talk right now, Nate. Please don’t even try.” He went back to his work.
Nate was a great comic relief, but Sam wanted to be alone right now. He needed to be alone to think and to pray.
Emily had been at work all day and still had nothing. Why was her stalker so good at what he did? It was getting on her nerves.
She heard the door beep and turned to see who was entering her lab. It was Sam, and he looked seriously mad. She winced and went back to her work, ignoring him.
“Why did you do it?” he asked harshly.
She sucked in a deep breath and set her jaw. “Do what?”
“Go home without an escort.”
She sighed and spat angrily, “My mother was there.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What?” His eyes softened somewhat.
“My mother stayed the night. She’s contemplating accepting Jesus. We had a very productive talk, thank you.” she began to type furiously.
Sam put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” he said.
She slumped. She hated it when he acted like she was made of fine china. If he would stop doing that, she would be so grateful.
“I forgive you. Now let me go back to work.” She forcefully pried her arms out of his hands and took a deep breath.
“What’s really the matter?” he asked.
She continued to type, because it had a tendency to occupy her thoughts. “Lester’s dead,” she said solemnly.
Sam sighed. “You told your mother, and that’s why she was at your house. You were comforting her.”
Emily willed the knot at the base of her throat to dissipate, but it didn’t listen.
“She said she loved me.”
Sam smiled. “That’s good, right?”
Emily nodded. “I guess.”
“You guess? What are you guessing about?”
“Sam, my mother has never told me that she loves me. Ever. It’s a big step and I’m still processing it, ok?”
“Ok.” He kissed the side of her head. “Call me if you need something. Keep processing.” He exited.
Emily sank into her chair and rested her head on her arms. Why was this so exhausting? She should be relieved that one case was wrapped up so she could work on her own case. But she wasn’t. What was so disturbing about this case?
The door beeped again, and she turned to see Evan entering, sketch pad in hand.
“Can you scan this into your computer for me?” he asked.
She shrugged and extended a hand.
He handed her the sketch.
“This is the kidnapper?” she asked.
He nodded. “Rachel said that’s exactly how he looked.”
Emily couldn’t quite place it, but something about the man’s face looked familiar. He didn’t look sinister at all. He had an innocent, boy-like expression. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, and his hair was cut short. Something about him screamed familiarity, but Emily knew he was a complete stranger to her.
She pawned off the feeling to paranoia and scanned the picture into her computer, as Evan had asked. He left directly after. Evan never had been much of a talker. He was more of a doer.
She pulled up the picture on her computer screen and stared at it for a while. Why did it seem so familiar? It was like somewhere, deep in her memory, she had met him once. She e-mailed the picture to Sam and Nate, explaining who it was. She figured they had probably seen the unfinished sketch, anyway.
She sent Sam a text, telling him that she was headed home, and packed her things. It felt like that was all she did lately.
As she headed to the parking garage, her phone began to ring. It was Sam.
“What?” she asked.
“Who’s spending the night with you?” Sam asked.
Emily sighed and weighed her options. “My mom,” she lied.
“Ok. Just checking. See you tomorrow, ok?”
She smiled. At least the watchdog took her at her word.
“Yeah. Tomorrow. G’night, Sam.”
“Good night, Emily.” He hung up the phone.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she would have a night to herself. No more sleepovers, no more pit bulls. Figuratively speaking, of course.
As soon as she got home, she kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the couch. It felt good to be home alone, again. She would finally have some time to herself.
She hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep until she woke up. Still groggy, she glanced around. It was almost eight o’clock; maybe she should just go to bed. She turned off the living room lights and stomped her way down the hall. Suddenly, she heard a crash from the front of the house.
She glanced behind her and then, without thinking and with fear running rampant through her brain, she ran to her room and grabbed her cell phone. She needed help. And fast.
SEVENTEEN
Sam looked down at his suit and tie and smiled in frustration. Why did his mother have to like the opera? Personally, he could care less, but this was what his mother wanted. He would do this for her. And that was the only reason he was going.
He drove his car across town to his mother’s house and, with a deep breath, rang the doorbell.
She came to the door a few moments later in a deep purple evening gown.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
Sam smiled. “It’s good to see you smiling again. It looks like the real you.”
She laughed. “Matt asked if he and his girlfriend could join us this evening, do you mind?”
Sam shrugged. He really did like Matt, he just preferred not to be blindsided.
“Sure. You know, I really like him.”
Loretta grabbed her shawl and closed the door behind her. “He said he would just meet us there. Shall we?”
Sam offered his arm and escorted his mother to the car.
She sat down and proceeded to apply her lipstick.
“How is that Emily girl doing?” she asked.
Sam smiled. Oh, boy. At least she had picked a safe subject. Although he was pretty sure he was going to be pestered about it for the rest of the evening.
“She says she loves me.” He said. He was sure he looked like a schoolboy. This stupid grin wouldn’t come off his face.
Loretta smiled at him. “Well, I see she came to her senses. When do I get to meet her?”
“Soon,” Sam promised. “There are only so many hours in one day, and she works like I do.”
Loretta laughed. It was one of the most glorious sounds that Sam had heard in a long time.
They arrived at the opera house in plenty of time and got seats in the balcony. Somehow it felt like they were being treated like VIPs. As promised, Matt met them and sat in the box with them.
The opera in question was Carmen, and Sam decided it was ok for a foreign musical. Intermission was his favorite part.
“What do you think so far?” Loretta asked.
Sam refrained from making a face. “It’s tolerable,” he said. His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID.
“Excuse me, I have to take this,” he excused himself as Matt launched into some explanation of how great of a historical piece it was.
“Emily, what’s up?” he asked, stepping into the hallway.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said. She sounded frantic.
“Lied to me? When?” his heart rate increased after hearing the tone of her voice.
“You know when.” she cried.
“No, I don’t. Em, what’s going on?”
“Sam, he’s here,” she whispered. The fear behind her voice was so evident that it scared even Sam.
“Where? Em, where are you?” He was beginning to panic as well.
Her phone clicked off.
Sam hung up and tried her phone again. She d
idn’t answer. He then proceeded to dial Nate’s number.
“Yo, this is Nate,” he answered cheerily.
“Please tell me Emily is in her office.” He opened the door to the box and motioned to Matt, who immediately came out and closed the door behind him.
“No, Sam. She left nearly an hour ago. Went home. She texted you, remember?”
Sam rolled his lips together. “Call her mom, make sure she’s staying with her. I’ll hold.”
“Ok,” Nate said. He went silent.
Sam pressed the phone against his shoulder and addressed Matt. “Can you get mom home for me?”
“Sure,” he said dubiously. “Why?” the expression on his face reeked of curiosity.
“A good friend just called me. She may be in some trouble. Possibly a stalker.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “Whom do you work for again?”
“The FBI. So, will you take mom home for me? I don’t want her in harm’s way.”
Matt nodded, finally smiling at Sam. “Yeah. She’s in good hands. Go take care of the problem.”
Sam shook his hand. “I really appreciate this. I’ll call when it’s all over, ok?”
Matt nodded. “Sure thing. And if you need any assistance, don’t hesitate. My door’s always open.”
Sam nodded and put the phone back to his ear. “Nate, got anything yet?” he asked as he bolted out of the doors and into his car.
“Her mother is out of town at a business meeting. Sam, what’s going on?”
“Call 9-1-1, get me police and SWAT. I need several other agents and possibly a negotiator.”
“Sam?” Nate asked.
“It’s Emily. I think her stalker may have caught up with her.”
“I’m on it,” Nate assured. He hung up the phone.
Sam said a silent prayer as he flipped on his lights and ricocheted through town. Emily had to be safe, he kept telling himself. If she wasn't safe, then he knew his stress level would multiply hundreds of times over. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever.
His single car became part of an entourage as he pulled onto Emily’s street. He recognized several unmarked FBI vehicles, an SUV belonging to SWAT, a utility truck — also belonging to SWAT — and two local squad cars.
There was an extra car parked in Emily’s driveway as they pulled up, and he didn’t recognize it.
“No,” he screamed aloud. “No, no, no, no! This can not be happening!” He slammed his hand on his steering wheel and huffed loudly.
Emily screamed as the man grabbed her wrists and pulled her to her feet. He dragged her to the living room and set her on the couch. He had taken her phone and turned it off, smiling the whole time.
She took three seconds to really tell who it was and nearly groaned. He was fairly tall, with short hair and wire-rimmed glasses.
Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? The stalker and the serial killer were the same person. She wasn’t sure exactly why or how, but they were. She couldn’t really claim otherwise, since he was standing right in front of her with a grin on his face.
He grinned wider and knelt in front of her, taking one of her hands in his own.
“Aren’t you glad to see me, Emily?” he asked. “I mean, here I am. At last.”
She jerked her hand away and folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t going to say anything to this slime ball. First, he killed all those innocent little girls, and now he had the nerve to ask her if she was happy that he was there? That took guts. Or loads of stupidity. She wasn't sure which.
His grin faded. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
She glanced at him and rolled her eyes.
“Come on, you have to remember me. We grew up together, remember?” He prodded.
It was as if suppressed memories finally flooded into Emily’s mind. Christmas trees and lights. Trips across town. Games of hide-and-seek. The run-down duplex with the broken shutters finally made sense.
She clapped a hand over her mouth and squealed in surprise.
“You do remember!” he said, his smile returning. “See, it’s destiny that we end up together.”
Slowly, deliberately, she brought her hand down from her mouth. “You…you’re Troy. Troy Herman.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s me.” He stood to his feet and paced back and forth. “I’m so surprised. I mean, I didn’t think you would ever remember. We only met a few times. That was all before Lani died. I’m sorry about that.” He stopped speaking for a minute.
Emily couldn’t resist the urge to ask a question. She had always been that way, and it hurt her now. She didn't want to talk, she just couldn't help it.
“Why are you sorry?”
He looked at the floor. “Because I never asked dad to stop hitting her. He never hit you because I asked him not to, but I didn’t ask for her.”
Emily was speechless. Was that seriously why Lester had never touched her? Because of Troy, his estranged son? That made no sense! Lester never even let on that he liked the kid, let alone that he would do anything for him.
She heard sirens and gratefully glanced at her window. Sam had pulled through. He was here, and that made her feel ten times better. No less scared, but with a whole lot more hope for her future.
Troy glanced at the flashing blue and red lights through the window and sighed. “You called the police, Emily? Before we even had time to talk?”
It was all she could do not to nod profusely. Of course she had called the police. Who did he think he was? James Bond? He was the farthest thing from it.
She worried for a moment how this was going to go down. It may be over in a second, or it may take hours. It depended on their method of handling this. She prayed they would choose wisely.
Sam drummed his fingers on the side of his car and loosened the bow-tie at his neck. He was going to have to get out of this suit if he was going to work proficiently tonight. And Nate was going to have to show up. He hoped Nate came soon.
SWAT had opened their truck and were setting up phone lines and computers. Hopefully their negotiator would show up.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Nate pulled up and hopped out of his car. He was comfortably dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a warm jacket. Sam envied him his comfort.
“You don’t look so good,” Nate said, eyeing Sam’s suit. “Which is why I brought you a bag. It’s in the back of my car.”
Sam smiled and dug around in the back of Nate’s car until he found the duffel. He glanced at the shirt, jeans, and fur-lined leather jacket, and raced to the SWAT team’s SUV.
“Hey, can I use the car to change?” he asked the man behind the wheel.
The guy jumped out and nodded to the car. “She’s all yours.” He walked a few steps away.
It was the fastest that Sam had ever changed clothes in his life. He met Nate back at his vehicle and handed him back the duffel bag.
“Oh, gee, thanks pal,” Nate said sarcastically. “I really wanted your duffel back.” He pushed it back to Sam. “I got it from your house. I still have a key, remember?”
Sam nodded and grabbed the bag. He threw it into Nate’s car. At this point he didn't care if Nate had a key or not. He should have recognized the duffel the minute he saw it. His mind was leaping around so fantastically that he couldn’t even ID his own duffel. This was not good. Somehow, he had to get Emily out of there, and being frantic wasn’t going to help that ultimatum.
“Who’s in charge of this situation?” he asked.
Nate chortled. “Not you. You’re too personally involved. There is no way that SWAT or the FBI is going to let you have lead on this one, buddy.”
“Then who has lead?” Sam asked. Why did Nate have to be so confusing at a time like this?
He smiled and scuffed his toe on the ground. “Um…I do. As an FBI agent, I have superiority over the local law enforcement, and since you are in no condition to handle this, I have seniority over you for a change.”
Sam groaned. He should have seen that
coming. Nate was like that. One minute you’re in control, the next Nate has the whole situation. Thankfully, Sam realized, he trusted Nate to get Emily out safely.
It was then that Sam noticed Nate had walked away. He quickly glanced around and spotted him with the SWAT commander. He headed that way.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” the commander asked. “Because we can go in guns blazing, and have her out in no time.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “Who has seniority here?”
The SWAT leader sighed. “You.”
“So, who calls all the shots?”
“You.”
“Very good. And I said I want a fiber-optic camera in there pronto! I need to know who this guy is before I know how to proceed. Now get on it!”
The commander turned on his heel and stalked away.
Sam watched Nate as he straightened up and took a deep breath. Being in charge came easily for Nate, but it was hard for him to be mean. However, he could usually be very persuasive. Sam was thankful for that now. If anyone could get Emily out of this situation, Nate could.
“Agent Wesley?” came a shout from across the yard.
Nate turned to see who it was.
Sam turned, too. The person yelling was one of the SWAT members. They looked almost relieved.
“The negotiator’s here.”
Nate gave a half-smile to Sam and raced across the lawn. Sam was right on his heels.
“Nate, what can I do to help?” he asked.
Nate glanced at him. “Coordinate with the SWAT team. Make sure they’re not going rogue and give some advice if need be. When you’re done, you can go to the truck and sit with the negotiator.”
Sam smiled, relieved to have something to do. He tried to reconfigure his mindset and focus on the job at hand, but it was hard. Especially knowing that Emily was in there with her stalker. The creep. He should have found him. That stupid stalker should have been behind bars by now. Emily should have been safe. It was all his fault that it had come to this. If he had checked up on her story earlier, he would have known that she was lying. But he had listened to her. He had thought that she would actually keep a watchman with her. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.
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