“Did you find her?” his mother asked, picking up immediately.
Sam sighed. “Hello to you too.”
“Yes. Hello. I’m sorry. Did you find her?” She repeated.
“Yeah. Come on down and we’ll load you into one of our cars.”
“No need. I’m here. I’ve been talking with this lovely young man on the SWAT team. Evidently he’s a good friend of my second boyfriend’s first wife. What a coincidence.”
Sam nearly gagged. He did not need to know about his mother’s dating status. “Where are you, mom? I’ll come find you.”
“I am only about two feet away from your partner, Nate.”
“Ok. Have him bring you back here. Got it?”
“Of course. I’m not stupid. In fact, I am your mother, and I feel I should be spoken to with the utmost respect.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam mumbled. He hung up the phone and noticed Marshall staring at him. “What?” he asked.
Jasmine cleared her throat. “Marshall, don’t stare. You love your mother, too. He has the right to answer her that way. Marshall, cut it out.” Her voice became firmer the longer she talked.
Finally, Marshall rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer screen.
“Marshall Torrey, you apologize to Sam this instant,” Jasmine commanded.
Marshall gave her a weird look, but turned to Sam nonetheless. “Sorry. I just don’t feel that a grown man should…behave like that. Especially in front of his coworkers.”
Jasmine punched him in the arm.
Sam had to giggle. They were something, alright. Of course, he would listen to Jasmine too, especially since he knew what the girl could do with a knife. He shivered just thinking about it.
“It’s ok, Jasmine,” he said soothingly. “I know what he meant. No harm. No foul.”
She shrugged and swiveled her chair to stand up. “If you say so.” She threw Marshall one more glance before tossing on her jacket and stepping out of the van.
“I have the location,” Marshall said suddenly, interrupting any and all thoughts that Sam might have wanted to vocalize.
“Where?” asked Sam, diving into his coat as well.
“In a very wooded area. By a lake. With hills. I’ll print the map.” He clicked a few more times and the portable printer whirred to life.
Sam stepped into the cool night air and breathed a sigh of relief. At least he knew where she was.
Jesus, he prayed, thank you so much for keeping her safe. Hold her in Your hands until we get there, Father. Please. I can’t lose her.
Emily could barely believe what she was seeing. Troy was Bruce, and Bruce was Troy, only when Troy was Bruce he was like a completely different person. She wasn’t a psychiatrist, but she was pretty sure she could diagnose this as split personality disorder.
“You know, I was a little uncertain about Troy’s infatuation with you,” he said with a smirk, “but I can see why now. I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous. Besides, you have brains. Not many people can figure out that I exist in as short a time as you did. I must hand it to you. I definitely underestimated you.”
Emily was starting to see pieces of the puzzle fall into place. “You killed all those girls, not Troy. He’s too nice.”
Troy — or Bruce, or whoever he was — chuckled. He bobbed a finger at her. “You are a smart cookie. Sure I killed them. Troy is a softy. All he wanted to do was speak with them. His schizophrenic mind convinced him that they knew where you were. I knew better.”
“Why kill them?” Emily asked, being careful as to her wording. This guy was deadly, and she didn’t want to push too many buttons.
“I was protecting him. Troy thought that he could just let them go back to their families and they wouldn’t say anything. I wasn’t about to get arrested for something that was his idea. Besides, you work for the FBI. Being the smart one, I knew a string of dead bodies would lead us right to you. FBI’s jurisdiction covers serial killers. I’m just mad that I had to become one on your part.”
She recoiled. Obviously, Bruce didn’t like her as much as Troy did. That was a little frightening. He may be inclined to hurt her more than Troy would have been.
“And Lester?”
He gritted his teeth. “An unfortunate casualty. Troy went there to confront him about Lani’s death. When Lester hit him, he…introverted. That caused me to come out. I lashed out at Lester and the next thing I know, he’s dead on the floor. Guess I’m more dangerous than even I thought.”
“The resuscitation was Troy?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yep. That’s him alright.”
“So, is Melanie dead, too?”
He shook his head. “I hadn’t had a chance to force my way to the surface to kill her. And I thought her name was Rachel.”
Emily shrugged, suddenly not scared anymore. “Troy got the wrong girl.”
Bruce laughed again. “He’s so incompetent. That’s why I’m here. To keep him from making stupid mistakes.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked quietly. She didn’t really care. She was capable of fighting him off. At least for a while. She just hoped he wasn’t as strong as he looked. That could present a large problem.
“Oh, we’ll let you stick around. At least for a while.” His posture changed, and Emily knew that Troy had returned.
“Did I pass out or something?” he asked.
“Troy, did you know that you have split personality disorder?” She asked.
He teared up a little. “Yeah. They’ve told me that. You spoke to him, didn’t you? My alter ego?”
She nodded. “He’s the killer, not you.”
Troy smiled a little. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“I asked Bruce that same question. At least I’m safe for a little while.”
“His name’s Bruce?” Troy asked. “Nobody ever told me that. He’s not very nice, is he?” he sounded like a lost child, and Emily wondered if that's really who Troy was. Just a sweet kid who had never really grown up.
She shook her head. “No. He’s not. Like I said, he kills people.”
Troy nodded. “The police are going to find me, aren’t they? And they’re going to take me to jail?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ll probably send you back to the asylum.”
He leaned back in his chair.
Emily almost felt sorry for him. She could only imagine what it would be like to share a brain with another person. It must be confusing. In his case, it was harmful. She almost wanted to cry for him.
Suddenly, in the distance, she heard sirens. Her heart leaped. That would be Sam and Nate, coming to rescue her. She breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Sam saw the cabin as they rounded the corner and slammed his fist into Nate’s arm. He regretted it immediately, but he wasn’t about to own up to that.
“Ow!” Nate cried, sending a scathing glance in Sam’s direction.
“Turn off the siren and stop the car,” Sam instructed.
Nate drove a few hundred more feet before doing as instructed. He slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a screeching halt. The caravan behind them followed suit. Nate hit the lock button and pulled the keys out of the ignition.
“Nate, what are you doing?” Sam nearly screamed.
“No one is getting out of this vehicle until you apologize for punching me.”
Sam pulled at the door handle, trying to get out. He couldn’t. “Ok. Fine. I’m sorry. Can we go save Em now?”
Nate shrugged and unlocked the doors. “Sure. Thanks for the apology.”
Sam rolled his eyes. He turned to the backseat and pointed a finger at his mother. “You go straight to the end of the caravan, get in the negotiations van and stay put until I come get you. Do you understand me?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded, sliding her door open and crouching down as she made her way to the back of the line.
“Got the megaphone?” Sam asked Nate. He checked the ammunition in his gun and cock
ed it.
Nate held up the megaphone in one hand and his gun in the other. “Got you covered.”
Carl, the SWAT leader, came up beside them carrying a shield. “What’s our game plan?” he asked.
Nate smiled. “Approach carefully and hope he brings her out unharmed.”
Carl rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan. But you have seniority.” He gave a weak smiled and motioned to his people, who also had shields.
They made their way closer to the house, until they were about a hundred feet from the front door.
Nate put the bullhorn to his mouth and pressed the talk button, making it squeal. “Troy Herman, this is Special Agent Wesley from the FBI. Come out with your hands up.” He lowered the megaphone.
The door slowly opened partway and a white handkerchief fluttered through the opening.
“Don’t shoot, guys!” Emily yelled.
Sam took a deep breath. She was ok. It would take all his willpower not to shoot, but he wouldn’t do it. He would remain calm.
Emily walked onto the small porch, as did Troy. He stood a few feet away from her with his hands timidly raised into the air.
Emily stepped toward him and held up a hand to tell them that it was ok.
Sam let his jaw drop open. He had no idea what she was about to do, but he could bet that it wasn’t going to be good. He grimaced in anticipation.
“I hope you rot in jail,” Emily threw at Troy loudly.
Sam was thoroughly confused. What was the girl doing?
Suddenly, Troy had his arm around her throat and a gun pointed at her head.
Every gun on the lawn raised an inch or two. A suspect with a gun was always a reason to be jumpy.
Emily smiled. She pulled his arm a little bit away from her face.
“Guys, I would like you to meet Bruce,” she announced.
Troy looked down at her. “You are evil,” he said with a glare.
Sam smirked. Only Emily would make that connection. Of course Bruce was Troy’s second personality. Only now Emily had put herself in a horrible situation. There was no way they could get to Troy, or Bruce, until he let go of Emily. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. It was a classic catch-twenty-two.
“I’m leaving and taking her with me,” Troy yelled.
“Not even over my dead body,” Sam yelled back. He saw Emily raise a knowing eyebrow and roll her eyes. She was handling this well. Or so it seemed.
“It’s not your dead body that you’ll have to deal with. It’s hers.” He smirked.
Sam caught a glimpse of Nate climbing onto the porch beside Troy. He held his gun at the ready and pointed it at Troy’s head.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” he said low and slow.
Troy gave a slight smile and released Emily, putting his hands up in the air and allowing Nate to disarm him. Suddenly, his posture changed and Bruce was gone.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Troy yelled, hunching over into a defensive position.
Nate threw Sam a glance and cuffed Troy.
Sam tried to take in everything that had just happened. Dual personalities were so confusing. He could barely tell which person Troy really was. And he couldn’t tell what the trigger was to pull one or the other out. Emily, however, seemed to have it down pat.
Speaking of Emily…
He scanned the chaos on the porch and saw her hovering in the corner. She looked cold and scared.
He made his way over to her and shrugged off his coat. “Here,” he said, laying it over her shoulders.
For the first time he noticed her bare feet. He hadn’t thought about it, but she had been dragged out of her house without a chance to put on any protective clothing.
“Thanks,” Emily responded weakly, pulling the long coat around her and hugging it tightly.
“Are you ok?” He asked her.
“Yes,” she said. Then she looked up at him.
He gave her a questioning glance. “Really?”
She paused for a moment and then shook her head negatively. The tears began to accumulate in her eyes. Obviously the adrenaline rush was wearing off.
He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
She burrowed her pretty blonde head into his shoulder and let the tears flow.
Sam knew the tears were partly from delayed fear and partly from post-traumatic stress. Being kidnapped by an identity-challenged man would do that to you.
“Don’t take me home, Sam,” she begged once she stopped crying. By then, the chaos had cleared.
“I don’t plan on it,” Sam whispered. “You’re coming back to the FBI building with me. I’m not letting you out of the sight of the agents.”
She sat up and smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
Nate came running over and knelt in front of them. “Is she ok?” He asked.
Sam nodded.
“Thanks a lot, Emily,” Nate said sarcastically. “You made my fiancée get super mad at me. Evidently girls sticking together are more important than an FBI agent doing his job.”
Emily smiled. “Sorry.”
Nate smiled back and patted her arm. “No problem. I’d stick up for you any time.” He stood up and walked away.
“So, my mom wants to meet you,” Sam said.
Emily’s eyes widened. “Now? Here? Like this?” She fingered her wild hair.
He nodded. “She figured you would need a mother figure to cling to for at least twenty minutes. Up for it?”
She nodded. “Ok. Let’s go.” She stood to her feet, obviously expecting him to allow her to walk to the car.
Sam jumped up next to her and swept her into his arms.
“What are you doing, Sam?” she asked.
“There is no way I’m letting you walk over frozen ground with bare feet.” He tucked the long coat around her feet and headed down the stairs.
By the time he reached Nate’s car, his mother was in the backseat. He opened the back door and gently set Emily on the seat.
“Mom, Emily. Emily, mom,” he made quick introductions.
“Call me Loretta,” his mother insisted.
Emily smiled and looked down at her feet self-consciously.
Loretta opened her arms and Emily slid over to let her wrap them around her. She tucked her feet up under her and leaned her head down on Loretta’s shoulder.
Sam smiled. They would get along just fine. Loretta loved to mother people, and Emily needed a good mother example. He was happy that they had finally made some progress.
TWENTY-ONE
Emily sat on the chair behind the one-way glass and tapped her fingers on the arm in annoyance. They had been at this for three hours and still hadn’t been able to pull Bruce back out. Troy said he knew about Bruce, but he couldn’t control when he came and went. On top of that, Troy still couldn’t remember where Melanie was. They needed Bruce to come back.
Finally, as the wait neared four hours, Emily could take it no longer. “That’s it,” she said in frustration, throwing her hand in the air.
Nate, who was also in the observation room, turned to her as she stood up and headed for the door. “What’s 'it'?” he asked.
“Bruce won’t come forward because he thinks he’ll go to prison, not an insane asylum. I’m going in there to bring him out.”
Nate started toward her, but she slammed the door in his face. She opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped in.
Sam, who was currently questioning Troy, looked at her with concern.
“Can I have a minute with Troy?” she asked as sweetly as she could muster at the moment.
Sam glanced at her, and then back at Troy. “Alright.” He stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.
Emily waited a moment, watching the mirror. Then she walked to the table and laid her hands on it.
“Troy, you let Bruce talk to me this instant,” she said menacingly.
“I can’t. I told you, I have no control over when he appears.” He looked ge
nuine enough.
“Then drastic measures are needed,” Emily mumbled. She lunged for his throat and he grabbed her wrists, pushing them back.
“Stop it,” he roared.
She placed her palms back on the table. “I told you that you would rot if you didn’t give them what they wanted. Why are you being so difficult?”
He stood to his feet and planted his palms on the table as well. “I should kill you right now.”
She tried not to smile. “Go ahead. I have three FBI agents in that room,” she pointed to the mirror, “that would kill for me in a second. They’re just waiting for you to give them a chance to rush in here.”
“You are so persistent,” he growled.
“I’m evil, remember?” she threw back. Their voices were growing louder.
“What’s in it for me if I tell you where the girl is?”
“If you tell us where Melanie is and we find her alive,” she stressed the word through gritted teeth, “then I can assure you that you will not go to prison. You will simply go back to that hole in the wall that you crawled out of.”
He sank into a chair and propped his arm on the back. With a grimace and a scowl, he opened his mouth to speak. “She’s in my apartment. Good luck finding it.”
Emily stalked out the door and slammed it behind her.
Sam met her in the hall. “What was that about? Are you ok?”
She caught her breath and smiled. “Are you serious? That was the most fun I’ve had in my life! I can’t believe you don’t like interrogations.”
Sam smiled back at her and shook his head. “You are such a thrill seeker. Haven’t you had enough for one night? I mean, it’s nearly three AM.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I am a little tired, but finding Melanie takes first priority. I’ll sleep when this is over.”
Sam grabbed her elbow and started down the hallway. “No. You’ll sleep now. We have him in custody, he can’t get to her. She’ll be safe for one more night.”
“It’s not a matter of her being safe, Sam,” Emily said, pulling away. “It’s a matter of her being afraid. Do you know what it’s like to not know when someone will come for you? To think that you’re going to starve before daylight? It’s not a fun feeling. I have to find her.”
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