“What’s that?” He points to the pregnancy test lying on my bedside table. His button had landed right next to it.
Here we go.
I take a deep breath. “It’s a pregnancy test.”
His eyes grow wide, and he starts approaching the test with the kind of trepidation you’d expect if it were a real live snake. His gaze is fixed on it, while I can’t tear my eyes away from his face, while I desperately try to get a handle on what he’s thinking and feeling.
“Is it—what are those—what do the lines mean?”
“It’s positive,” I say. My voice is barely above a whisper.
Peter rakes his fingers through his hair and blows out a long, heavy breath. “Wow,” he says, and hundreds of emotions play across his face at the same time.
“I know.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach out to take his hand. “Peter—”
He finally looks at me, and the moment his eyes meet mine, the mix of emotions gives way to the biggest smile.
And then he’s laughing. A loud, giddy laugh that rattles through me, shaking loose my own happiness which I had carefully kept caged up this whole time. I was waiting to see his reaction before I let myself feel anything, and now that it’s done, I’m overcome by wave after wave of total and utter joy.
Peter pulls me up and into his arms, lifting me off the floor as he spins me around. We’re spinning, and laughing, and everything inside our little bubble is perfect. He lets out this ear-splitting howl of celebration that makes me laugh even harder.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe this,” he says through his laughter, which is beginning to simmer down. “I can’t believe it!”
“So, you’re happy?” I ask as he sets me down. There’s no more spinning, but he’s still holding onto me.
“Of course I am. Aren’t you?” He strokes my cheek lovingly.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. I don’t have to answer that.
He knows.
Chapter Sixteen
Peter
My life is a whirlwind right now. Between the baby and the stalker case, I feel like I’m constantly torn in two. Everything feels like it’s happening at the same time and only some of it is in my control. That’s not the kind of thing I’m used to. A couple months ago, my life played out according to my say-so, down to the date and time.
Oh, but I wouldn’t change it. Not for the world.
We’ve finally decided to break the news to our parents. There couldn’t be a more perfect time. Emily was hesitant at first, but I told her that our baby was going to be the one to heal this family. I can feel it in my bones.
So that’s why, instead of accompanying Ross and the team to Stonybrook today, I’ll be joining Emily and her mother for lunch.
I don’t know which of the two events I’m more nervous about.
The mechanic that Ross spoke to said the car he enquired about, the Mazda, will be there for one more day getting repairs. Then the owner is due to pick it up. The plan is to get there before Trevor does and dust the car for prints. We’ll then have something to match against the partials we lifted from Emily’s old apartment.
I wish I could’ve been there for it. But, as important as it is that we catch this sicko, rebuilding our family at this crucial time is way more vital.
I check the clock on my office wall and it’s almost 12 p.m. Emily was supposed to have called me by 10:30 to give me the details of the lunch with her mother.
My foot begins to tap anxiously under my desk and my fingers provide their drumming accompaniment. It’s always like this. The minute I’m out of touch with Emily for whatever reason or if something doesn’t happen as planned, like this phone call, I’m instantly a ball of nerves.
I know she’s safe at the apartment. I have a patrol vehicle in the area 24/7, and two guys stationed in the apartment building at all times. But still.
I pick up my phone to call her when it suddenly starts ringing in my hand. I let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her picture brightening my screen and answer immediately.
“Hey, you, this isn’t 10:30.”
“Peter, he has my number,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
My blood runs cold.
“How did he get your number? When did he contact you? What did he say?”
“He’s been sending all these texts. He sounds crazy. Like clinically insane kind of crazy, Peter.” Even over the phone, I can tell she’s really shaken up.
“Emily, when?”
“A few minutes ago. It was a whole bunch of texts, one after the other. And then it just stopped.”
“Give me his number,” I say. With a phone number and time stamp, our tracing equipment might be able to place him in a general area. It’s a start, and it’s better than nothing. I know Emily must be creeped out, but getting this extra information about the stalker is good for the case.
“It won’t work,” she says. “After the texts stopped, I tried calling the number but it was dead.”
“Motherfucker.” I beat my fist on my desk, making the stationary rattle.
He must have destroyed the SIM card. It’s likely he has several more now that he’s gotten his filthy hands on Emily’s number. He’ll be virtually impossible to trace this way, but he already knows that. Damn, this guy is definitely smart enough for the messed up hobby he’s picked out.
I take a deep breath, massaging my temples, and then say, “So, what was he saying in the messages? Did he threaten you at all?”
She’s quiet for a moment. I can hear her breathing, and it’s almost like I can hear her thinking on the other end of the line. She’s considering whether to tell me something or not, I just know it.
“Emily, tell me.”
There’s a pause that seems to last forever.
Then she speaks, her voice filled with fear. “He was saying crazy things. That he’s the only one who should be with me. That he knows we’re meeting my mom today, and if you show up there, he—he’s going to hurt you.” Her voice trembles at the end, and I can tell she’s fighting back tears.
A heavy sigh escapes me. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.
“Peter, he said that he’s the only one I should be taking to meet her and that he’ll know if you’re there.”
Fuck.
I know Emily well enough to know exactly where she’s heading with this. But I’ll be damned if I let some psycho loser waltz in and destroy my family. That’s how I think of her now. And with the baby on the way, I have even more reason to fight for this new life of ours.
“Listen, Emily, this guy is clearly out of his mind.”
“I’m scared. What if—”
“No, don’t let him get to you. You have to think of the baby, okay? Let me worry about Trevor.”
For a moment I consider keeping quiet about the lead on the car, but then I remember the huge fight we had in that hotel room.
“Besides, there’s a good chance we’re picking him up today. We finally have a lead on what his location might be.”
“What?” She sounds hesitant to believe it. We’ve been trying to break this case for so long, I don’t blame her.
“Yeah, trust me on this. It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m canceling with Mom today. We can postpone until you have him in custody.”
“Emily, no,” I say, my tone taking on a stern edge I haven’t used with her before. “You said it yourself. You’re tired of having your life dictated by this maniac. We shouldn’t let him ruin this special time for us.”
“But, Peter—”
“You’ll be safe. I’ll be there and we’ll have Ted for backup. I don’t think he’ll show his face, though. He has other business to attend to in Stonybrook.”
“Stonybrook? What are you talking about?”
I smile to myself. Not even these stupid text messages can upset the day I’m having today. Everything is finally falling into place, and this guy is going to get what’s coming to
him.
“Nothing,” I say to her. “It’s handled, that’s all you need to know. Now, what have you decided about lunch?”
“Fine,” she says. She doesn’t sound too happy about my take on things, but at least she’s going along with it. “Mom’s meeting us at Coppersmith in thirty minutes.”
I scoff. “You’re taking your mother for a food truck lunch? Sweetie, we’re supposed to be easing her into this, not upsetting her even more.”
Emily laughs softly. The sound of it is empty, and I know it’s because of these texts. She’s still worried.
“She’ll be fine,” she says. “And if she isn’t, I know I’ll be fine as long as you’re there.”
“Damn straight. Okay, it’s already after twelve, so I’ll be a few minutes late. Traffic from here is always a pain. But save me a seat. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.” And then after a second’s pause, “Peter? Please be careful.”
“It’s going to take more than some crazy college kid to keep me from you, Emily. Now you and Ted better get going or you’ll be late, too. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Peter,” she says, and hangs up.
I can hear in the tone of her voice that she’s not convinced of anything I just said. But this is a line of thought I’m going to have to keep repeating until it sinks in with her. I’m not going to have my family living in fear, and I sure as hell am not going to let this guy jeopardize my future with her.
A few months ago, I don’t think I would’ve cared at all if I got taken out by a gunman or hit by a bus. There was nothing in my life worth preserving. All of that has changed now, and I’m ready to fight like hell to keep it that way. Whether it’s a psycho stalker or disapproving mother, I’m not going to lose what I have with Emily.
Chapter Seventeen
Emily
I’m riddled with nerves as I sit waiting for my mother. I’m nervous about what her reaction is going to be when I tell her about Peter, and then when she hears the news about the baby. But mostly I’m nervous, terrified in fact, about Peter and what the stalker said to me earlier.
He obviously didn’t identify himself in the texts, so there’s no way to know this really is Trevor we’re dealing with. I’m still going on nothing more than the fact that I think I recognized his voice that day when he called out to me on the street. But whoever it is, this person is an A-grade psycho.
The way he worded those text messages gave the distinct impression that he truly and honestly believes I belong to him. And before today, when it was just me he was threatening, it was bearable. I had Peter for support and his best guys working the case. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Peter, though. I would never forgive myself.
I just wish he didn’t have to be so stubborn about this. That he had agreed to miss lunch. I would have felt a lot better knowing that he was safe. I have Ted, who has become my trusted shadow whenever I step out of the apartment, so there’s that at least. But Peter refuses to have any kind of security detail. He says he can take care of himself, and I believed him up until now.
We don’t know what we’re up against with this stalker, and whatever Peter might think of his skills as a cop, there’s just too much at stake to go around playing hero. For one and most importantly, I don’t want my baby to have to grow up without a father. So much of my joy over this pregnancy is tied to the fact that I’m getting a chance to build a beautiful family. That family includes Peter.
“My God, Emily, you couldn’t find a spot in the gutter?”
My mother’s voice pulls me out of my head, and I look up to see her weaving through the tables as she approaches me. The look on her face almost makes this trip worth it. I knew it was a good idea to pick this place.
“Hi, Mom.” I stand up to kiss her cheek before she sits down opposite me. “You’ve never been here before? The atmosphere is great.”
She rolls her eyes emphatically. “If you like this sort of thing, I suppose.” She inhales deeply through her nose and then picks up the menu with a disgusted grimace. “Honestly,” she mutters to herself, “I don’t understand you kids sometimes.”
“The food here is great; just give it a chance, you’ll see.”
I pretend to be studying my own menu, but actually I’m peeking over the top of it and studying my mother. She is pulling all kinds of faces as her eyes scan the words in front of her.
Suddenly I get the feeling that Peter might have been right. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to upset her right before breaking the news.
My phone’s on the table and I tap the screen to bring it to life. The time I see there, emblazoned across the screen in huge numbers, makes my heart sink. It’s 1:15. Peter told me he’d be a few minutes late, but that was almost an hour ago.
I glance over my shoulder to where Ted is sitting hidden behind a newspaper. He’s been that way since we got here. As always, we stagger our arrival, with Ted going in first. Then I follow a minute after and make sure to find a seat within close proximity. I sigh and turn back around. If something had happened to Peter, Ted would be notified. So the fact that he hasn’t jumped into action is good news. This settles my nerves, but only a bit.
I’m fully aware that there’s still time for things to go horribly wrong.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
“Hmm?” I try to put on my best innocent confusion expression, but it doesn’t look like Mom’s buying it.
“Emily, I made that face,” she says. “I should know when something’s not right.”
Her intuition about me catches me off guard. So much of our relationship is spent in this constant push-and-pull that very little time is left to enjoy the finer side of our mother-daughter dynamic. As a result, I sometimes forget about it. Like now.
I tell myself that it’s a good thing, this perceptiveness of hers. It means that there’s still a concerned, caring mother in there somewhere. Behind all of that controlling and judgemental behaviour, of course. And if that’s true, then maybe this lunch won’t go over too badly.
“I have something to tell you,” I say, not wasting any time.
My mother appreciates that. She was never one for beating around the bush. And since waiting for Peter isn’t an option, I feel like I should just rip off the bandage and get it over with. He can help me pick up the pieces, if there are any left, when he finally gets here.
“I hope it’s that you’ve come to your senses about this whole ‘needing time off from school’ thing and that you’re going back.”
“No, I’m still—it’s not about school.”
Now I feel bad about the cover story I gave her for why I wasn’t going to classes. Peter felt it best to keep her in the dark about the stalker; same with Heather and the rest of them, too. There are so many lies swirling around me, I can’t keep them all straight.
That’s another reason why it feels good to be doing this today. There’s at least one thing I get to be honest about, and it just so happens to be the best thing in my life right now.
“Then what is it? And I don’t think I’m going to have anything here,” she says, discarding her menu.
I ignore her obvious unhappiness about the food situation and dive right in. “I’ve been seeing someone.”
Her eyes grow large and her eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. But then her expression quickly clouds over again when she says, “I had a feeling there was a man involved in your decision to leave school.”
She’s got it so right, but not in the way she thinks.
“Emily, I don’t know how else to stress the importance of—”
“I’m not leaving school, Mom. And Peter has nothing to do with my break, either.”
A deep crease furrows her brow, and she looks at me dumbstruck.
Shit.
I didn’t mean to let it slip out like that.
“Peter?”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“Peter Peter?”
I nod again, caref
ul not to jump into any long explanations until she’s ready for them.
My mother falls back in her seat, looking like she’s had the wind knocked straight out of her. “So, this is why you set up this lunch? You wanted me in a public space so that I’d be forced to keep my reaction civil.”
Well, the thought did cross my mind. But I don’t say that.
“I warned you about him, Emily. I told you the men from that family are—”
“Peter’s not his father.” I stop her before she can go any further. I hate hearing her talk about him like that. “He’s gentle, and kind, and—and I’m having his baby.” I square my shoulders when I say it. I need her to know that I’m serious about this.
Her mouth drops open so far it looks like it’s about to hit the ground.
One good thing about her shock is that she doesn’t have any words to throw at me.
“We love each other, Mom. The connection we have is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I want you to be happy for us. Do you think you can do that?”
She shakes her head vigorously, as though she’s trying to clear out her jumbled thoughts. “A baby.” She scoffs. “I’d like to see you become a doctor now.”
“People do this all the time, study while also having a family. I have no intention of dropping out just because—”
“You don’t get it. I worked my ass off to give you the opportunities I never had, so that you didn’t have to live through the things I did. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be me? To sit here and find out that after everything, your life is going in exactly the same direction as mine?”
“No, it’s not. Don’t you see that? Peter’s great, and he supports my dreams.”
“Oh, please, spare me. You’re throwing your life away, and for what?”
There’s a red hot anger building up inside of me, bubbling to the surface. I fight to keep it at bay. I need this conversation to end with her accepting us and our baby.
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