A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far! Also, I forgot to add this at the end of chapter 1: I'm not the only one who has spotted Norma's jar of Pond's face cream on top of her vanity ever since season 1, right? So yeah, she uses it and that's what I was referring to in chapter 1 ;)

After the first shock of not finding her in her bedroom, I go and search the whole house. She's not here. Neither is Norman. It is only now I realize I didn't see her car parked outside either. I go back to her bedroom, looking for clues, and that's when I see it. I must've run out of the room too fast to have not seen it before, for there it is. On top of her vanity, there's an envelope with my name written on it in Norma's distinctive and elegant handwriting. I reach for it and open it with shaky hands. My eyes scanning quickly her written note I find inside it.

"Dear Alex –

I will always love you, no matter what. I'm truly sorry.

Love, Norma."

The wedding ring I gave her two weeks ago, the one that made her eyes go wide with surprise, is also inside the envelope.

"What the hell is this?" I ask to myself. There's no explanation as to where she's gone, or why she has done this. Of course that would've defeated the purpose of her leaving like this.

My thoughts are trying to win a race, my personal emotions mixed with the logical steps I should take in order to make sense of this. I'm enraged she has left. Where the hell did she go? Why? Was this her idea, or Norman's? But my instincts kick in. I pull out my cell phone and dial.

I wait for her to pick at the other side of the call. No answer. I figured. I hear her voice but is only the greeting for her voice mail and as soon as the beep ends I leave a hasty message, trying to sound calm amongst the rush of blood I feel in my head, and I hear my own fake calm voice saying: "Norma. Please call me. As soon as you hear this. We need to talk."

Second call is to the patrol division at the station.

"Hey, this is Romero." I announce as soon as someone picks up. "I need to put out an APB on a light green Mercedes, early 70s, 300D, license plate THT 124, Oregon."

"Isn't that your wife's car?" deputy McAdams says when she hears the information I give her.

"Yes, it is. Listen, I don't want her to be arrested, I just want to have a lookout for her. She's, uh… missing at the moment." I say running my hand through my head.

"Add that the occupants of the vehicle are a white female in her early 40s, 5'7", blonde, blue eyes; and a white male, 18 years old, around 5'8", brown hair, blue eyes. If anybody else is driving that car, arrest them on the spot." I order.

I hang up the phone and look around one more time. Her travel bag is not on its usual spot. I open her closet doors; she didn't take all her clothes, but there are pieces missing; empty hangers. Same for her drawers and shoes; there are spaces now in where her stuff was before. I have no idea what she took or not. Just that she must have packed in a hurry.

And then I remember the money. My heart is pumping fast. Not because of the money, I gave it to her, is hers to use and spend; but because I suddenly realize if she took all that cash she will have enough to never come back, and I can't bear the thought of it. I go searching for the bag, running downstairs to the basement, and find it exactly where I placed it almost two weeks ago. When I open it I am relieved to see most of the cash still in there. If she took money out of it, which I'm sure she did, she couldn't have taken more than five grand. Not much else is missing from it.

A sigh of respite leaves my body. She may not have left with the intention of staying away forever after all. I touch my jacket, the inside pocket where I stuffed her note, and in the process feel my heart wildly thumping against my chest. I feel suddenly very thirsty. My throat is dry as if I just spent three weeks without water. I go up to the kitchen, pour myself a glass, and drink it up in a gulp. I put the glass down on the kitchen countertop with so much force that it breaks in my hand. I look down at my hand and see a small but deep cut; a flowing rivulet of blood slowly pouring out of it. I look at it but feel nothing.

"Norma." I voice my only thought out loud and have to close my eyes at the burning sensation of tears that want to come out. I need to find her.

Three hours later and I've driven around the entire town. Each corner, every establishment, each motel thoroughly searched. Wherever she may be, she's not in White Pine Bay. I've gone back to my old place. I have as many officers patrolling the streets as I can. If she or her car were to be seen somewhere I'll know in a minute.

I take a shower, try to eat the sandwich I bought before but I can't, and settle for a drink. My mind re-playing her last words to me.

"I will never trust you again."

The rain outside is soft but non-stop. Reminds me of the night I met her. It had been raining that night too, but when is it not in White Pine Bay? I can close my eyes now and still see her like she was that night; fresh and smiling even though it was past midnight. How from that very first moment I found her extremely gorgeous and highly dangerous. I wasn't suspecting of her that night, no. That came after we found Keith Summer's truck left in a path next to her house, and his hand floating in the river.

I found her highly dangerous because her eyes seemed like two deep pools full of secrets. Because behind the obvious beauty of those big blue eyes I could also sense there was too much hidden, buried, and concealed. At the time I thought it impossible for someone to be that mysterious; but that thought flew out the window by the third time I talked to her. She was a complete enigma and I found myself entangled in her web of secrets and half-baked lies faster than I wanted to admit.

But then I learned things while investigating her. She was not as dangerous as she seemed at first; she was just used to fighting back. By the time I decided to cover up, and to commit crimes for her, I was already enthralled by her and her mesmerizing beauty, and her completely chaotic life. My curiosity about how her sons seemed to always be in the center of some major town drama adding to the conundrum that was her.

The rain is picking up strength outside. I think about the other night, just merely a week ago, after we've already turned all the lights out, and were snuggling in bed while a sudden lighting storm had started outside. How every time the sound of the thunder came, she jumped slightly, even after the light had already announced its following sound.

"Are you scared?" I had asked while I hugged her to me.

"I love rain, but I hate thunders." Came her soft, childlike voice, and I knew without looking she was pouting.

"You do know the thunder is just sound, right? That it can't hurt anyone. The lighting striking is where the danger actually is." I explained like I was explaining it to a child, even though she probably already knew the mechanics of a lighting storm.

"Yes, but even knowing it's coming, I can't help but be scared of the outcome." She had sighed and snuggled more into me, seeking warmth and I like to think, the security my arms could offer her.

Seems fitting that is raining tonight too. I knew what was coming and just like rain, I couldn't stop it. I saw my love growing for her like a giant wave crashing into the shore. I could see my devotion to her coming at the speed of light, and I was helpless to do anything to stop it. Even if I could, I wouldn't have anyway.

I've done things for her. I've killed for her. I married her. Have known her for two years, but only in the past two weeks have I learned everything there was to learn about her. All the secrets I somehow knew where there, behind her gaze, are now my knowledge too. And I love her. I loved her before; I love her even more now.

I need to see her again. This can't end like this. She can't disappear like a cloud leaving all the heavy rain and then not coming back. I won't allow it. She's not safe. Not with him. Not out there God knows where. You're supposed to protect the ones you love from themselves even if they hate you for it.

She's the perfect storm in my life. All giant waves, and scary wind blowing, and magnificent thundering shining light into the night. She is hurricane Norma, Category 5. I'd rather die in the path of her destruction than live the rest of my life in the boring calm without her.

The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up. I fell asleep on the sofa, drink in hand, and dreamt about Norma and rain. I look at my watch before answering, it's 6 a.m.

"Hello?"

"Sheriff, we found the car."

I run out the door.

When I arrive in Portland, some of my officers are already at the site.

"Sheriff." Officer Samuels says to me as soon as I step out of my SUV.

"Do we have eyes on them? Where's the owner? Have we searched the adjacent areas?"

Most of the information was given to me while I drove. The car was spotted in the parking lot of the Rose Motel, Norma and Norman had registered for the night, they were not at the motel at the time the car was spotted by Portland officers this morning, and apparently, nobody has seen them.

"No, Sheriff. They have not been found. The owner has been called. We searched a five miles radio." I hear him answer my list of questions.

I look at the Mercedes, perfectly parked outside the motel, doors are locked, no signs of forced entry shown. Make my way to the office. There's a young woman behind the counter, looking already too nervous about everything's going on.

"Hi, I'm Sheriff Romero, from White Pine Bay." I say nodding at her as a greeting. "Were you here last night? When did your shift start? Miss…" I look at her name tag. "Stephanie."

"Ummm, no, I was not working last night. I started today at 7 a.m."

"Who worked the night shift last night?" I ask her.

"Mr. Green. He's the owner." She says looking at officer Samuels.

"He's on his way over here." He informs me.

"You said you started working today at 7 a.m. What time did you arrive? Did you see anyone getting in or out of that car?" I point at the Mercedes outside.

"No, I arrived at 6:55 a.m. Was actually running a little late. Mr. Green doesn't like when I arrive late, so I parked my car at the back and got in the office as fast as I could. I didn't see anyone."

"Sheriff Romero?" Another agent calls for my attention.

I turn around and see an older, bald, round small man who doesn't look too happy about being here.

"Mr. Green?" He nods.

"I'm Sheriff Romero. We need information on two guests in your motel. Norma Bates and her son Norman Bates. We know they checked in last night, around 10 p.m., as your records show."

He looks at Stephanie and she says "I had to show them. They're the police."

"Yes? So if you already know they're checked in, why you need me?" He asks me.

"Because they're not in their room and nobody else has seen them aside from you. Did you see anything suspicious last night? Did anybody else come with them? Did you see if they received visitors? Did they say anything about where they might be going?"

"Whoa, wait a minute. Too many questions at once. I'm an old guy. Let me look at the book and see if I remember anything more." He moves to stand behind the counter, Stephanie moves to the side, and he starts looking at the computer and at the registry book.

"Mr. Green…" I start and he interjects me with a question of his own.

"Are they dangerous? These two people?"

"No, not at all. Please answer my questions. Is there anything else you remember?"

"Oh yes. They came in last night just as I was going to close up the office. You see, I was not supposed to be here, but the young man, Charlie, who works at nights, had called in sick. I had no one else to find in such short notice, so I came down to handle the office myself. Yes, it was about 10 when they came in."

I'm quickly losing my patience. I look at officer Samuels and he looks back at me and at Mr. Green with a slightly apprehensive expression on his face.

"Uh, no, sorry." Mr. Green continues as he notices our exchange. "I don't think I have any more information on them. They arrived; they seemed like nice people, very polite. He kept calling her 'mother' and she didn't say much. She just smiled at me after I checked them in. I told them I was closing the office for the night, asked if they needed anything else, they said no. Pretty lady, that's for sure. Yes, very pretty." He finishes up.

"Did they pay cash?"

"Yes."

"Ok, thanks, Mr. Green. I'm going to ask you to please give us a call if you remember anything else. My officers will give you our numbers."

I walk to the second floor, where their room is, and where two officers are already waiting for me. "Sheriff. There's nothing inside." Still I enter and only see a bed that has clearly been slept in and nothing else. No clothes, no personal items, no food leftovers, nothing.

I leave them to finish the investigation at the motel and head out. I feel the need to drive around. An hour later I get another call from one of the officers.

"Yes?"

"Sheriff, we opened the car as you ordered. We found something."

"What? What did you find?"

"Two cell phones in the glove compartment. They've been turned off. There's nothing else inside the car."

"Ok, bring them to the Downtown Portland station. Thanks."

At the station, phone calls are made, others agencies are being contacted. I've had to explain that no, there's no reason to believe this is a kidnapping, and no, they're not dangerous. She's my wife and her son, and they're just missing. I've managed to put everyone's suspicions off them by mentioning she has a problematic brother and that I'm worried she might be running from him. I add his name and physical description to the APB just in case. I also throw in the fact the kid has medical issues, and that I'm very worried his health might be in jeopardy by skipping doctor's appointments or his meds. The day has not been easy.

Hours later I'm already checked into another motel in Portland. I'm not leaving this city yet. They were here. She might still be here and I'm not leaving without her.

The night is even worse. I'm used to being alone. My whole adult life I've been by myself, although many women have shared my bed, I was happy to sleep and wake up unaccompanied. Less drama, less expectations that way. Now the loneliness is consuming me. I toss and turn in this horrible motel bed and my mind keeps bringing back the memory of her face. To how her eyes shine when she smiles. To how angry they were the last time I looked at them. I find myself desperate for her touch, wanting nothing more than a kiss from her mouth, but not being able to achieve rest if she is not with me. I want to smell her hair again, to protect her every day of my life as I promised I'd do. Till death do you part.

When sleep comes it is restless. When I wake up the next morning it is a disappointment. I had her in my arms, I heard her laugh, and I made love to her. But as I look at my surroundings I realize it was just a dream.

The next day I arrange for her car to be towed back to White Pine Bay.

She has done this before. Run away from her circumstances when they have proved to be impossible to live with. I met her because she had moved to start a whole new life in White Pine Bay. I won't make her come back to me if she doesn't want to. But I will do my damn best to make sure she's safe. She may be a runner, but I will find her.

TBC…