Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, and I do not own Twilight nor am I recieving anything from making this story. All rights go to her. I'm simply playing with her creation.

A.N.: I want to give a big "thank you" to CassandraLowery, who has volunteered to be my beta. She's been the biggest help, and you all would shudder to see what this chapter looked like before she got her hands on it. Check out her stories, she's a complete genius! :)


~Playlist~

"Secret" - The Pierces.
"Stella" - Kashiwa Daisuke.


"Excuse me?" I asked, wondering if I had heard her correctly. Who was that?

Mary Alice opened her mouth like she was going to answer, but she then closed it, her expression chagrined and . . . frustrated?

"That's all I got. Just a name," was all she said, dead-pan.

"Edward?" I repeated. The name was completely foreign to me.

She nodded.

"Are you going to tell me anything else?"

"I can't."

I swallowed a growl and pulled back my hand from hers, scrubbing my eyes angrily. I wasn't one for suspense or mystery. That crap pissed me off without doubt, and her cryptic remarks were grating on my nerves.

Alice saw my agitation played out on my face like a book, and she glanced down at her hands, now folded gracefully in her lap.

She picked at her nail. "I know it's strange right now, but you just have to believe me." She looked back up, her eyes begging me. For what?

"Mary Alice, I-"

"Oh please, that's my mother's name," she interrupted, waving the title off. "Just call me Alice."

"Alice," I said slowly, deliberately. "I'd appreciate if you'd explain, because I'm beginning to feel annoyed.

She nodded her head sadly, her face sympathetic. "I know, and I wish I could help, but for right now . . . my hands are just tied, all right? It's difficult to explain." She leaned forward and placed her folded hands on the table, her eyes clouded.

"But I can tell you one thing, and I need you to pay attention," her voice was dead serious.

I smirked and rocked the chair onto it's back legs, balancing there. "And what would that be? Don't forget to floss at night?"

"Bella, don't go near gardenias," she said unexpectedly.

I laughed, startled. "Why? I don't have an allergy to gardenias," assuming that's what she meant.

She shook her head. "When I was looking, I kept getting the picture of gardenias, and I sensed a malicious tone."

I really wanted to laugh in her face at that point. All the things had led to a stereotypical response from a psychic.

A vague romantic interest? Check.

An ominous warning? Check.

Completely bogus psychic?

Double check.

I rose from the chair, brushing my palms against my jeans. "This has been fun, but I should be going. Though I'll be sure to look out for the things you mentioned," I tacked on at the end.

Not really, though.

Alice's rose-bud mouth turned down into a fierce scowl at my patronizing tone. "Watch out for yourself, Bella." Her gaze was unwavering.

I couldn't contain myself any longer. I turned back, and her eyes were still on me. "Alice? Why . . . How did you know my name back in the hospital?"

She said nothing, just looked at me with a strange expression.

We were interrupted by a shrill voice.

"Bella! You'll never guess what he said!" Sara barreled into the room, breaking the intimate moment. She was towing a mortified-looking Jasper.

"He said my future husband was a lie!"

Jasper rolled his eyes, but I could see a pink stain blossoming on his cheeks. "I didn't say it was a 'lie.', I just said that I didn't believe in that stuff," he drawled.

Sara muttered something low and crossed her arms. "Whatever. We'll see whose right when you walk me down the aisle to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome."

"I'll be sure to do . . . ," he trailed off. I looked over to him, and I realized, that to him, Sara and I weren't even in the room anymore.

His wide eyes were locked on Alice.

Swiveling back to her, I could see that she was equally affected by him.

The air was so thick with tension at that point that I could chew on it.

"Jasper," Alice whispered, nearly indiscernible.

I tried not to over-think it. It wasn't like when she had declared my name back at the hospital without warning. She'd just heard Sara call him by his name.

So why was she staring at him like she'd seen him before?

Jasper cleared his throat and stepped forward, extending his hand to Alice."Hello, Ma'am," he said, his accent making it seem like an introduction from the Old West.

"Do I . . . know you?" he asked.

Alice stared at his outstretched hand as if it were a poisonous snake. Jasper finally retracted his arm after a few uncomfortable seconds, looking both disappointed yet somehow relieved.

She merely shook her head at his question.

"Oh," Jasper said.

The silence that followed that was the very definition of "awkward."

"Well, we should be going, yes?" Sara asked Jasper, who nodded. They shuffled out the door, but not without Jasper sneaking another curious peak at Alice, who was staring back at him stoically.

When they were out of sight, I thought about asking her again about the hospital. So many questions perched on the tip of my tongue. Why was she screaming like that? What were those trances like? How often did they happen?

Of course, I couldn't ask her such things. I didn't know this girl. Chances are,she'd throw me out or flip her lid on me.

I dug in my pocket again for another twenty. I held it out to Alice. "Is this enough?"

She still appeared dazed, but she shook it off and turned to me. Her head shook at my question.

I frowned. "Okay, how much more?"

Alice laughed once more before answering. "No, I meant to say that it was free - no charge."

I blinked, shocked. "Really?"

"Really."

I shrugged and stuffed the money back into my pocket.

"But I would like one thing though, in return," she said hesitantly.

I think my mouth dropped a little in shock. My mind raced through all the things she could possibly want from me, and my over-active imagination wasn't thrilled with the possibilites.

I snapped my jaw shut and cleared my throat. "And what would that be?"

Alice moved forward and held her arms out. I stared at her warily, but made no move to stop her. Seeing my lack of refusal, she ever so slowly wrapped her delicate limbs around my shoulders.

I didn't know what to do. I was so stunned that I couldn't even manage to return the unexpected embrace.

She was murmuring something, and for a minute I thought she was going into another trance, and was possibly speaking in tongues.

I strained to hear what she was whispering. You can imagine my surprise when I realized she was saying a prayer.

I tried to listen, but I only picked up bits and pieces.

"Just follow her . . . watch, don't let her . . . I'm serious . . . please, Ed-"

A shrill laugh from a small child outside broke her ramblings, and I quickly pulled back.

She smiled as I retreated. "Take care of yourself, Isabella. I will see you soon."

I hoped not too soon.

I walked in a daze through the crowd, not sure where I was headed, nor did I pay attention to the bustling, laughing people.

It was dark now, and the lights from the rides were reflecting off their young faces in an almost eerie way.

"Bella!" A voice shouted over the hum, and I turned to see Sara headed towards me, holding a much-abused Jasper. "Check out what Jasper won for me!" She hoisted the over-stuffed animal higher on her hip.

She thrusted it's furry mug in my face. "Isn't this a giant-ass panda?"

"That is a giant-ass panda," I dead-panned.

"Jasper won it in a ring toss."

Jasper scoffed. "This wasn't exactly a first time, first win kind of thing," he said as he reached into his pockets, pulling them inside out. "I'm completely broke now because of that furry bastard."

Sara blew a kiss at him, mocking. "And I appreciate it very much, hun."

She walked next to me and linked her free arm in mine. "How'd your reading go? Did she point you in the direction of your true love, too?"

I snorted. "Yep. He's in Neverland. It's going to be a long-distance relationship."

She slapped my arm. "Can you two take anything seriously?

You mock it," she pointed to me, then wheeled to Jasper. "And you won't even let her read your future!"

"I just didn't want to," he muttered gruffly.

Sara looked like she wanted to continue prodding him about it, but I could tell something was off with him. I nudged Sara's shoulder softly when she began to open her mouth. The look on my face convinced her to drop it.

We walked on in silence.

We quietly moved through the crowd until a few drops of moisture fell on our skin. When we looked up, the sky chose then to start pouring. People shriek and scattered, their jackets held above their heads as they ran. Sara, Jasper, and I ducked under a tarp hanging over a food joint.

Sara groaned at the pouring rain. "Crap, I don't want to walk to the car in this," she whined. Her face lit up, and she turned to Jasper. "Jazz, here, hold my panda."

"Can I ask why?"

"Because,

I'm going to go get the car and pull it up next to the side walk, so you guys don't get wet."

"Which really means you don't want your stuffed animal soaked."

She grinned. "Exactly. Now hold him!" She threw him into Jazz's arms, and took off towards the car. "I'll be just a moment!"

Jasper glared down at it's beady eyes. "Well, this makes me feel masculine."
I laughed.

We both quieted, just staring off into the rain. The entire place was almost completely vacant now.

I leaned toward him. "Jasper?"

He lowered himself from his towering height. "Yes?"

I chewed on my lip before asking. "What happened with you and Alice?"

He pulled back, looking out into the distance. "I don't know. . . ."

"I just . . ." he raked his hand through his hair agitatedly. "I felt like I knew her, really knew her."

I tried not to think too much into that. "Why didn't you let her read your future?"

He didn't answer immediately, partly because Sara pulled up next to us, honking the horn and waving us in. He shook his head and walked almost robotically back to the car. After walking to the car and pushing the fuzzy prize into the backseat in silence, I had given up on his answering. But he stilled next to the open door, and looked at me.

His drawl interrupted the night. "I was scared to touch her," he admitted, sounding weak. "All I wanted was to flee, and yet I wanted to pull her into my arms and-"

"Okay, enough!" I broke in, not needing to be a witness to his strange wet-dream.

"I don't mean to do anything lewd," he grumbled, shaking his head, though I thought I saw a hint of a blush hiding under his five o'clock shadow.

His face softened. "I just wanted to shelter her, protect her."

"From what?" I couldn't help my curiousity.

"From everything."

That ended that conversation.

"Hey, Bells?" his voice broke the quiet after a minute.

"Yeah?"

"You seemed like you already knew Alice before today."

Shit, he could be so perceptive sometimes. How do I explain this one?

"I, uh, ran into her at the hospital last time I was there."

His blue eyes widened. "Really? Why was she there?" His voice carried a strong tone of worry. I couldn't tell him why she was there, could I?

Absolutely not, my mind hissed at me.

"She had the flu," I muttered, looking anywhere but him. Lying definitely wasn't one of my strengths, and I knew he'd see through me in a minute.

Looking back, he had a peculiar glint in his eyes, but I choose not to over-think it.

"Are you going to get in the damn car?" Sara yelled, half-hanging out of her window. "I know the rain is letting up, but you're all wet now!" Jasper and I grinned sheepishly at each other.

We all piled into Sara's little Honda, Jasper driving, me in the passenger seat, and Sara in the back seat, though not without much tenacity. But she hadn't been back there for more than ten minutes before she was cutting down a forest with her snores. Jasper snickered with me.

He pulled inside the parking lot of my building, Sara still fitfully sleeping in the back.

"Thanks for dropping me off, Jazz," I said in a hushed voice, collecting my jacket.

Jasper smiled. "No problem. Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

Always the Southern gentleman.

I opened the car door, and the arctic blast of air that greeted me woke me up from my dreary state. "No thank you, I'm fine. Just take care of Sleeping Beauty for me," I gestured back to Sara with a smile.

Jasper returned it. "I promise. Night, Bells."

"Night, Jazz."

I quickly exited the car, shutting the door softly, so as not to disturb Sara. She hadn't been sleeping well since I informed her about the stalker, her nerves keeping her up.

He waved, and I waved back, standing at the elevator and watched until the car disappeared. I looked through the darkening parking lot and quickly made my way into the elevator.

I danced in place while the buttons slowly lit up, saying that I was closer to my destination. I knew it was silly to feel so exposed, especially while in an empty elevator, but I still sighed in relief when the doors opened to reveal the lobby.

I hated riding in the elevator for claustrophobic reasons, so when the doors opened, I quickly darted out and made my way to the stairs leading up to the thirteenth floor. As I hurried by the front desk, an unexpected surprise had me slowing to a halt.

A boy was standing behind the check-in counter.

Where was Jane?

The boy looked vaguely familiar, though. I squinted my eyes. "Seth?" I called.

The young man in question jumped violently and dropped the contents he was holding in his arms. Books scattered and a small metal bell clattered to the ground, making me cringe .

It was Seth. I smiled widely.

He groaned noisily. "Oh, Miss Swan, I'm sorry! I'll clean it up!" He dropped to all fours, scouring the floor for his items hastily, as if his accident had offended me.

"It's all right, Seth," I moved forward to help him clean up, but he waved me away. In the process of shooing me off, his arm flailed out and knocked over his cup of cocoa, spilling it over the desk and partially on my shirt.

"Oh, God, oh, God!" He rambled, and I swear beads of sweat began to pebble on his forehead. I laughed when he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and blushed scarlet at the obvious thought of pressing it to my torso. So instead of trying to clean my shirt, his hands just kind of fluttered around in panic. I laughed harder at the absurdity of it.

He wouldn't, - or possibly

couldn't - stop his nervous fumbling. He was only making a bigger mess.

"Seth, relax!" I placed my hand on his forearm, and finally his frantic movements ceased.

"I'm so sorry - I'll buy you a new shirt, I swea-"

"Good grief, Seth, calm down! I'm fine. Just breathe."

He gulped down a breath, and his face slightly turned back to it's original color.

"I'm sorry, really."

"You're fine. I'm not mad."

Bending down to assist him with what he dropped, I asked, "What's wrong? What's got you so unsettled?"

He ran his hands through his short black hair. "I'm sorry, I'm just on edge, I guess."

"I noticed," I bit sarcastically, gesturing around us. He flushed tomato red. "Why?"

"Well, er, because of the intruder the other night," he stammered.

"Ah."

So he was afraid of the psycho, too. Now my life was affecting everyone else's, too.

He quickly looked down. "Not that I was trying to down-play your nerves. I couldn't imagine what you're feeling right now. I'm sorry for making it about me." He looked so ashamed.

God, he was such a gentle, timid soul.

I bent down and caught his gaze, smiling softly. "It's okay, Seth, I'm not mad. And you have a right to be scared, just like anyone else."

"Thanks," he murmured.

I wondered how to broach the next subject. I decided to be straight-forward. "You're usually just the janitor around here," I said softly, "Why are you at the front desk?"

I realized that sounded terribly rude. "Not that you're not doing a great job," I added quickly, now my turn to blush in embarrassment.

Seth finally cracked his first smile. "I know what you meant. Jane has a couple of days off, and I'm filling in for her. They said if I do a good job, then when Jane gets moved to a different building, I can have this job permanently."

"Uh-huh," I hummed, realization coloring my tone. "That is another reason you're so stressed, isn't it."

He scratched his chin. "Well maybe . . . yeah." He looked down at his feet. "Though I've pretty much screwed up my chances."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up off my forehead. "What? Why?"

He looked at me incredulously and gestured to the pile of objects at our feet. "Need I say more? I suck."

I laughed. "I disagree, you've successfully made me forget my problems and made me laugh. So for that, I'm going to give you an 'A'."

He looked hopeful, though still wary. "You're really not going to tell my boss?" He asked slowly.

"Of course not!"

He grinned. "Why, thank you, madam," he said formally. "I'm indebted to you for life," and he swept into a low bow.

I chuckled again and punched him lightly in the shoulder. And promptly cried out in pain.

I pulled my bruised hand back to my chest, cradling it. "Shit, are you working out now? Your arm feels like stone!"

He laughed heartily through his nose. "Well, aren't you great for the ego?"

"No, I'm not," he continued, his grin still tugging at his lips. "And you need to go to bed before you harm yourself anymore tonight."

I gave him a crude hand gesture and trotted of good-naturedly towards the stairs.

"G'night, Bird-Bones," he called to me happily as I went up the first flight of stairs.

"Night."

I did admit, I pretty much sprinted up the stairs to my apartment, my eyes darting around every darkened corner. While there was people moving around and going to and from their rooms, it just felt sickeningly unsafe.

Once again on the thirteenth floor, my anxiety slowly ebbed. I could see the door to my home, and I started to breathe normally again.

Upon getting closer, I heard a rapid

clicking sound coming from the other side of my door. I grinned and slowly twisted the key in the lock before tugging the door open. Emmett stopped attacking the wood and flew on top of me, covering me with slobbery licks.

"Emmett!" I laughed. He always made everything a little bit brighter.

"C'mon, get off, you're killing me here!" I pushed him off - which was quite a feat when he was excited like that - and walked into my home, locking the door heavily behind me.

I still didn't feel safe.

~)o(~

The shrill ring of cell phone woke me from my first near-decent sleep I'd had in a week. I blinked at the clock, and it was surprisingly six in the morning.

I groaned. So much for sleeping in.

The incessant ring had me throwing back the covers in irritation and lurching for the phone. I dug through my bag, fumbling in the darkness.

I finally found my phone and turned on my bedside lamp, momentarily blinding myself before my eyes adjusted, as I squinted at the little screen.

I didn't recognize the number.

I raked my tangled hair from my eyes and pressed the answer button. "Hello?" My voice was still garbled from sleep.

"Miss Swan?"

I didn't recognize the voice at all.

This was starting to feel like one of those idiotic horror movies. Except it wasn't so stupid when it was happening to you.

"Um, who is this?" My heart chilled at the thought that this could be the stalker.

"Miss Swan, this is Chief Clearwater. We spoke the other day."

The sweet relief flooded me, making me slouch back against the wall.

He continued to speak before I could. "I'm sorry to disturb you so early, ma'am."

I cleared the frog from my throat. "Oh, no, not at all. What can I do for you?"

At this ungodly hour, I added silently.

"I realize it's quite early for a Saturday morning for an outing, but I'm going to need you to come to the station as soon as possible."

"Why?" I exclaimed.

"It's the man who broke into your building. We have him."

.

~)o(~

.

The harsh light of the over-hanging lamps were giving me a head ache. The sharp pain made me irate.

"When will he be brought in?" I asked Chief Clearwater for possibly the sixteenth time in the last thirty minutes. And like the last fifteen, his response was, "Soon."

When I had got ten the call from Harry earlier that morning saying that they had the stalker, I had nearly flown out of the apartment, Emmet hot on my heels. At that time, I couldn't have left him at home. I needed support, and Emmett was always there to give it to me.

Chief Clearwater didn't exactly enjoy him very much, though. With a handkerchief pressed tight over his nose and mouth, he glared over his hand at the dog by my feet. It was easy to say that Clearwater was surprised to see my loyal companion by my side.

"You have a dog?" He said gruffly, his nose crinkling.

"Yes. Is it a problem bringing him here?"
"Not necessarily, but I'm allergic to dogs." He chose then to sneeze violently, making Emmett startle. Harry sent him a dirty look.

"Great," he muttered, his eyes already beginning to water and redden. I had continued to feel relatively bad over Harry's discomfort throughout our stay there, and Emmett wasn't helping my guilt. I swear, whenever Emmett had the chance, he'd settle closer to Harry, making the poor man release an onslaught of sneezes.

Emmett didn't look the least bit bothered by it.

Between the rushing movement of people surrounding us and Harry's allergic reactions, I tried to squeeze more information out of him. My constant questions were much the same. How did they know they had the right guy? All we had to go on was a description from a woman who had seen him the night when he got into the apartment building. Her report was that it looked to be a middle-aged man. She had seen a tuft of mousy brown hair upon his head, barely seen under his hoodie.

Average weight and height.

Her description wasn't exactly anything too terribly helpful. No burn marks marring his skin. No distinguishing flaws like a missing eye or a hook for a hand.

Hey, it could happen.

So I was a bit skeptical that they had supposedly found the man. Harry had told me that an unidentified person had called the police when a man was seen lurking in a building close to my apartment complex. They had subdued him and brought him in. Since his unsavory behavior was so close to my proximity, and the man resembled the stalker's description, they had deemed him a lead suspect.

I just wanted to know why Harry had brought me down here to identify him. If it weren't for the woman's report, I wouldn't have the slightest inkling of what the man looked like.

How was I supposed to condemn him?

"You'd be surprised at how many people already know their stalkers," Harry had said in response, which had made me shudder violently. I had racked my brain, thinking about something, someone whom I knew who would do this. Sara? Obviously not. Even if she hated my guts, that girl couldn't kill a fly even if she tried. Jasper? No. Mindy? No. Rosalie? No.

I ground my teeth together, the frustration tearing at my skin like hot pokers.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder. I looked up from my seat, and Harry smiled apologetically at me.

"Come with me," je said, making me rise from the chair and ushering me into a narrow hallway before nudging me into a equally small room. It was dark with a couple of chairs pushed against the walls, and a small desk in the middle.

Nothing special, except for one thing.

"Is that a two-way mirror?" I asked, my voice an octave high in my surprise as I motioned toward the opaque window-like portion of the wall. I had only ever seen them in movies or televison shows.

"Yes," he murmured, moving to stand in front of it, leaving me standing awkwardly by the door. He stared at me expectantly.

"Is he in there?" I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the mirror, my eyes closed.

"Yes."

I sighed, steeling myself before walking in front of the window, my eyes on my feet, Emmett held dutifully at my side.

I dragged my gaze from the floor, along the wall, crack by crack, before settling on the glass, my eyes trained now on the scene before me.

The first thing my eyes encountered was a man in a sleek white button-down shirt, sitting firmly in a wheelchair, his eyes on the papers in his lap.

I looked up at Harry, shock coloring my face.

He sighed, looking at the weathered man. "Don't be fooled, Miss," his gravely voice rang out, "That's Billy Black, one of our best men in the field. There's not one person he hasn't been able to crack. He's our most brilliant interrogator."

I felt so rude asking, but I couldn't hold back my question. "What happened to him?"

His mouth twisted down into a harsh scowl. "He used to be on patrol, giving out traffic tickets, responding to calls about break-ins, murderings, the usual." Harry grumbled, his voice holding it's first note of dry humor that I'd ever heard.

That humor dissipated quickly. "He was just on his normal routine. He had stopped a vehicle for speeding and for not having a license plate. But when Billy asked for his license and registration, the man pulled out a gun."

Harry swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing erratically. "Didn't kill him, but the bullet shattered his spine. Paralyzed him from the ribs down. But the crazy bastard loved his job so much, that he couldn't give it up. So he became an interrogator."

"Why did the driver shoot him?" I asked, my voice hushed.

Harry growled. "For drug possession. Instead of just facing the law and the penalties for it, he decided to nearly take away a man's life. For something so stupid! Billy can't walk anymore because of that son of a-" he broke off, his lips mashing together into a tin y line.

He looked down at me. "I'm sorry, Miss. Billy has just always been one of my close friends, and it hurts to see him like this."

I shuffled my feet under his intense gaze. I didn't know where to look, what to do. "I can understand that. You don't need to apologize."

"It doesn't need to be said that the man who nearly killed Billy is going to be locked away for a long, long time."

"Wow." I didn't know what else to say to such a story.

Harry grunted, ending the tough conversation.

As I looked back into the brightly-lit room, Billy seemed the perfect picture of calm.
The man across from him was anything but.

He twitched and fidgeted, scratching his arm and dart his eyes around the room. Next he bounced his foot, chewed his nail.

He had the light brown hair as described. Flat, black eyes, bottle-cap glasses shadowing them. Nothing special, completely average in every way possible.

And I didn't know him.

I had been praying for someone I recognized, even if it meant someone I thought I knew and loved, but I didn't know him. At once, I was both relieved and disappointed. Relieved, because it wasn't someone I cared about. Disappointed, because the creep was still loose for all I knew.

Harry was looking at me expectantly, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

I shook my head, and he threw his hand up in exasperation and cursed.

He rubbed his eyes before punching a button next to the two-way mirror, and I could finally hear what they were saying.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I swear, this is just a huge mistake!" The dark haired man pleaded, his forehead drenched in sweat.

Billy somehow knew we were listening and began asking questions. His pen scratched across his notepad.

"Let's start again. Why were you lurking in the building?" he requested calmly.

The man across from him was anything but calm. "Lurk-?" The man choked, his eyes bugging slightly. "I'm not some gutter rat!"

I flinched from the venom in his tone. Emmett rubbed his head against my hand, reassuring me.

Billy's calm voice iced. "Restrain yourself,"

The man pressed his hands to the sides of his head, breathing harshly as his eyes darted around the room. He took a few more calming breaths before speaking again.

"I was looking for my girlfriend," he said slowly, almost like he wasn't trusting his voice.

Billy raised his eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

"We had gotten into an . . . argument a couple of weeks ago, and she locked me out of my apartment. Yesterday I had finally decided enough was enough, and I went back to go home. But my girlfriend had changed the locks on the door! So I was 'loitering' because I was waiting for her to come home so we could talk."

Billy remained stoic, but I could see from the slight twitch of his mouth that he was skeptical. "And you don't think that it's suspicious that you were exhibiting strange behavior close to the home of a young woman who is being pursued by a man with your nearly exact physical description?"

The man blanched three shades. "I, well, I can see - yes, that is suspicious, but - but, I -" he spluttered as he tried to force his words out, tumbling over themselves. It was almost comical.

He took a deep breath, cutting off his ramble. He exhaled and looked Billy in the eye. "I know it seems strange, and I would be skeptical too if the situation was reversed. But I swear to you, on my father's life that I was just waiting for my girlfriend."

Billy shifted in his wheelchair. "So you wouldn't mind if we talked to her to confirm your alibi, then?"

The man nodded eagerly. "I wouldn't mind at all. And could you tell her that I'm sorry for the argument when you talk to her?"

"Mmhmm," I could tell from Billy's distant tone that he would do no such thing.

The man leaned forward over the desk, his eyes pleading. "Look, I'm sorry that this girl is having problems, but you've got the wrong guy. I've never even seen the damn girl before, I promise."

The man suddenly shifted his gaze to the two-way mirror. His eyes weren't focused on me, though, obviously. They just flickered over the reflective glass, me hidden safely behind it.

He shocked me thoroughly though, when he addressed me. "Ma'am?" He called, and I stiffened like a board.

I glanced at Harry's leathery face in terror, and he smiled reassuringly. Emmett licked my palm, bumping his cold nose into my hip, and telling me in his own way that it would be all right.

The man continued after a gut-wrenching pause. "I'm sorry, really I am, but it's not me. You have to understand that."

I groaned and looked back to Harry. I cleared my throat of the bullfrog in it and said, "I don't think he did it."

Harry sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. "I think you're right," he admitted.

"What do we do now?" I whispered, terrified of the unknown.

"We keep looking."

Why, thank you, Captain Obvious.

"But at this very moment, I need you and your . . . ," he glared down at Emmett and started sneezing viciously.

" . . . Beast to go home," he finished, letting out a particularly loud sneeze.

Emmett huffed almost indignantly at the derogatory remark.

I patted the top of his head.

"I'd say you're right." If he was surprised by my out-of-character agreement, he didn't show it.

While I debated going home now or staying here where I felt relatively safe, the door opened, revealing a disgruntled man in a wheelchair. I jumped out of his way, then instantly felt bad. People in wheelchairs hated when you treated them differently, right? Should I have stayed put? Should I have ignored him?

While my mental babble hit an all-time high, Billy's face stretched into a crinkly smile. "I know what you're doing," he said easily, folding his hands on his lap.

"And what would that be?"

"You're feeling guilty over my legs."

"And will you be adding 'psychic' to your resume, too?"

"No, it's just written all over your face."

I blushed furiously and looked down at Emmett, who had slunk back behind my legs when Billy had appeared.

Billy noticed the massive ball of golden hair quivering behind me, and leaned forward, holding his hand out and whistled. "C'mere, boy," he cajoled Emmett, who merely let out a low growl in warning.

Billy frowned and pulled back his hand. "Special dog you got there, Ma'am."

"He's just not very social. Bad experience when he was a pup."

Billy smiled sadly and shrugged.

"Look, can we get back to important things?" Harry demanded, his voice hard and serious. He stared Billy in the eyes with intense emotion that I couldn't place. "What do you think about him? Got any feelings?"

Billy shook his head and glared down at his notes. "No. From his physical reactions, it was only what was to be expected from a nervous man. Nothing too over-the-top, but not so subdued either, like he's been used to being interrogated," he sighed heavily. "If I had to guess, I'd say that he really is telling the truth."

"Should we run his record?"

"I already did. It's completely clean, save for a parking ticket."

Harry cussed low under his breath and stomped off to the other side of the room, staring murderously at a crack in the paint-job on the wall. "Now we're back to square one."

I barked out a bitter laugh. Billy smiled gently and held out his hand. I stared at it for a moment before hesitantly placing my hand in his. His other hand came up to rest on both of ours, giving me a small squeeze.

"It'll be all right, dear. We'll get him."

I was surprised at his comforting gesture, and my eyes welled up at his kindness. I swiped at them miserably, a small smile forcing it's way out despite my trembling chin.

"Thank you," I murmured quietly. I suddenly felt compelled to return a kind gesture. I shuffled my feet in embarrassment. "Um, can I hug you?"

He looked a little taken back at my request, but quickly recovered. He held out his arms and smiled. I stooped low and wrapped my arms around his neck while his went around my shoulders.

"Thank you for looking out for me," I whispered against his skin. I looked back to Harry, who was watching us with an amused expression. "And you too, Chief Clearwater."

His skin reddened slightly, and he grumbled out something that sounded like Yiddish.

Billy patted my shoulder, still holding me. "That's our job, kid. I couldn't sleep at night if we didn't."

"Thank you anyways."

"No problem." Billy shifted then, indicating a feeling of discomfort.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He laughed. "I think you're vibrating, dear."

Well, I wasn't expecting that. Oh . . . my phone was ringing. I snorted and pulled back from the embrace before pulling my phone out of my front pocket, holding it up for Billy's curious inspection.

I looked at the caller ID, and it was Rosalie.

I started pushing it back into my pocket, and Billy frowned. "Aren't you going to answer that? It might be important."

"Nah, it's just my 'Happy Doctor' telling me that I need to see her; I'm sure of it. She can leave a message."

"If you say so."

I nodded and slapped my thigh with my hand, and Emmett rose instantly from the ground and trotted over to me. Harry glared as he passed him.

I rubbed Em's nose and spoke quietly. "We'll be going now. Thank you again for trying," I held my hand out to Billy, who grasped it gently and shook.

"Don't worry. You'll be all right, Ma'am," Billy's rumbly voice rolled like a summer's thunder. "You've got someone watching over you."

It took everything I had not to groan.

I pressed my lips tightly together to hold back said groan, and nodded. "Come on, Em." I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, wavingat both men before closing it. Harry and Billy waved back, worried smiles glued to their faces. My stomach balled up a little.

Walking out to the front of the building, I could see rain falling heavily through the windows. This time I didn't try to hold back my groan. Emmett had always been a big baby when it came to excessive amounts of rain. A little drizzle he could handle, but a torrential down pour like this meant he wasn't going anywhere. As if to prove me correct, he sat back down on his haunches and looked at me from the corner of his eye.

The look clearly said that he wasn't moving. I heaved another groan.

So we stood in the lobby and waited for the rain to let up a little. I decided to listen to Rosalie's voice mail and then choose to return her call or not.

Scouring my pocket for my phone, I pulled it out and pressed the play-back button for her message. Her crystalline voice rang through my crappy phone's speaker.

"Isabella, I'm sorry for not alerting you sooner, but I'm going to need to cancel our next session," my eyebrows shot up high at that. She never broke our sessions. "One of my patients has had a nervous break-down, and I bumped up our session to tomorrow. Yours' will be replacing his on Thursday. Some-how I know you'll survive this disappointment," she said with the first bit of sarcasm I'd ever heard in her professional voice.

"I'll see you Thursday in Joe's spot. Call me if you need to talk."

The beep signaled the end of her message, followed by the automated female voice declaring that there were no new messages.

I wasn't really listening at that point.

I didn't really pay attention when a person walking by told me that I had dropped my phone.

I didn't care.

A memory assaulted my mind, leaving me speechless.

I was almost out into the lobby when I heard Rosalie speak from behind me. "Jo e, I'm ready for you now."

A small man glanced at her with twitchy eyes, his legs drawn up to his chest as he rocked back and forth on his little chair. He nodded hesitantly at Rosalie's words and stood up, walking towards her, glancing at me every so often out of the corners of his eyes. His nervousness was written all over his face.

He hadn't stuck with me when I'd seen him. He'd just been another person who's cheese had slid off their cracker. But oh, how I wished I'd paid attention then.

To the way he'd watched me.

To the way he'd walked by me, staring me down.

To his twitchy demeanor.

It was Joe.

"He's the stalker," I choked.


I love ending chapters like that. Your reactions are priceless. :'D

So, on October 17th, I turned sixteen. (I can hear my mother sobbing in the other room. :D) Can you all give me a late birthday present and leave me a review? I have no problem begging!