Home and Hearts Aflame

by Kadi
Rated: T

Disclaimer: I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

A/N: Sorry this was delayed. RL got a little busy this week! Enjoy!


Chapter 12

Emily was the first.

It was the first moment of heart stopping panic that she experienced in her young life, when she realized at only twenty-four years old that she was not just a few days late, and the nagging fatigue and nausea were not simply a matter of late hours and stress. She and Jack had only been married a couple of years at that point, still little more than newlyweds. Sharon was on second shift, still a patrol rookie by many standards, and Jack was only halfway through his second year of law school. They had talked about having children, in that way that many couples did, and they considered it to be a distant dream. They would both be finished with school; established in their careers, and Jack had said that he would get her a house.

They had a lot of big dreams back then.

She could remember that Jack had been just as dazed as she was. They were too young. They were just starting. Her salary was barely covering the rent on their small, one-bedroom apartment after they paid tuition and expenses with the limited student loans that would cover graduate school in those days.

Then had come another first. Shock had given way to joy. This was not another ribbon to add to her collection. It was not a trophy to place upon her shelf. Despite their plans and their dreams, life had managed to find a way to assert itself. Their plans took a new form, their dreams had room for a third. Jack had boasted to anyone who would listen, and although he had talked about wanting a son so badly that they could both picture it, the reality of a daughter had completely brightened their days.

It was the first time she felt abject happiness. In spite of the fear of being in charge of such a tiny life, and the bittersweetness of being separated from her family, they had been happy. She had not known how to be a mother, but she had learned. As Emily grew, so did she, and in her daughter she found many of her dreams already realized. The first gap that her relationship with Jack had caused with her family was bridged. With Emily she found a way to reconnect with her father, at least in some small way.

She was better prepared with Ricky, and far more experienced with Rusty. There were firsts with each of them; Ricky was her first son, and that alone had created a different experience. Rusty came with challenges, so grown in so many ways, and still just a child, younger than his years in many others. There were things to be learned, delightful surprises to be found, even now as each of them entered adulthood. Nothing could quite replace those first years, however, and all of the ways that she had learned to live and love outside of herself.

The fear of that first fever. The joy of a first word; delight at that first step. The first dance class, and the tears of the first day of school. Recitals and dates, broken hearts, and shared clothes. She had held her child, and they had laughed together as friends; gossiped together about boys, and clothes, and crushes. Ricky had not been old enough to understand, but the first time that Jack had left her, it was Emily who had climbed into her bed late at night. Her girl had patted her cheeks, wiped her tears, and offered her favored stuffed rabbit as a means of comfort.

Sharon lay beside Emily now. The fog began to lift, and her daughter began to stir near mid-morning. As she fought the lingering weight of sedation, and began to struggle in her unconscious state, Sharon slipped into the bed alongside her. She lay on her side, head propped in her hand, and stroked her fingers through her daughter's hair, much as she had when her girl was still a child. When she began to whimper, Sharon crooned softly. She hummed quietly and guided her girl back to the land of the waking. As Emily's lids began to flutter, and she slowly became aware, Sharon drew a finger down the bridge of her nose.

"Come on, Emmy-bug," she murmured gently, "come back to me." Sharon smiled when her eyes opened. They were disoriented, those lovely brown eyes that had stolen her heart the first time that she looked into them. She had already loved her daughter, but it was not until finally holding her that first time that she had realized what it truly meant to have her heart no longer be her own. "Shh," she began carefully, while the backs of her fingers gently stroked the pale curve of her daughter's cheek. "You're okay." There was confusion first, and then there was fear. Emily's gaze swept the room, almost wild, before lighting on her mother again. "You're okay," Sharon said again, and gently cupped her chin.

She gasped. Her hand lifted and wrapped around her mother's wrist. Emily closed her eyes and shook her head against a jumble of images, much of which did not make a great deal of sense. "Mom." She took another quick breath. "What?"

"Breathe." She turned Emily's face toward her. "Just breathe, baby. You're safe." Jack had wounded her heart, but it was her children that had the power to break it. Every illness, every hurt, she ached with them. Emily's fear pulled at her now, and she fought the moisture stinging behind her eyes. "I'm right here, baby."

Her lungs burned a little less as she slowed her breathing. Emily exhaled quietly, slowly, and counted each breath until her head stopped swimming. It ached. There was a throbbing behind her eyes. As she lay there, eyes closed and concentrating on the sound of her mother's voice, the feel of her beside her, Emily began to realize that everything ached in some way or another. She took stock of the soreness in her body, and the pain in her lower legs and feet. When she tried to move, she felt weighed down. Her body felt heavy and sluggish, and oddly weak. She hummed softly and let her eyes open again. Emily focused on her mother.

Her throat was dry, and her voice scratched when she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?" Sharon smiled down at her. They would talk about where they were in a moment. "Welcome back. We were worried about you." While she watched, the fear began to recede, but the confusion remained. "How much do you remember Emily?"

"I don't…" Emily frowned and shook her head, but groaned as that made it throb that much worse. "Hm." Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. "I'm not sure. I was waiting for a cab to the airport, it rang that it was downstairs. I think…" It was all a jumble, filled with fog and gaps. "I just don't know. I took my bag down. Then I think something hit me?" Emily reached up, winced as she touched her forehead. She remembered the glint of light as an object was swung at her, and then little of anything else. "Everything is dark after that, and I just remember moving. An ambulance maybe?" She drew her hand away and sighed. "Was I mugged? Someone must have gotten into the building."

Sharon stroked her cheek again. "No, it wasn't a mugging." She kept her voice soft, soothing. "Emily, honey, you're in Oregon. The police found you wandering out on the 126, west of town. We're not sure exactly how you got here; you didn't make your flight. It's been a few days since anyone saw you. A lot has happened since we last spoke." She traced the line of her daughter's nose again. "What we think is that you were kidnapped, and either escaped or were let go. We were hoping you could fill in the gaps for us."

Emily tried to think back, but there was too much fog. The images were disjointed. She shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't remember anyone." She blinked and tried to clear the haze that remained. "Oregon?" That had been her destination, but she had no recollection of arriving. Emily's eyes widened. "Oh god, Sam. He has to be going nuts by now!"

She tried to sit up, but Sharon eased her back again. "I spoke to him. Sam is okay. His plane landed half an hour ago; he should be here soon. He is very worried about you, but I assured him that you were going to be just fine." Sharon paused for a moment. "Emily, we didn't know that you were missing. Whoever took you was sending Sam regular text messages. He's feeling like a first class heel; maybe you can convince him that it wasn't his fault." That would give her daughter something to focus on, something that was outside of herself, as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Emily's mouth moved, but there was no sound forthcoming. Her breaths came quickly. She shook her head again. Her eyes fluttered and closed. Emily swallowed hard. "Mom, what is happening here?" She was more confused now than she was before.

Sharon sighed. Sadness clouded her eyes. "We just don't know, Emily. We're going to find out, I promise you, but right now, making sure that you are okay is what is important to all of us."

"Am I?" She had no memory of how she had gotten there, or what happened to her. She hurt all over. Emily looked down at herself, but saw nothing serious, beyond the scratches on her arms. Her leg was elevated, and her foot appeared to be in a surgical boot of some kind. "Mom?"

She sounded frightened. Sharon stroked her fingers through Emily's hair. "There are a couple of broken bones. Minor fractures. The orthopedist said they will heal. The boot is to keep them aligned. You were barefoot when we found you, so there are some cuts on both feet. One of them is deeply infected. The doctors are treating that. You were dehydrated and drugged, honey. Other than that, you appeared to be okay. There were no other injuries or signs of abuse."

Emily was nodding slowly. That much was a relief. She hadn't felt this badly since the time she and her friend Ashley had gotten so drunk on hurricanes at Mardis Gras that she had to crawl from the elevator to their hotel room. That helpless feeling coupled with memories of her father in a similar state had frightened her. Emily had sworn then that she would never drink that much again, and hadn't touched more than a glass or two of wine since. She breathed out slowly. "The ortho said the bones would heal; will I dance?"

Sharon's lips pursed. She considered her words carefully. "There is every reason to think that will happen," she said. "The doctor said it would depend on how well the bones heal. They're more concerned with the infection in your other foot. Right now you're responding to the antibiotics well, but if they have to do any extensive debridement, that could become questionable. Emily…" Sharon sighed. "Right now, everything looks good. The doctors here are being cautious. There is no reason at all to think that you won't be on stage again in a few months."

"Months." Emily's eyes closed again. She covered her face with her hand. She took a thin, shuddering breath. "I don't usually dance in the summer, so I suppose…" Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. "Mom, why is this happening?"

"I wish that I knew." Sharon wrapped an arm around her, held her close. "I'm going to find out, Emily. I promise you that. We will try to make sense of this." For now she was more concerned with keeping her children close; keeping them safe. "The only thing that I want you thinking about right now is getting well."

"How can I—" Emily trailed off as the door to her room opened.

They both looked up, and over, as a tall, broad shouldered man walked into the room. He wore a wool coat, and there was a leather duffel pulled over his shoulder. His gaze swept the room quickly, and landed on Emily. His bag was dropped, tossed near the wall and out of the way as he crossed the room. "Em."

"Sam." There was a sense of relief that swept over her. Emily swept a hand over her hair; she pushed it out of her face as she tried to sit up again.

Sharon slipped off the bed at the same moment that he reached it. She stood and smoothed her hands down over her sweater and jeans. It was difficult, recognizing that your children were not exactly children anymore, and it was not only your comfort that was needed. Sharon found that she could empathize with her parents now in a way that was missing before, although Emily was much older than she had been when Jack came into her life. She stood back and folded her arms across her chest, averted her gaze from the reunion taking place on her daughter's hospital bed.

Movement at the door drew Sharon's attention and she looked over. She sighed quietly. Jack was loitering there. That was another, entirely different source of frustration for her. He wanted to be present, and she was trying to be neutral. It was hard. Even if he was attempting to be on his best behavior, there were some attitudes that were so deeply ingrained, they could not easily be suppressed. Fatigue settled in; it was in the tightness in her shoulders and the ache in her back. She had done little more than nap for a few minutes all night, and her waking hours had been spent making polite conversation with her ex-husband, and anxious at the thought of the trouble he might cause with his usual lack of tact or forethought.

Whatever regret or jealousy he felt, it was no longer her issue. The problem was, however, Jack was so accustomed now to picking at Andy when the two men were together, the words slipped out without care or effort. He ignored him. Even as he tensed and ground his teeth together, Andy ignored every ill-placed comment, and they focused instead on the evidence that they had and trying to unravel the mystery of who was behind the murders and Emily's kidnapping.

Sharon looked beyond Jack. Her eyes easily found Andy. He stood in the hall, talking to Ricky and Rusty. She caught his eye and watched his brows lift. She smiled in response and let her attention shift back to Jack. Sharon waved him into the room and stepped further from the bed to make room. As Jack joined them, Sharon decided to draw her daughter's attention again.

"Emily." She tried to suppress a smile. The two young people on the bed seemed to have completely forgotten that anyone else was present. Her brows lifted in amusement, and in light of all of their worry, she enjoyed the thought of being able to delight in something so simple as young love.

They drew apart. Sam leaned back, but remained nearby, seated on the edge of her bed. Emily followed the sound of her mother's voice. She had to do a double take when she realized that her father was there too. "Dad?" She looked in askance to her mother. She had not seen them together in some time, and thought that even less likely since he had fallen off the wagon the previous winter.

"Hi baby girl." He walked forward and bent. He kissed the top of her head. Then he looked at the young man beside her. "You must be the Sam that we've heard so much about." Jack held out a hand.

"Yes." Sam shook his hand. His gaze moved back to Emily before he let his attention focus on her parents. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm Sam. Uh. Samuel Patrick, he told them. He continued to hold one of Emily's hands as he introduced himself. "I'm sorry, I guess I should have said that before."

"We understand." Sharon smiled at them. "There are some moments in which decorum is simply not possible or necessary. I think this qualifies."

Emily stroked her hand along his arm. "Sam, my mother Sharon, and my dad Jack."

Her father shoved his hands into his pockets. "And Sam is your… roommate?"

Sharon pressed her lips together and looked at the floor. She shifted where she stood and cleared her throat. "Jack." Although she didn't look up, for concern that they would see her amusement, she did shake her head at him.

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it." Jack rolled his eyes at her. "Come on. She's barely mentioned him, and now they're living together. She definitely didn't tell us about it first." He waved a hand at his ex-wife. "Don't you think it's all happening a little fast?"

Emily found herself laughing. She and Sam looked at one other. She rolled her eyes at her parents. "I told you."

"You did." He grinned crookedly at her. She warned him that her mother would try to be carefully curious about it, but her father would be a bit like a bull in a China shop with his questions.

"Sam and I have known each other for most of our lives," Emily explained. Her hand stroked down his arm again.

"Since at least middle school, I think." Sam's head inclined as he thought back. He looked at her parents, blue eyes sparkling. "Emily and I were at Saint Joseph's together."

"Sam is from Los Angeles. His parents moved up the coast when they retired." She studied him, and then her parents. "I hated him." Emily shrugged. "He was an arrogant jock with a bad attitude."

"She was a stuck up princess," Sam replied. "I didn't have time for that." He nudged her shoulder with a smile. "We didn't exactly move in the same social circles. Who had time for ballet?"

"Football is such a barbaric sport," Emily teased, nose in the air.

"Says the girl who threw her ballet shoes at me once." A lock of dark hair fell across his brow and Sam swept it back. "You were a brat and you know it."

"You were cheating off me in Geometry." Emily poked his chest. "You deserved it, QB." She looked at her parents again and almost laughed. Her father looked confused, her mother was trying not to laugh herself.

"I passed didn't I?" Sam continued to grin. "After graduation," he explained, "I went to Alabama on a football scholarship. The problem with going to school on a scholarship is that when you get hurt, you lose it. I tore up my knee sophomore year and couldn't play anymore. I ended up going home to LA after that semester. Finished my two year degree at Santa Monica. My dad was a partner in an advertising firm. He put me to work, and I finished out my undergrad degree at UCLA. A few years ago, I managed to impress one of his bi-coastal clients. It got me a promotion and a transfer to our sister firm in New York. Finding Emily again was a complete accident."

"Emphasis on accident." She wrinkled her nose at him. "The clumsy oaf ran me down in the park."

"No one runs that early," Sam explained. "I glanced away from the jogging lane for a second. A second," he stressed. "Suddenly there she was, and we were all tangled up and trying not to eat pavement."

"While he was apologizing," Emily said, "I realized that I knew him. I just couldn't place him."

"I would have known that snotty attitude anywhere," Sam replied. "After we realized who each other was, we went for coffee."

"We started realizing that we were passing each other in the park almost every morning," she said. "It was only a matter of safety for both of us if we just started running together."

"After a few weeks of that," Sam told them, "I finally decided to try asking her out again. I mean, she decimated me when I asked her to our junior prom. A guy doesn't recover from that kind of thing."

"The only problem was," Emily smiled sheepishly, "I had just broken up with Trevor. I wasn't ready to try seeing anyone else yet. So I asked him if we could be friends instead."

"Yep." Sam nodded slowly. "That was even worse than when she laughed at me junior year, but what is a guy going to do, right?"

"You were dating other girls the whole time," she poked him again. "I was just the chick you took to the game so you could complain about the date you had the night before; don't even try playing the poor puppy card." Emily rolled her eyes at him. "We started dating last year. Things seemed to finally… I don't know, line up the way they were supposed to."

"Keeping two apartments seemed like an unnecessary expense," Sam said, "when one of us was always with the other one anyway." He stared at Emily, and when she nodded, he turned his gaze on her parents. "Don't worry. I asked her to marry me first."

She wrapped both of her arms around one of his and leaned into him. Emily shrugged at her parents. "It's not the kind of thing we wanted to tell everyone over the phone. We weren't going to be able to both get back to California until summer, so we were planning to do it then."

"Married?" Sharon stared at her daughter. "Emily!" Throughout their tale, she chose to be amused. They were rather humorous, and there was something about them that seemed a bit familiar. That amusement had immediately given way to shock.

"Well," Emily sighed, as if put upon. "If you would retire and move to New York, these things would not come as such a surprise."

"If you would dance in LA, the same would be true," her mother shot back at her. She shook her head. Her lips parted as she exhaled. There had been no warning. Not even an inkling. "Emmy."

"You don't get to corner the market on falling for your best friend, Mom." They both knew that it was not her father that she was talking about. Emily leaned into Sam's embrace when his arms circled her. He was her comfort. She felt better, safer, and less like the world was a spinning haze with him there.

"I'm beginning to think that he's right." Sharon moved forward, past the still stunned Jackson. She cupped her daughter's face and leaned down to rest her forehead against Emily's. "You really are a bit of a brat," she said gently. Emily was gripping her arms again, while Sam leaned away from them. "Do you know how much you are loved, little bug?"

"More than any heart can hold," she whispered back. Emily smiled tearfully. "I found mine," she whispered, referencing a conversation they'd had some weeks before, about love and strength and finding not just a lover, but a partner.

"Well." Jack cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair. "That's…" He expected Sharon to get emotional. She always did where the kids were concerned. "Some news," he finally managed.

"I know." Sam gestured helplessly. "The deputies here want to talk to me when I have a minute. I don't know what else I can tell them, but I thought it might come out. I wanted Emily's family to be able to hear it from her first. We can still tell my parents when we planned. Or I can call them. They will understand."

Emily frowned at him. "Why are they talking to you? I don't understand." Her gaze swept the room. Her mother had stepped back, but was standing close. "Sam had nothing to do with any of this. Why is he being questioned?"

"We need to know if he saw anything," Sharon explained. "Any clue, even the smallest detail, could help us. They'll also be going over his phone records, since he was getting text messages from your phone. Just to try and identify any calls or texts which might stand out as unusual. Missed calls, wrong numbers, they can seem innocuous until something like this happens. It's all routine, honey," she touched her daughter's shoulder. "No one believes that Sam was involved. We're just trying to follow any lead that we can."

Emily scrubbed a hand over her face. "I just don't believe this is happening. First the trouble with Daniel, and now this."

"A lot has happened." Sharon looked around the room, settled on her ex-husband. "Why don't we let Emily rest, and I'm sure Sam would like a few minutes with her. We can discuss the case in more detail later, when she's feeling stronger."

"You don't have to leave." Sam had one of Emily's hands clasped tightly in his again. "Not on my account."

"I think it's a lot for Emily to take in right now," Sharon said. "I don't want to overwhelm her with too many people." There was a knock at the window. They all glanced over. Rusty and Ricky were standing there, the latter of which waved. "Case in point." She smiled at her sons, who were just as eager to see their sister. "We'll be back," Sharon promised. "Get some rest," she told her daughter.

"I will Mom." Emily smiled tiredly. She leaned her head against Sam's shoulder.

When he didn't seem inclined to budge, Sharon grabbed Jack's arm and turned him. "Let's go. You too, Jack." She had to give him a push to get him moving toward the door. Sharon followed, and as they stepped outside, she pulled the door closed behind her.

"How is she?"

"Did she remember anything?"

Sharon smiled at her sons. She leaned back against the closed door and let her shoulders slump, just a bit, beneath the weight of her own fatigue. She hummed quietly. "She's okay," she said, to Rusty's question. To Ricky, she replied, "She only just woke up. She doesn't remember very much. We'll give her some time to reorient."

"So that's Sam." Ricky was looking inside the room again. "Funny, I don't remember him. Big guy though."

"Well, you were a few grades behind them." Sharon pushed away from the door. She herded both of her boys away from the window to give her daughter some privacy. "Freshman don't exactly run in the same circles as Seniors, as I remember it. Or didn't you complain about that often enough?"

"Wasn't her friends I wanted, exactly." Ricky smirked. "Senior girls were hot. Especially the cheerleaders."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Richard." Jack was laughing, and it earned him a glare. "Do not encourage him."

"He doesn't need encouragement," Rusty muttered.

"Don't listen to him." Ricky grinned widely. "He's still upset the barista was flirting with him, but I got her number. Not like he was interested."

"I wasn't," Rusty said. "It's the principle of it. If she was interested in you, she would have flirted with you. Getting her number because you're with me is just cheating. It's kind of cheap, and just a little bit lazy."

Ricky rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "Are you teaching him nothing?" He looked at Andy. "I'm guessing the words wing and man are completely lost on him?"

Andy threw his hands up. "I'm not teaching him anything. Your mom has rules. I'm past needing a wingman, so the lessons wouldn't do him any good anyway."

His snort drew another glare. Jack sighed. There was quite a lot he could say on the matter, but he decided not to. Instead, he glanced back toward his daughter's room. "What do we really know about Sam anyway? Are you sure it's a good idea to leave her alone with him? Just because he has an alibi doesn't mean anything. We both know alibis are a dime a dozen, and they can be worked around."

"It's fine, Jack." Sharon rolled her shoulders and took a seat. She felt a hand on the back of her neck and looked up. She smiled and leaned against Andy when he stood beside her. Her head rested against his hip, while his fingers worked at the stiff knots in her neck. "We're not going anywhere, and I believe him. It would be very hard for him to fake that history, especially given they both remember it."

"History?" Andy looked down at her. She was exhausted. He would like to talk her into leaving, just for a little while. She needed to sleep. "What did they say?"

"They're getting married." Her arm curled around his leg. Her hand settled against the inside of his denim covered knee. "Apparently Sam and Emily went to High School together. They bumped into each other in New York a couple of years ago. They were friends first."

There was something in the sparkle that entered her tired eyes. Andy's brows rose. A smile played at his lips. "Sounds familiar."

She hummed, even as she shrugged. "Maybe. It would be hard for him to fake a high school connection to Emily. I think that's probably fine. I know that there is a lot going on right now, but I refuse to let this situation dictate how anyone in this family looks at the world. We cannot greet everyone we meet with suspicion."

Where he leaned against the wall, slowly rubbing away the kinks in Sharon's neck, Andy sighed. He looked at the floor, studied the odd pattern of the tiles. He considered for a moment, while tapping the fingers of his other hand against his leg. It was not the first time they had heard of Sam. Emily began mentioning him a while ago, first in passing, and later with more frequency. It became obvious that the relationship was growing, even before she spoke of him in relation to any kind of romantic association. Sharon had wondered about him, and at the time, for a while, she had worried.

"It's not a problem." Andy shrugged. "Sam. I wouldn't worry about it either." He knew that he had drawn her attention. Andy looked down at her, his dark gaze unwavering. "You don't have anything to worry about with him."

There was confusion in her gaze. Sharon's brows rose in askance. "What do you mean?" When he did not immediately respond, and instead only continued to stare at her, Sharon felt a very familiar, somewhat nagging sense of mixed suspicion and worry sweep over her. It was a feeling that she knew well, and one typically associated with their work. It sent off warning bells, and the distinct thought of ah oh that typically rang through her mind. In years past it would have been followed by a reporting cycle. More recently, it meant a pile of paperwork. Sharon sighed. She gave him a knowing look. She almost didn't want to ask. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." He continued to gaze back at her. "Just trust me, it's not a problem." Andy shrugged. "You don't have to worry about Sam. He checks out."

Her eyes closed. Sharon fought the urge to groan. "Andy." There were moments, like this one, when she didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or throttle him. She leaned her head against his hip again. "Please tell me that you did not perform an—"

"I didn't do anything," he said, truthfully. "I'm telling my girlfriend that she doesn't have to worry. My boss isn't here right now." He tipped her head back and smiled down at her. "Since my girlfriend has no business talking to my boss about our personal relationship, she doesn't have to worry about it either." He gave her a pointed look; his brow arched. They had an agreement that the only way that this would work between them was if they didn't bring their work home, and didn't take their personal relationship into the office. There were overlaps, since neither could occur in a complete vacuum, but they did not actively involve the two. "Besides, I really didn't do anything. Now, if I happened to call in a favor…"

"I get the point." She stopped him before he could continue. Sharon decided it was better that she not know the details. She could imagine just what he had done. It was such an Andy thing to do, and while she couldn't completely fault his logic, it was also Andy logic, which meant that… well, she wasn't going to think about it. She was too tired to give it more than a passable thought anyway. "Then I won't worry about him," she said instead. "Sam checks out, that's all anyone needs to know."

"You're kidding me right?" Jack just stared at her. "You're going to let him get away with this?" It didn't matter when or how he had broken the rule, the fact remained that it had been done. The Sharon he knew would have been all over it, professionally or personally, it didn't matter. She sure as hell never would have let him get away with something like that! "He just admitted to a serious privacy invasion. You cannot seriously—"

"Jack." She sounded weary, but her eyes glinted with warning. "What I choose to do about it, or not, is none of your business. I'm sure that we will discuss it, perhaps when there is time to do so, or we are in a location where it is appropriate. At present, I'm not going to consider it. What I am going to say is thank you, because given everything that has happened, that is one thing that I do not have to worry about right now. You might consider that yourself, since about three seconds ago you didn't want to leave Emily alone with Sam for fear of who he might really be." It was unlikely, now, that she would broach the subject with Andy again. It would have the taint of Jack, and she wasn't bringing that into their relationship. There was only room enough for the two of them, their exes had no place in it.

"Oh, I see." Jack glared at her. "So the rules only apply when you decide that they do. I suppose that goes for who they apply to as well."

Sharon felt Andy grow stiff against her. She could feel the muscles bunching just beneath the surface, and the agitation that rolled off him. He didn't comment, and wouldn't. When she glanced up at him, he was staring at the floor, but his clenched jaw and the heat in his eyes wouldn't deny his anger. Her hand moved up the back of his leg in a simple caress. She was not blind to his effort. In any other situation, he'd have already lost his temper a few times over.

"I said that I wasn't going to discuss it," Sharon replied. "I meant it, Jack. This isn't the time, and it isn't the place, and I think we both have more to worry about right now." She would make him leave. If he could not rein in his attitude, for Emily's sake if no one else's, she would send him away.

"It's not." Andy shifted his gaze from the floor. "There's more we have to talk about." His hand settled against her back again. Now that Emily was awake, and Sharon was no longer sitting vigil, as she had most of the night, he decided it was time to move on to the next crisis. He reached into his back pocket for the note. While she was in with Emily, he had gotten a plastic specimen bag from the nurse to preserve whatever evidence they could. "This was waiting for Rusty when he got home last night. He brought it with him."

"I guess someone slipped it under the door." Rusty came over and sat nearby. "It was on the floor, just inside the condo. I didn't know what to do with it." His stomach churned nervously, and watching Sharon pale as she read over it, only made the knot in his gut tighten. He chewed on the inside of his lip for a minute before he sighed. "Sharon, who is this guy? What does he want? Stroh is dead, so why would anyone else want to hurt us?"

"I don't know, Rusty." Sharon was keenly aware of the fact that she was saying that far too often lately. She lay her hand on his shoulder. "We're going to find out. I promise you that. This will not take over your life again." She wouldn't allow that, and she wouldn't allow him to be in danger again. Sharon had indeed had her fill of that, with all of her children. Her eyes closed. She felt the weariness again. It was so heavy, but she pushed it aside. She looked up at Andy as she passed the plastic encased note back to him. "I think it's time to give our friend Deputy Andrews a call."

"Yeah." Andy returned her gaze. "Sharon, I think it's time that you called Taylor." They had two murders in two states, a kidnapping in a third, and now this note. It had grown beyond what a small Sheriff's office could handle. It was time to bring their people into it. Although, this was probably above their heads now. Their suspect had crossed state lines, that meant bringing the FBI into the case.

"Yes, I think that you're right." Sharon sighed softly. Her head tilted. "How do you feel about a little interdepartmental cooperation?"

He gave her a bland look. He hated that crap and she knew it. "I think it's time," he said anyway, "and maybe with our guys on it full-time…" They would have a little more luck.

They needed it. Luck. Because time was something that they were running out of.

-TBC-