Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for this update. I actually have two, but trust me when I tell you that you probably don't want me to post it when I am in the middle of book editing and can more or less guarantee at least three weeks before I can write more to get past it. Normally I wouldn't hold back (you know my lack of self control when it comes to posting, hee,hee), but it's a major cliffhanger that would be cruel to leave you waiting so long to read what follows. I might be wrong and you couldn't care either way. I'm just going by how I feel about major cliffies that take weeks upon weeks to update afterward. Thus, I'll leave you for the time being with this far lighter ending chapter, and give you the drama when I'm able to write more again.

Thanks to my beta AgoodWITCH for her work on this. I heart her hard; just like I do all of you who take the time to read. Without you guys, I'd more or less be wasting my time here. LOL. So thanks for using some of your precious time to read my stories. See you all around, and hopefully I'll be able to post regularly again in a few weeks time!

Chapter 5

The interviews stretched on for two days. By the end of the first, Carlisle insisted I go home for some rest. Instead, I compromised by showering in the women's locker room four floors below us and then taking some time to nap on one of the couches in the war room. Carlisle protested, but in the end, I won the battle.

Five hours later, I was dressed again in a fresh suit Alice had stopped in to pick up for me on her way back to the office after an overnight at home. I returned to the observation room, watching in fascination as Edward interviewed yet another staff member, the answers always the same, but yet, in each and every one, he managed to pull out something that spoke directly of their character. He had a phenomenal talent for psychoanalysis, and he utilized it to make sure he left no stone unturned.

Getting tired of sitting back and just watching, I decided to take the reins and give Edward a break once the guards were pulled in. We were relatively certain, knowing the Volturi brothers, that the guards would be squeaky clean, but even the slightest link in the chain could be through one of them.

One after another, I kept hitting the same brick wall as Edward. There were no breaches we could find and I was growing more apprehensive with each passing hour. Finally, I reached the last of the guards, smiling at the small young lady who stood out amongst the rest of the bulky guards.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Sartin. I'm Agent Swan, and I just need to ask you a few questions." I gestured to the chair across from me, which she slid into casually and reached to shake my hand.

"Please, call me Chelsea. I'd love to help if I had any idea why I am even here."

I nodded. "We have reason to believe that there is a copycat on the loose emulating Royce King. We have reason to believe that he may be interacting with this copycat, possibly even smuggling items and information back and forth with him, and we are researching all connected in any way with King to ferret out the source."

Chelsea's eyes grew wide as she sucked in a slow breath, her brows furrowing in concentration. I smiled apologetically before continuing.

"You are the guard in charge of screening correspondence, correct?"

She nodded slowly, her lips pulling into a thin line as she studied her fingers, apparently lost in thought.

"Can you please tell me what kind of mail and packages you have seen coming and going for King?"

She sighed, twiddling her thumbs and chewing on her lips. "He doesn't get much mail at all, and I have yet to see him send any. The only correspondence he receives is from his mission outreach pen pal."

My ears perked at this one very small lead. "Mission outreach pen pal? May I ask what you remember about them?"

She nodded. "If you want the name and address, we keep a list on file of all individuals whom communicate with our inmates. I've never read anything that seemed amiss in them though. The letters come from a man who lives in Baltimore. The return address has the last name Castor, no first, and he signs all of his letters with the initials J.C. He was paired with Inmate King through a congregation known as Blessed Crown of Thorns Free Church, apparently based out of Baltimore."

I scribbled on my note pad as she spoke, feeling in my bones that this was our big break. I lifted my head as she paused. "I am going to request my coworkers gain access to the database to gain the rest of the information regarding this pen pal. Could you possibly tell me any more about the nature of their correspondence? What does this JC say to Inmate King?"

She shook her head, her brow furrowing. "Nothing that really sticks in my mind, he usually quotes a lot of bible verses and talks about justice for the slighted and forgiveness for those that walk in the light. He also talked a lot about his wife who was pregnant with their firstborn. His last letter came just yesterday. It said that the little boy was born early due to complications, and that mother and son were both resting peacefully, and had already been consecrated. I assumed that meant that the baby had already been baptized."

My heart was pounding as she continued speaking, my instincts as both an investigator and psychological profiler were screaming. This was it. This was our lead.

"Did JC mention anything about his wife's name?"

She narrowed her eyes in thought before they lit with recognition. "Bree, JC referred to her as Bree."

About this time, Carlisle came in with a file. He nodded solemnly at the young girl before me as he sat the file in front of me and then left. I opened it to read his hurriedly scrawled note. "The database brought up the address, which is a post office box in Baltimore. There is no church by the name she mentioned. Missing Person's had a hit for a Bree Winchester, gone missing at the age of nineteen from the University of Boston campus approximately ten months ago. She would have just turned twenty two months ago. Her height, hair color, and blood type do match up with our victim, although until the team finishes the facial reconstruction, we won't know for sure. It is about halfway completed. Have ordered a check of King's cell for any copies of the correspondence, although I doubt we will find anything. This is the best lead we have so far. I doubt she can give you much more."

I closed the file and stood, stretching out my hand to Chelsea. "Thank you. You have been a huge help. If you think of anything else, anything at all, please call me at this number."

She shook my hand as I handed her a business card with my personal cell phone number written on the back.

"Also, if you get any new letters from this pen pal, please turn them over to us immediately."

She nodded deeply. "Absolutely."

I led her down the hall to the elevator, riding with her to the bottom floor to say goodbye one last time before returning to the War Room to add my notes to the white board and begin to brainstorm with my team. Everyone was prepared for me when I entered, most of my notes already added to the quickly growing lines of scribbles on the walls of white.

I fell into my seat behind my desk and scuffed my forehead with my palm, trying to force my brain to function more efficiently.

"Let's start with a fact review. Cullen, I'm extremely curious to hear your impressions of Miss Sartin."

Edward chewed his lip a moment before turning his deep green eyes on me. The intensity and pure intelligence there made my heart flutter a moment, a reaction I immediately shut down. We were in the middle of a murder investigation, possibly the most important one I'd ever had since it could lead to the fall of a serial case. I admonished myself internally before focusing on Edward's words.

"Miss Sartin seemed genuine. I think she is trustworthy. She also appeared genuinely concerned that she had missed the possible undercurrents of the correspondence between King and the Un Sub."

"So you are convinced that this JC is our Un Sub?"

He closed his eyes with a sigh and nodded. I could see his eyes darting behind his lids and smiled knowing he was hard at work in that photographic memory of his to confirm his assumption.

"In addition, I think there is a possibility that this Un Sub could be King's twin. The surname Castor could be a reference to the Gemini Constellation and the twin stars Castor and Pollux. In this case, this twin is most probably the submissive of the coupling, as indicated by his choice of Castor, the mortal twin in Greek Mythology, giving King the moniker of Pollux, the immortal. Furthermore, he probably reveres King in every way, possibly feeling that he owes him his life, since in the legend, Pollux gave up his immortality to save Castor and allowing them to be together, turning them into the constellation."

Emmett sat forward, a deep frown on his face. "But King was an only child. He had no brother."

"That we know of," I interrupted. "It would explain an awful lot, including the DNA results if they were somehow identical twins. McCarty, look further into King's background. Play close attention to anything that might indicate an adoption, either legal or illegal. If King really does have a twin, there must have been an adoption of some sort. Alternatively, see if you can find hospital records from the birth. Perhaps, the mother gave birth to two sons but only kept one. There could be many permutations, but it's imperative that we find out these answers as soon as possible and find this Un Sub."

Emmett nodded, dashing from the room to begin his research.

I looked to Carlisle. "Please go light a fire under the reconstruction team if you can. We need a positive ID."

He nodded and left, Alice and Jasper following them. Jasper explained as he left that he was going to take a closer look at the DNA samples. Identical twins have DNA so similar that they usually show up as positive match, but often express themselves differently in phenotype, such as finger prints and things of that nature. Thus being so, he wanted to look over all the evidence one last time with our new information filtering what he was seeing, hoping to find something he missed before.

Once the room cleared, Edward and I were left alone, staring at each other in the quiet of the room.

"You are one hell of a profiler, Edward. I am amazed every day by you."

He smiled, his eyes darkening noticeably. "I could say the same about you, Bella. You are amazing."

I felt the heat in my face as the butterflies began to tango in my belly again. I swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath, the intake of oxygen making me downright dizzy. The exhausted feeling reminded me of how tired I was, which in turn reminded me that I had yet to see Edward rest at all.

"When was the last time you got some sleep, Edward?"

He smiled. "I don't require much sleep, Bella. I did, however, take a short nap while you rested last night. I will probably take another one in the next few hours. You look as though you might need another one as well."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Nah, we're too close now. I don't think I could sleep even if I tried."

Edward nodded before gesturing to the couch across from him. "How about if we both took a couch and just let our bodies have a break in the calm before the storm then? You're going to need your energy when Emmett returns. I have a sneaking suspicion we're heading back out to the field once he gets back."

I nodded in agreement before crossing the room to melt onto the couch, tossing my foot up on the arm rest and my right arm over my eyes. Edward stretched out on the other couch after flipping off the light and we both enjoyed the silence together. After a long moment, Edward spoke in whispers across the room.

"Bella, are you involved with Agent Black?"

I swallowed before answering in a whisper of my own. "Not anymore. We tried the relationship thing once and realize we were better off as friends."

I heard his sigh beside me before he took in another slow breath. "Bella?"

I waited a moment in the silence before replying. "Yeah?"

He cleared his throat and shifted, the leather of the couch squeaking under his body. "Would you be offended if I asked you to have dinner with me?"

The butterflies lurched in my stomach. "Offended? No. I wouldn't be offended."

He was silent again before finally turning with a squeak toward me, I turned my face toward him, seeing the outline of his features in the dim light shining through the office windows.

"I…I find myself drawn to you. I've resisted for some time now, but I'm finding that more impossible with each passing day. When this is all over, would you do me the honor of letting me take you out to a nice restaurant for the evening?"

I smiled, my heart pounding in my chest as I sucked in a breath. "That sounds wonderful, Edward. I would love that."

The smile that spread across his face nearly crushed my pounding heart. I saw what looked like a tiny fist pump in the shadows before he rolled back to his back and rested his arm across his eyes as I had done earlier, but his wide smile never disappeared from his lips.