Skip Tracer Swan

by AloneButNeverLonely

After an excavator makes a grisly discovery at her son Henry's school, Emma Swan is tasked with tracking down the dour, affluent Regina, who has decided to skip town before her first scheduled court date. Once bounty hunter Emma embarks upon her hunt, she soon realizes that not everything is as it appears to be. Because it is so, so much worse.

1. Skip Tracer Swan

Chapter One: Skip Tracer Swan

---

Emma's back was ice cold.

It had been a long two weeks on the road and her legs were tired from running, climbing, crouching and all manner of sleuthing in the pursuit of her most recent bail jumper. Her bounty had brought her all the way out to El Paso this time, but her first stop the minute she got back home: was Granny's diner.

Or… the walk-in freezer located at the back of Granny's diner, to be more specific.

She was cold where she leaned against a rack of portioned, frozen pie dough, but the body that squirmed and thrashed heavily against her front was warm. So warm. Teeth scraped hungrily against the side of Emma's neck between hot and wet, open-mouthed kisses and a subtle growl fell into the small, hollow space above her collarbone.

"I missed you…" The pair of lips moving against her neck spoke, sounding breathy and excited.

Emma's blood thrummed at an eager pace in her veins despite the deep chill in her skin. "I was gone two weeks. You hardly missed me." She drawled.

Reddish-brown hair as soft as velvet darted backward then and silvery, jade green bedroom eyes flashed upward at Emma, blinking once, and then twice.

Emma loved to tease.

"That time I came back from Amarillo, and we got stuck in the storm cellar when the power went out?" The blonde leaned forward. "You missed me then ."

Long, dark lashes fluttered helplessly over those greenish-silver discs boring a hole right through her. "Is that right?" The lips beneath them asked.

"Mhm." Emma hummed.

When they kissed her again, another muted growl fell into Emma's mouth and traveled down her throat, plummeting lower and lower. Emma's hands pawed where they could and gripped hard at the small waist in front of her.

Emma also loved coming back home.

"Ruby! Where you at, girl!"

The shouting echoed outside of the walk-in, and the young woman named Ruby bared her teeth against Emma's lips with a cute snarl. A long rumble of sexual frustration billowed out of the waitress before she threw her head back to return a holler. "Coming!"

Emma chuckled, reaching out to grip the underside of Ruby's jaw to turn her face toward her own again. "Oh, not nearly yet." Getting Ruby Lucas riled up was a thing Emma Swan enjoyed immensely, which was why it was usually one of her first stops other than home after a long job.

"I did miss you…" Ruby insisted with a full pout. "Let me show you just how much later?"

"Ruby! You get your narrow ass out here!"

"Alright!" Ruby shouted back toward the door and then pulled her hungry eyes back toward Emma. "Tonight?"

Emma pulled at her shirt to fix it and threw a length of her wavy, goldenrod hair over a shoulder to cover what was no doubt a swath of lipstick left behind on her neck. "I'm taking Henry home tonight, remember?"

"I'll be quiet."

Emma hacked a short laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will!"

The blonde lifted a hand and folded her fingers into her palm repeatedly toward the waitress in a request. A wide smile broke out upon Ruby's lips then as she darted forward into Emma's space again.

Emma merely kissed her with a gentle, shoved emphasis to separate them once more. "My jacket?"

Ruby pouted again. "Oh."

Giving in to her, she let go of a short sigh through her nose. "Not a minute before ten o'clock. And uh- wear the red ones." Emma said, flashing Ruby a charming smile.

Ruby's lower lip pulled into her teeth instinctively as she nodded her head in hurried agreement. The tall and slender waitress then took a step back and slipped off Emma's maroon leather jacket, handing it over with a conspicuous and slightly eager grin. Emma gave her one last kiss upon her high cheekbone and then exited the cold of the freezer, dousing the last bit of flame that swirled low in her belly.

The sharp clinking of metal utensil against plate ware and a low, indistinct murmur of conversation filled the front of the diner as Emma walked into an adjacent office and through a set of swinging double doors that led to the kitchen. Standing in front of a deep washtub sink on a footstool with both arms covered in soap suds up to the elbow was a boy of maybe twelve or thirteen. The tinny sound of "Only You" by Yazoo played from a nearby phone that was propped up into a stainless steel third pan. The boy sang off-key, but heartily.

"Careful, workin' hard like that might make a mother proud." Emma said with her arms folded across her chest in admiration.

A brown mop of hair twisted in her direction suddenly. "Mom!"

The young boy leaped backwards from the stool and turned to rush into Emma's arms, flinging soap and water as he went.

"Oh!" Emma laughed, catching him around her waist. "Hey, kid."

She hugged him tight. Seeing her son after a particularly grueling job always made her feel happy, like she somehow belonged in the world. Emma would never get used to the way he ran to her every time she came home, and she was so very thankful for that.

"D'you get him?" He asked as he rested his chin on her stomach, his eyes looking just past her own and toward the ceiling. She loved the color of them, how big and beautiful and dark they were. She just wished that it didn't make him so uncomfortable whenever she stared.

Emma nodded with a small hum, drawing her eyes upward and away to release him from his awkwardness. "Yeah, no big deal."

"Kick his ass?"

"Henry!"

Henry released his arms from around his mother's torso and shrugged his shoulders with a cheeky grin. "What? You're not the only one who's good at telling when someone isn't saying everything."

Yup…

Definitely my kid.

"Just… watch your language around Granny Lucas, okay?" Emma warned. "I chase down bank robbers and car thieves for a living and she's the one I'm afraid of."

"That just makes you wise in your young age, sweetheart." The double doors behind them buffeted back and forth where an older woman stood with her hands upon her hips. She smiled at Emma and blinked at her from behind tall, thick lensed glasses that sat low on her bird-like nose. Her hair was gray with long life and swept up into a precise bun that topped her head.

"Hi, Granny." Emma replied sheepishly.

"Wise, but not nearly scared enough." Granny teased, wagging a finger. Emma chuckled as Henry dried off his hands with a clean dish towel. "Here you are, young man. Your two weeks' wages." The aproned, full-figured woman said as she palmed her singing dishwasher his payment.

"Thanks!" Henry cheered, thumbing through a small stack of crisp, green bills.

Emma balked quietly in surprise and tossed her eyebrows. "Wow, cash? That's a hell of a wad, lemme see—"

Granny Lucas was quick to smack the back of Emma's reaching hand, who muffled a small yelp behind her closed lips.

"Cool! Hey mom, can I buy you dinner?" Henry asked, taking a quick peek of her face to gauge her reaction.

Emma's heart melted.

"How about dinner is on the house tonight?" Granny grinned, beaming full rows of large, straight teeth with two strikingly sharp canines. Ruby possessed the same noticeably fanged cuspids. Must be a familial thing… Emma thought.

Henry bounced excitedly on his heels. "Grilled cheese?"

Emma couldn't have been prouder. "That's my boy."

"Two grilled cheese it is. Come and get your seats."

---

Emma's tired, heavy-lidded eyes stared up at the dingy, popcorn ceiling of her bedroom that night. Every single muscle in her body screamed for her to be still, even though she already was. It seemed that they just hadn't gotten the message yet, apparently. Emma was exhausted, but she'd been more tired before. Two weeks was nothing for a skip trace and bounty capture. Though, this one did manage to toss her around like a bit of a rag doll. The bondsman who hired Emma had failed to mention that this particular bail jumper stood a whopping six foot five and weighed two hundred and eighty pounds of "I fucking dare you" . Getting knocked around just came with the job sometimes, but all men fall the same when kneed in a certain tender area. Emma took a deep breath and tried to stretch, but her arms fell back upon the mattress like flopped, rubbery sticks.

Having her ass kicked and then rolling around in bed with an energetic waitress who possessed a voracious appetite for sex in the span of just a few days really took it out of her. The door to Emma's bedroom squeaked on its hinges then, and in walked said waitress with a loaf of bread tucked in one arm and packages of cheese and deli meats in the other. Her lips spread thinly across her teeth as she cringed with the sound of the door and toed it shut behind herself carefully.

"You weren't kidding when you said this was it. Literally all you have is this, beer, and more cheese." Ruby admonished as she sat back down at the end of the bed and rolled up the sleeves of one of Emma's button-down shirts along her forearms. She wore the shirt, and nothing else. "How long have you had this?" She asked, flipping a package of smoked turkey breast slices back and forth between her hands.

"I told you, it was frozen. You won't die." Emma replied, sliding a hand under the back of her head. Boy, her arms were sore. "And uh- if you're gonna raid my kitchen in the middle of the night, you gotta put on some more clothes. I've got a thirteen-year-old who's probably just figuring out what most boys his age use the internet for—"

"Ew, Swan…"

That was her name to everyone else: Swan. Very rarely did anyone call her by her first name, and when they did it usually either earned them a scowl, or an apology.

"I'm serious." Emma insisted. She reached across then and pulled at Ruby by one of her thighs to bring her closer. Fuck, I need to stretch more often… Emma reminded herself. Ruby giggled and stopped her fiddling with the deli meat to scoot the rest of the way.

"Okay…" Ruby sighed as she leaned down to lay beside Emma again, abandoning her mission for a sandwich for the time being. "Sorry."

Then she stared at Emma like she always did.

Emma didn't usually mind, but it did have a way of making her feel like she was outside of her body. Direct eye contact was something she initiated with other people, not the other way around, and it was usually in the pursuit of a lie. It was just that feeling seen like this made her skin crawl sometimes. Ruby had kind eyes. Big, green ones that could probably make anyone melt. Emma knew her to be caring and patient as well, but there was always something that stopped her from taking things a step further, and not just with Ruby.

With anyone.

"You have more bruises than last time." Ruby mentioned quietly as her eyes continued to scan the top half of Emma's lean and muscular frame. Emma didn't appear to possess that much upper body strength at first glance, but her biceps and stomach showed distinct signs of musculature when one took a closer look… Or just a longer and more careful one.

"He was a big dude. It all worked out."

Ruby sighed again. "Sometimes, I want to worry about you."

"You don't have to." Emma tried shaking her head.

The slightly younger woman took a breath in and parted her lips as if she were about to say something further but stopped herself and instead exhaled slowly through her nose. She leaned in and kissed Emma on the cheek.

Ruby was also good at not letting her mouth run away with her heart. Emma appreciated that about her.

She wasn't ready to give up seeing Ruby whenever she came back to town in between jobs, and it appeared that the other woman seemed to understand that. This was what worked for them. Emma just wasn't sure if she'd ever be capable of opening herself up to another person ever again. Not after Henry's father.

"So… what's in El Paso?"

Oh. Right.

Poor thing's never stepped foot outside of Sugar Land.

"Well—" Emma began with a deep breath, taking a moment to stretch her aching ribs. "Tacos."

"Tacos? That's it?"

Emma huffed a tired laugh. "Tacos, cactuses—"

"Cacti." Ruby corrected.

"Yes, thank you, bookworm." Emma replied quickly with a playful roll of her eyes. Damn, even her eyeballs hurt. "Tacos, cacti, the ass end of a mountain range…"

"Oh, mountains! What're those like?"

Emma smiled. "Um…" She thought for a moment. "You know how when you're on a plane and it takes off—"

Ruby was shaking her head.

"Oh, yeah—" Emma cleared her throat and tried again. "So, like, when you're really sick and your ears get sort of stopped up like there's pressure behind them, right?"

Ruby nodded.

"Well, the higher you are in elevation compared to sea level, your ears can feel like that and they kind of pop."

"Sounds like it would hurt." Ruby muttered, propping her head up with her elbow.

"Not always." Emma replied. "But that's pretty much it. I don't really get a lot of time to enjoy the scenery when I'm too busy hunting down grown ass adults who lie to judges."

Ruby stuck out her lower lip with a pout to feign empathy for Emma's rowdy and exciting career. Emma remarked at how the other woman didn't seem at all interested in wanting to come away from Sugar Land, but only perhaps that she had an interest in what else was out there. It was strange to consider staying in one place for so long and not having any desire to leave it.

Such a fate would have Emma Swan crawling on all fours and begging for freedom.

---

Good Charlotte's "The Anthem" played loudly in each of Emma's ear buds as she tossed old food wrappers, empty paper drink cups and other pieces of trash and fast-food debris from the back seat of her Saturn Yellow 1972 Volkswagen Beetle. She figured now that she had the time to clean out her car that she'd go ahead and get it done, instead of worrying about the mountain of mail that currently crowded her small kitchen table. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that every piece of it was a past-due notice or collection agency of some kind all vying for her attention. But at least the bug was paid for… Or, stolen. It's not like that little factoid mattered, anyway. Nobody had come looking for it in over a decade and she'd grown since then. Meaning, of course, no more grand theft auto. Her job description included working closely with law enforcement, after all. So, good luck to the bank in repossessing that. Emma only needed two things in life: That little yellow bug, and her son.

A cylinder of mace rolled underneath the passenger's seat as she gathered up an old sweater from the floorboard.

"Damn, that's where that went…" She grumbled.

Emma wasn't exactly a fan of using pepper spray or its bigger, uglier sister, mace. Not since nearly every time she ended up using one she found herself with an undeniable urge to rub at the corners of her eyes. That, she usually regretted very much. Pepper spray was hard to get away from as it has a tendency to linger, and heaven forbid she'd have to run through it during a chase. With mace she just had to pray that she was pointing the canister the right way. No, Emma much preferred the reliability of her wits and the occasional use of a beanbag round from her 12-gauge.

Both kicked like a mule.

Each of her arms were full of dirty laundry from her backseat when her phone decided to ring. Emma grumbled again incoherently through her interrupted music and tossed the pile of clothes onto the bug's curved hood. Henry's name scrolled across the screen as she pulled it from her pocket. The image of him smiling from atop a longhorn steer during their trip to the Fort Worth Stockyards when he was six always warmed her heart.

"What's up Henry, you know you're only supposed to call me from school if there's an emergenc—"

"They found bones, mom! People bones!"

Emma stopped. "What…?"

"The guy with the tractor- he threw up and then- then the principal told us to leave, and then people started shouting at each other and the cops are here—"

"Henry! Slow down… what's going on?"

"There's a dead guy where they wanna build the new gym at my school!"

Go. Now.

"Listen to your teachers and go inside, I'm on my way." Emma ordered hurriedly and ended the call without another word.

Every hair on her body stood at attention as Emma swiped the laundry off her car and climbed inside. Her brain simply couldn't distinguish the difference between what was and wasn't imminent or real danger, and it didn't matter. It was Henry. All she knew was that she needed to get to him, and fast. A short drive later she was throwing loose gravel with her tires as she came to a halt in front of a cordoned off construction area next to Henry's middle school. Local news vans pulled in one at a time behind her and the people that spilled from them moved with a practiced speed to be the first on scene. Word traveled fast in the city of Sugar Land, Texas.

Emma wasted no time in getting out and running toward the front of the school across a small grassy knoll from the gravel lot. An excavator sat empty of operator nearby as a throng of tv station personnel pushed their way toward a row of police department deputies and school staff standing in the dirt. Once inside the building, Emma could see Henry speaking animatedly with his classmates near a water fountain in the hallway.

"Henry—"

"Mom!" He exclaimed and darted for her. "Did you see the dead guy? They won't let us back outside—"

"Good, you don't need to see anything else. Are you alright?" Emma asked, out of breath.

"Yeah, I think so. I thought I was gonna throw up when I saw the construction guy throw up- but I'm okay now. What are you gonna do?"

Emma exhaled a sigh of relief and rested her hands upon her hips. "I'm gonna go talk to your school and see why the hell they don't bother with a proper site inspection before digging. Or if there's been a crime- Either way, you're taking the day off and coming home with me."

"Awesome!"

Emma stopped mid-turn and held a cautionary hand out toward her son. "Let's chill a bit on the enthusiasm, it's like you want me to worry about your state of mind." She then smiled with the corner of her mouth, and Henry stilled his excited bouncing, smiling back at her.

"Can I come with you?" He asked quickly. Emma's heart panged at having to tell him no.

"Just stay here for a minute, okay?" She instructed. "And I mean right here. I wanna come back to this water fountain and find you parked right next to it… D'you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am." Henry replied with a dutiful dip of his chin. He was a good boy, and Emma could count on him to do as he was told.

Satisfied, she wheeled around and ran a hand anxiously through her hair as she made her way back outside in search of Henry's school principal. As she neared the crowd hovering in front of a taut half inch rope pulled between knee length t-posts, Emma spied the beige crown tips of a Stetson. The crowd then parted and revealed a khaki uniform shirt and brown slacks underneath said Stetson, which Emma recognized immediately as the official dress of a Texas Ranger. A five o'clock shadow donned the slender face of the uniformed man.

Wow.

These guys got here fast.

The Ranger caught Emma walking quickly toward the row of shouting people and turned to face her directly. That was when she saw him clearly.

"Graham!" Emma hollered.

She caught up to him and stuck her hand out in politeness. She had not seen Ranger Graham Humbert in some time now but would never forget him or the bail jumper she brought to him when they met. Graham had saved her life, right inside the Sugar Land city police department. Thoroughly patting down her targets after capture very quickly became a routine part of her job after that, and she had the scar to prove it.

The scruffy Ranger smiled at her and took her hand firmly in a sawing motion. "Well, I'll be damned… Swan, right?"

"Yup."

"The bounty hunter who got herself stabbed in front of four US Marshalls, a Texas Ranger Chief and a room full of recruits… How the hell have you been?" His gruff voice was pleasant as it mixed with a friendly laugh.

"Stab wound free, fortunately. Yourself?" Emma asked behind a slightly embarrassed smile as he continued to pull her hand back and forth vigorously.

"Good. Made Lieutenant—" He replied with no small amount of pride, pointing a finger toward a circular silver badge on his chest with a cutout center star engraved with the word 'Lieutenant'.

"Congratulations." Emma said quickly. "Listen, can you tell me what's going on? I heard they dug up some bones…?"

Graham cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes back across the small acreage of dirt where a team of hazmat suits hovered. A forensic unit had scaled a makeshift tarp tent to shield what was most likely an unearthed body.

"They're old. That much I can tell you."

"Is that right?" Emma asked.

"Yeah. Old old. Never seen anything like it… 'Cept in movies, o'course. They're all just kinda… lumped together, on top of each other and everything. Make you sorta want to pee in your britches."

Emma's blood ran cold with that. "What do you mean 'each other'?"

The Ranger Lieutenant took a deep breath and pulled the wide-brimmed hat from his head to palm at his forehead anxiously. "Well. There appears to be more than one."

An eerie pause fell between them for a short moment.

"More than one body…?" Emma felt the hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end as she shifted from one foot to another.

"Yes ma'am."

---

The sound of the faucet sink dripping in Emma's kitchen only added to her mild frustration as she scrolled through page after page of job listings and emails on her laptop. Her kitchen table rocked forward every time she leaned an elbow on top of it from one leg being slightly off-kilter than the rest, which she usually fixed by folding up a stack of past-due bills and shoving them underneath to steady it. Pink and red stripes adorned the slew of envelope faces which stared up at her next to her chipped cup of hot cocoa. They all said, "pay us, or else" and truthfully, Emma wasn't much for empty threats. Never had been. She did what she could for herself and her son to keep them fed and to keep the lights on, but skip trace jobs were becoming sparse in the area. It's like people were actually showing up to their court dates, nowadays. What was the world coming to? Did no one commit crimes and flee from justice anymore?

Emma absolutely hated the thought of begging for another waitressing job, but anything else on such short notice would be hard to come by. She had a unique skill set and the gumption above all else to perform them without hesitating, none of which really suited a corporate nine to five or any sort of sales position. After foster care, her circumstances led her in only one direction and she had no other choice but to build a life from what was there. Meaning, of course, her vast knowledge of petty crimes which included breaking and entering. Emma knew what it was to disappear without a trace, so naturally, finding people who didn't want to be found was something she was particularly good at. And when it paid, it paid good. Just not consistently.

A small yawn came from behind her, and she turned in her chair to see Henry walking slowly into the kitchen while rubbing a knuckle deeply into the corner of one sleepy eye. His dark hair was glued in an upright position on one side of his head, likely from the drool left behind on his pillow and he stood silently blinking in his pajamas in preparation to speak. Henry was like his mother in so many ways, especially in the case of not being a morning person at all. It usually took a mug of hot cocoa with a dash of cinnamon before he'd agree to un-grump and begin the day.

"Morning." Emma said, turning back to face her laptop. An incoherent mumble came from behind her as Henry shuffled further into the kitchen and began rummaging through the warped cabinets whose doors never stayed shut all the way.

"Mug here. Cinnamon there." Emma pointed toward the other side of the table. It tilted slightly like it always did when he sat in the chair opposite from her and lifted his mug of cocoa.

Henry gulped loudly and then relaxed a bit. He stared across the table at his mother, who could feel his eyes on her but continued to scroll through her emails in search of a new source of income.

"Where's the bread?" Henry spoke finally, his voice cracking slightly with his grogginess.

Emma screwed her brow together. "Bread?"

"You know, the thing you put on either side of a slice of cheese and into a pan with some butter?"

Emma couldn't help but to laugh, but she recovered quickly. Snark so early in the morning was not an appropriate greeting, no matter how funny she thought it was. Yet again, she found herself confirming the fact that this young, barely teenaged boy was one hundred percent her son, through and through.

"Watch it, wise guy. And you're not having a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast." Emma didn't have to be looking at her son to know his reaction and mimicked his go-to disappointment face.

Henry laughed. "Okay then, I'll make French toast. Where is it?" He asked again.

"What?"

"The bread!"

Emma stopped her scrolling to point her eyes toward the ceiling in thought. "Probably upstairs in my room." Then, she froze.

Oops.

Henry tilted his head. "Why's it in there?" He asked as he rose from his seat and headed toward the stairs.

"Wait!" Emma jumped. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what the state of her room looked like even though she had just come from it not an hour before then.

Henry spun and gave his mother a confused look, throwing his eyes upward to the ceiling when she tried to look into them.

"Just… sit down and I'll make us some waffles. Room's a mess right now, and you stay outta there even on a good day, alright?"

"Because you don't go in my room?"

"Exactly." Emma nodded with a smile.

She had discovered that Henry was becoming more and more curious lately of the time she spent with Ruby and seemed to take any opportunity to inquire about Emma's personal relationships as he could find. Emma knew that he'd eventually put it together that Ruby leaving their house in the morning looking like she was badly in need of a brush run through her hair might mean something a little different than "she just came by to grab something." If Emma wasn't ready for it to mean anything more than what it looked like, she wasn't ready to explain it either. The realization about her son's interest in her personal life had come hot off the heels of a rather direct and persistent line of questioning about his birth father, which Emma had barely managed to scrape past answering truthfully but in a way that wouldn't have left him broken hearted.

The blonde felt compelled to offer why the bread might have been left in her room, but knew that Henry was aware of the fact that if people chose to volunteer more information without being asked, it usually meant that they're guilty of something, or want very badly for you to believe something different. So, she held on to that little bit. Technically, he had asked, but she hadn't lied either. Her room almost certainly was a mess. Emma and her son had a standing agreement ever since he could begin having conversations: If he always told her the truth, then she would always believe him. That, and what didn't need to be said, was allowed to be left unsaid. This way, Emma would always be able to trust Henry and vice versa. It was the only way that she could operate… because he was the only person on earth that she truly trusted.

While they ate their breakfast, Emma decided to see how Henry fared emotionally from the previous day. Her son had a rather late meeting with the concept of death when it was introduced to him by some other kids at his school, which had transpired in an unfortunate and somewhat gruesome way, but ever since then Emma had been having a hard time forgiving herself. There had never been any real example set for her because she had grown up an orphan, and it was hard to take in any advice while always being in such a constant and perpetual state of forward motion… So, it was because of this that Emma often found herself fumbling through landmark lessons within her son's life. They managed to muddle their way through everything so far, if not a bit clumsily. As long as they had each other, she knew everything would be fine.

"So, do you wanna talk about your school?" She asked.

Henry's chipmunked cheeks worked hard to keep his lips closed around large bites of his food as he chewed and swallowed. "What about it?"

"Well, kid, there were… dead people there. Does it make you feel any kind of way? I just wanna know how you're doing."

"I'm okay." He replied before happily shoveling another forkful of waffle into his mouth.

"Well, alright then. I guess you're fine." Emma said flippantly with a playful roll of her eyes. Henry simply hummed an "mhm" in response. Either he was not keen to have his mother worry about him, or he truly was unfazed by it all. Emma knew that only one of those things was good, but she'd come back to it later if she noticed anything strange about the boy.

"Finish that and then go attempt to tame that whopper of a cowlick on your head before I take you to school." Emma instructed as she glanced at the time on her laptop. "If it doesn't stay down then grab a hat, you don't have time for a shower now."

Her phone rang then and chittered its sequenced vibrations onto the thin tabletop. Emma gave her son a look and then pointed towards the stairs before she took the call into another room.

"Swan."

"I've got a doozy for ya, if you're interested."

Emma recognized the voice but pulled her phone away from her ear to read the caller ID just in case she was mistaken. She read the name and then nodded with a slight clench of her teeth. Boy howdy, did she have a bone to pick with August Booth.

"Doozy seems to be your speed, doesn't it? Speaking of, when were you plannin' on tellin' me that last mark you gave me got a gym membership after his most recent DMV photo?"

"Oh, come on, you brought him 'round in record time, didn't you?" The voice on the other end teased.

"Two days is record time, August. Not two weeks. Be real with me, what've you got?"

The bail bondsman cleared his throat and seemed more than agreeable to cut right to the chase. "Some sugar baron's wife skipped out on her first court appearance this morning. She sent me the amount for her bail a week ago and said that she could pay the full bond in cash later, but my guys who were keepin' tabs on her said she bolted before the sun came up."

Emma paused. She worked for August Booth enough to know that he didn't usually expense PI's to monitor a client unless there was a lot of money at stake.

"How much was the bond?" Emma asked.

"One million."

Emma damn near dropped her phone.

Holy shit…

"And the charge?" She spoke quickly as she gathered her phone back into her hand and brought it up to her ear again.

"Murder." August replied.

She gave a long pause then. Everything in Emma's body told her to stop there and to turn around. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

"I got her bail at twenty percent. That's two hundred large. You in or you out?"

Two hundred thousand dollars…

Jesus Christ.

All of the sudden Henry whisked past her on his way to his room to get dressed for the day. Emma turned on her heels to look back at the kitchen table then, which was more utility bill and eviction notice than actual table.

Dammit.

That much money meant that her and Henry wouldn't have to worry about anything for a long time. She could pay everything off in full, and some even months in advance. Henry could finally get the braces he needed, and hell, they could even take a vacation… Wait a minute, was she actually considering it?

Emma mulled it around for another moment before August's voice chimed through the phone again, snapping her out of her momentary daze.

"Last chance, I can get somebody else."

"Hang on…" Emma swallowed. "Run me through it real quick."

"Swan—"

"You owe me, Booth. I want it straight from the horse's mouth this time. Is she dangerous?"

"Hardly."

"Don't bullshit me here. You know I'm the best."

"That's why I called you, didn't I? Look—" August took a heavy breath on the other end. "She's non-violent, a poisoner. The victim was her husband, about two decades her senior. Nobody around seems to think that he treated her very kindly… if you get my meaning. She's just a scared rich lady. Piece of cake. Now, are you in?"

Emma furled a hand into a fist and dug her fingernails into her palm. She had no choice. A job like this was rare.

"I'm in."

"Great—"

"But I want the full twenty percent, or you can go ahead and call whatever two-bit wanna-be detective wash out you like." Emma demanded.

August grumbled lowly on his end of the call. "I already planned to pay you the two hundred grand. This whole shit show is already giving me stomach ulcers and if I can break even and move on, then that'll be just fine with me, but I'll be damned if I have to pay out the full mil because some husband-killer wants to run away from her problems."

Emma nodded, settling into the fact that she had just made either a very good or very bad business deal. She'd find out sooner or later, that much was certain.

"Alright. Send me what you got."

"It's already on the way. And Swan… tip the courier this time?"