23

While Bella took a shower, Edward went downstairs to get a new keycard for her room. When she walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body, she found him sitting with her bag next to him on the bed.

"Guess I'm staying with you."

"I'd feel better if you did," he said, smiling.

"Me too," she whispered, digging a clean pair of panties out of her bag. She slipped them under the towel before putting on her bra, a T-shirt, and a pair of leggings. "Have you heard from my father?"

Edward nodded. "He and Carlisle just landed. They should be here within the hour."

"He brought Cullen, huh?" Bella sat on the bed. "We need to talk about what happened . . . earlier."

He groaned. "You regret it, don't you?"

Bella smiled. "No."

"No?"

"No!" She laughed but turned serious. "But we can't . . . flaunt our relationship, either. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I do."

"It's not that I'm ashamed because I'm not. It's just . . . We need to stay focused on finding Dwyer, on stopping him."

Edward nodded. "Make sense, Bella."

"You can't call me Bella."

"You told me, too!"

"I mean, you can't call me Bella in front of everyone else." She paused. "Garrett was the only person who called me Bella."

"Oh."

"I've been Bee since I was like five years old when I beat the shit out of this boy in my kindergarten class because he made fun of me for not wearing dresses like the other girls did."

Edward laughed. "I bet you were a spitfire as a little girl."

"Spitfire was one word that was often used," she quipped. "Garrett refused to call me Bee, said he refused to conform to the man. The man, of course, being my father."

"How'd you and Garrett meet?"

Bella smiled. "Ro and I had just graduated from the academy, and we wanted to let loose, I guess. Being Charlie Swan's daughter and having tits and ass made the academy a brutal place to be a times, but we proved ourselves. So, we went dancing at this shitty little club downtown because it wasn't well known to the assholes at the academy. Anyway, we'd had a couple of beers when Garrett and his friend came over to our table. He and Ro had gone to high school together. His friend asked Ro to dance, and Garrett asked me, and . . . I don't know, Edward. He was different than most guys who either looked at me like I was Charlie's spawn or just looked at my tits.

"The four of us hung out all night, drinking beer and dancing. When the club was closing, he and his friend walked Ro and me out to our cab because we were a smidge intoxicated. He asked for my number, so I gave it to him, even though I was sure I would never hear from him again. Imagine my surprise when he called me the next day and asked me out for dinner. I wasn't sure I should say yes, but I did. He took me to this little Italian place, and we talked about our lives, our career choices."

Bella shook her head, smiling. "We just never stopped hanging out. Even though we were both insanely busy, between my workload and his time at the hospital, we just found time to make it work. We had been together for almost a year when he asked me to marry him. I didn't even hesitate when I said yes. Maybe I shouldn't have. Then he'd still be alive."

"How long were you married?"

Bella frowned. "Six years, five months, and eighteen days."

"What was he like?"

"He was . . ." She shook her head. "I feel weird talking about him with you."

"Why?"

"Because you love me, Edward. It's weird talking about my dead husband with the man who, an hour ago, declared his love for me."

"I suppose I understand that."

"You don't, and I hope you never do."

Edward stood, placing his hands on either side of her face. "Are you sure you want to be with me, Bella?"

"No," she confessed, covering his hands with her before he could move them. "But only because I don't want to hurt you. If we stop Dwyer, and that's a big if, I'm not staying in D.C. I can't. I just . . . it's not my home anymore."

Edward frowned.

"Not what you want to hear, is it?"

"No," he admitted.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I would rather you be honest with me than bullshit me."

"Even if it hurts you?"

"Yes, even when it hurts, Bella."

She leaned her forehead against his chest, but before either of them could say anything, someone knocked on the door. They shared a look before Edward grabbed his gun and looked out the peephole on the door. Sighing, he swung the door open.

"What the fuck happened, Bee?" Charlie snarled, hurrying into the room and pulling her into his arms, but Bella placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "Bee?"

"I'm sorry, but I just . . . I just don't want to be touched right now."

"Okay, that's fair," he said, stepping back. "But what happened?"

"He's following me. That's the only thing that makes sense. He . . . He knows every step I'm making, every decision. I don't know how, but he does."

"No, he doesn't," Carlisle said, drawing their attention to him. He pushed away from the wall. "Dwyer isn't the one who left the flowers, Bee."

"What are you talking about? Of course, he was."

Carlisle slipped his phone from his pocket and turned it to face her. "We grabbed the hotel footage before we came upstairs. It wasn't Phillip Dwyer."

"Then who was it?" she asked.

"Watch for yourself."

Annoyed, she took his phone and started the video he'd pulled up. She sat on the bed, crossing her legs as she watched the hallway outside her and Edward's rooms. It showed them checking in, and then nothing for almost twenty minutes before a tall, thin figure emerged from the elevator. Their face was hidden from view, but the long, white box of flowers was perched under their arm.

The person stopped and took the time to position the box perfectly in front of the hotel room door before they knocked and took off running. It was then that Bella saw their face. Their long, brown hair and big brown eyes shifted to the camera before they slipped into the staircase, and she saw herself open her door.

"That can't be who I think it is, can it?"

"Yes, Bee. Angela Webber placed the bouquet outside your room."

—^—

Bella watched the video several times, and each time she saw Angela's face, it shook her. The girl in the pictures plastered on the walls of her old apartment didn't look anything like the girl in the video, yet there was no doubt they were the same person.

The girl in the photos had been a healthy weight, though still on the thin side. Her hair was shiny, her skin flawless, and her eyes almost seemed to sparkle. Yet, the woman in the video was tiny, a solid thirty pounds underweight. Her hair was lackluster, dull, and frizzy under her black hooded jacket. And when she looked at the camera, her eyes were hauntingly sad, broken, fragile. What had Phillip Dwyer done to that girl to break her spirit and get her to work with him?

"Bee," Charlie said, causing her to look at him. "Honey, the video doesn't lie."

"No, it doesn't." She tossed Carlisle back his phone. "It doesn't make sense, though. Why would she be helping him?"

"Extreme Stockholm Syndrome?" Edward suggested, causing them to look at him. "He's had her for over a year, right? Maybe . . . maybe he broke her to the point that she can't separate herself from Phillip Dwyer anymore."

"I mean . . . maybe," Bella whispered, bringing her nail up to her mouth. "I think the real question is why did Dwyer leave her alive when he killed everyone."

"Except for Heidi," Charlie said. "He left that little girl alive."

"Only because we found her before he could kill her." Bella stood and started pacing. "He took Angela because of who her mother is, because of Marcus Henderson." She paused, looking at Edward. "Masen thinks Henderson and Dwyer may have met when they were kids."

"Does he?" Charlie asked, looking at Edward. "And why do you think that?"

"Just seems a bit . . . coincidental that they both lived in Texas and Arizona, don't you think?"

Charlie smiled. "I do. Good catch, Masen."

"Thanks," he muttered, his ears turning red.

"Well, we're not going to solve this tonight, so let's get some sleep, and tomorrow, we'll start fresh." He dragged his hand through his hair. "You can stay with me, Bee."

"No."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Masen and I have work to do. Don't really feel like sleeping. Kind of on edge, you know?"

Charlie tilted his head to the side. "Yeah, I suppose so. Give me the keycard to your room. Cullen and I will stay there."

"There's only one bed. King size," Bella quipped.

He smirked. "I'm sure we'll manage."

"Yeah, I might let him be the big spoon," Carlisle teased, but when Charlie glared at him, he took a step backward and said, "Sorry, sir. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Does this seem like the time to lighten the mood, Cullen?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir."

Bella bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Didn't think so," Charlie said, though when he looked at Bella, he winked. "We'll meet downstairs, eight a.m. Don't be late."

"We won't."

—^—

Marcus Henderson was being housed in The Ionia Correctional Facility. Since Michigan didn't have the death penalty, he had been sentenced to ten life terms to be served consecutively. During his trial, he didn't utter a sound, never testified, never defended himself. Just sat in his chair with his hands in his lap and his eyes starting at the back of the courtroom. It only took the five men and seven women of the jury three hours to reach their verdict: guilty on all charges.

Once they'd checked into the main office, Charlie and Carlisle stayed with the warden so they could view any contact the man may have had from the outside world. Phone calls, letters, visitors. Edward and Bella were taken to a small room consisting of three round tables with built-in benches bolted to the ground and bars across the windows. There were cameras in each corner of the room, no doubt to monitor visits between inmates and their loved ones.

Bella sat on top of one of the tables just before the door creaked open, and two guards entered the room, followed by two more with Marcus Henderson between them. Tall, gangly, with long, greasy black hair and dark, beady eyes that crept into her nightmares for weeks after she arrested him. The feel of his arms wrapped around her, his breath on the back of her neck. The way he looked at her just moments before he sliced her arm open.

"Well, well, well," he slowly said as he tilted his head to the side, a creepy grin spreading over his face. "Agent Swan, this is a pleasant surprise."

"Is it? Doesn't seem pleasant from my side. Not going to lie, Henderson, you stink. Too afraid to shower? Drop the soap, and you never know when someone's going to make you their little bitch."

"Ain't nobody here making me their anything, Agent Swan."

The guards yanked him forcefully to one of the tables, hooking his hands to the bar beneath it, before one said, "We'll be outside. If he mouths off, just holler. We'll put him in his place."

"I don't need you to put him in his place," Bella said before she climbed off the table and moved so she was sitting across from Marcus. She waited until the guards left the room before she spoke again. "How do you know Phillip Dwyer?"

Marcus's eyes widened just enough for her to see, even if Edward didn't. Though Bella wasn't surprised when he said, "I don't know anyone by the name Phillip Dwyer. Who is he? Your new boyfriend? I heard your husband died. Didn't take you long to move on, did it?"

"You should shut your mouth," Edward snarled, slamming his hand on the table.

Bella held her hand up. "You think you can get to me? You can't. See, I know why you went after all those women, Henderson."

Marcus's head tilted to the side. "And why is that, Agent Swan?"

"Because your momma was a whore, who sold her pussy to help pay for your daddy's drugs."

He clenched his jaw.

"And your daddy let her. Probably pimped her out, didn't he? Passed her around to all his friends, his dealers."

"Maybe he had to," Edward added, sliding onto the bench next to her. "She was lazy, wasn't she? Didn't want to help support her family, so he made her. Traded her around like a cheap whore."

Marcus snarled under his breath.

"Oh, I see," Bella cooed, smiling. "Your momma wasn't the only one your daddy whored out, was she?"

"You should shut your pretty little mouth."

"Did your daddy let men touch you, Henderson? Did they make you suck their cocks before they shoved them up your ass or after?"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" he yelled, causing the door to be thrown open as two of the guards rushed in with their batons ready.

However, Bella waved them off. As soon as the door closed again, she asked, "How do you know Dwyer?"

"I told you I don't know him!"

"I know you're lying," Bella countered. "Was it when you lived in Texas? Arizona?" She placed her hands on top. "In Oklahoma?"

Marcus's eyes shifted to her, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Oklahoma is it." Bella tapped her fingers on the table. "How'd you meet him?"

He laughed. "That fucker lived down the street from me. Moved in the summer before I started sixth grade. He was going into third and used to follow me around everywhere. He was a mousy little bastard, scared of his own fucking shadow. Used to give him shit because he was terrified of everything."

"Like what?"

"The dark, the light, heights. I'd make him climb onto the roof of my house and then kick the ladder away so the only way down was to jump. The boy damn near pissed his pants; he was crying so hard."

"Did you hurt him?" Bella asked.

"Made him stronger, braver. I ain't done nothing to him he didn't need."

"You beat on him?" Edward questioned.

Marcus grinned.

"No, you didn't beat him," Bella murmured, bending her head to the side. "You did other things to that little boy, didn't you?"

"I taught him how to be a man."

"No, you taught him how to be a whore." Bella stood. "You raped him, didn't you? But you didn't just hold that boy down and force yourself inside him. You tortured him first. Made him feel pain, true pain, didn't you?"

"He begged for it, Agent Swan. Begged me to make him mine in every possible way."

"You really believe that, don't you? Just like you think those women you raped and murdered wanted you to hurt them."

"They begged for it, too. Eventually. They always do in the end." Marcus leaned forward. "By the time he's done with you, Agent Swan, you'll be begging him, too."

Bella leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the table. "By the time I'm done with him, Henderson, he's going to wish I made his death fast and easy. It's too damn bad you aren't going to fry for what you did to those women, but I can promise you one thing. Eventually, someone is going to end your miserable existence, and when they do, I'm going to dance on your grave."

"Sounds like a date, Agent Swan."

Glaring at him, she motioned for Edward to follow her. She banged on the door, and the guards pushed it open a moment later.

But before she could walk out, Marcus said, "Tell your momma I said hello. Or, I'll just let Dwyer tell her for me."

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Huge thanks to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing beta and cleaning up my rambling!