8

Once Bella felt her sense of control returning, she quickly showered and redressed, leaving the borrowed clothes folded neatly on the bench. She knew Sam would make sure they were laundered before Emily returned from her trip. Pausing next to the door, she inhaled a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth.

Edward was leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. Sam was across from him, both just staring at each other. She could almost tell what Edward was thinking. Profiling one-0-one was all about reading body language, and Sam, who knew nearly as much about profiling as Bella did, was doing everything he could to manipulate Edward's profile. It was almost amusing, she thought, but this wasn't the time or the place to call either of them out on their behavior.

Clearing her throat, she drew both their attention, and Sam walked over, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head. "I miss him, too, you know."

Bella nodded, reaching up and placing her hand on his chest. "Yeah, I know."

"I know you have a job to do, Bee, but if you need me, I'm here."

"Thanks, you know, for letting me hit you."

Sam laughed. "You're welcome. Now get out of here. I'm going to put some ice on my jaw, so when I Facetime Emily later, she's not going to ask who kicked my ass."

"She'll know it was me. You wouldn't let anyone else kick your ass like that, Uley."

"True, true, Bee."

Sam threw his head back and laughed before he walked into his office. Edward followed her to the truck, but when she went to shove her key in the ignition, he wrapped his fingers around her hand.

She looked at him before slipping her hand from beneath his. "You gotta stop touching me, Masen."

"Who was that guy?" he asked.

"Sam."

"Yes, you told me his name, but who is he?"

Bella shifted in her seat. "Sam and I grew up in the bureau together. Our dads were in the same class in the academy and were partnered when they came out. They worked their way up the ranks, bringing me and Sam along for the ride. Ever hear about the Van Buren Massacre?"

Edward nodded. "Alec Van Buren was suspected of gun running, but when the FBI infiltrated his compound, they found dozens of kids locked away in trailers. The youngest was two, and the oldest was seven, I believe."

"Eight, actually," Bella corrected. "Sam's father was caught in the crossfire. He and the three children he was trying to get out were killed. Like me, Sam was expected to follow in his father's footsteps, but after . . . when we were fourteen, Sam told everyone to go to hell — everyone but me. Instead, he became a psychiatrist."

"Oh." Edward looked back toward the gym. "Is he . . ."

"Is he my therapist? Is that what you're going to ask?"

He nodded.

"Yes."

"How long have you been . . . working with him?"

"Since the night my husband was killed. Sam's the one who suggested I might need to take some time for myself. Of course, he didn't think I would leave my family behind and move across the country, but he told me I needed to grieve, and I couldn't do that if everyone kept trying to make everything okay. So, I left and tried to move on, I guess. Every week, I called him, and every week, we sat in silence because I didn't know what to say. He would ask me how I was doing, ask me to tell him how I was feeling, and I would sit there in silence because I couldn't tell him how I pace back and forth every night, reliving every single detail of that day, and what I could have done differently."

"Why couldn't you?"

Bella frowned. "Because, Masen, that would be admitting I was weak, and I couldn't let anyone see me like that."

"You just did to me."

"Yes, well, you're a noob." Bella started the truck and reached over her shoulder for the seatbelt. "The others, they . . . they hold this unrealistic expectation of my knowledge over my head, think I'm smarter and better than I really am, hence, adding Katie Marshall's file this morning to see if I would notice. My father doesn't help, either. He's been grooming me for this since the day I was born, much to my mother's disappointment. But if they saw how hard this is for me, how I'm barely holding it together . . . Well, they would never respect me again, and I can't lose them, too. So, I'm counting on you not to say anything."

"Okay."

"Okay? You agreed just like that?"

Edward shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, you're working with me even though I'm a noob, as you keep saying. If you're willing to take a chance on me, I can have your back in return."

Bella tilted her head to the side, staring at him. "Even if you think I'm incapable of doing the job again?"

"I don't think that."

"No?"

He shook his head. "The more I see this case through your eyes, the more I understand why you walked away."

"Have you told your momma about your trip to North Dakota?"

Edward smiled. "Um, no."

"Why not?"

"Because, as you said, she'll come all the way from Austin and whoop me for being stupid."

Bella laughed and drifted into drive. "You're not worried about your sister telling her?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't want Momma to come here, and neither do I."

"You don't get along with your mother?"

"No, we do, but she didn't much appreciate us both leaving Texas for D.C. She was fine with me being here because she knew being in the FBI had always been my goal. But when my sister followed, well, that was just unforgivable, I guess."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"She worries about you both."

"Maybe."

Bella exhaled a deep breath. "Okay, Masen, what's our next move?"

"Lauren's apartment."

"Why?"

"Because we need to find out who Lauren Mallory really is, and to do that, we need to see where she lived, how she lived."

"You're learning."

"I'm trying."

Bella didn't say anything in response as she began driving to Lauren Mallory's apartment.

—^—

Lauren Mallory lived on the second floor of Palo Alto Apartments, two miles from Howard University and three miles from the pub where she was last seen. Parking in front, they climbed out and stared at the front of the building. The first thing catching Bella's attention were the security cameras over the door — the ones that weren't functioning, seeing there weren't any cords connected to them. They were merely for show, she thought with a shake of her head — a way of scaring people who couldn't tell their ass from their elbow.

The second thing she noticed was that everyone had to either have their own key or be buzzed inside. Wanting to test a theory, Bella walked over and dragged her fingers over the buttons, stopping at a random one on the third floor. She looked back at Edward as she pushed it.

"Yeah?" a garbled voice trickled through the speaker.

"Delivery."

"Ugh, I ain't ordered nothing."

"Sorry, must have hit the wrong apartment. Buzz me in, though; this is getting heavy."

"Fine, whatever."

A moment later, the door unlocked.

"That's safe," Edward scoffed.

"Most people get complacent. They think nothing bad will ever happen to them. Until it does, of course, and then they cry and whine about how they didn't deserve it."

Edward followed her inside and up to the second floor. They stopped outside apartment 2F, Lauren's apartment. Bella paused and looked to her right and then to her left. The hallway was dark and dingy, and the air was musty and dank. Bella shifted her eyes to Edward's before wrapping her fingers around the doorknob, finding it locked — not that she expected anything else since the police would have searched her apartment when she was reported missing. Sighing, she slipped a small black pouch out of her pocket and bent eye-level with the lock.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked as she plucked out a couple of picks before placing the rest of the kit on the floor.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Breaking and entering."

"Technically, it's just entering, seeing as I'm not breaking anything."

"Except the law. What you're doing is illegal, Swan."

"Only if I get caught," she muttered. She smiled and looked up at him when she heard the lock click. "Are you going to arrest me?"

"No, but we could have just gone to the manager."

"I don't want them to know we're looking around."

"Why not?"

"Because then they get nosy, and I want to be able to take my time."

"Okay."

Bella stood. "Okay? You're not even going to fight me over this?"

"Would it make a difference?"

"No, but why do you think they keep hazing you? Making you do their paperwork? Because you don't stand up for yourself, Masen. What's it going to take to get you to fight back?"

"Why do you want me to fight you?"

"I don't. I just . . . Damn, Masen, grow a pair of balls and stop letting me and everyone else push you around. My father says you're smart, witty, clever, and maybe you are, but I haven't seen any of that because you're too busy being a noob to start pushing back," she responded, placing her hand on his chest.

"I just . . ."

"You just what?"

Edward sighed, covering her hand with his. "I don't want to be another person who hurts you."

She smiled, slipping her hand from his, and reached behind her, opening the door to Lauren Mallory's apartment. "Then you should have told him no."

Spinning, she entered the two-bedroom apartment, feeling her fingers clench into tight fists. She heard Edward follow but couldn't look at him, knowing she was barely holding on to the small amount of control she had.

Unclenching her fists, she looked around the small, cozy living room. The walls had been painted a sage green, and white curtains covered the one west-facing window. There were two dark brown loveseats with sage green throw pillows and a white blanket draped across the back. Between them was a cherry oak coffee table with two half-burnt candles and a handful of magazines.

A matching cherry oak entertainment center held a television, dozens of books, and photographs of her with her parents. Bella walked over and picked up one of the pictures. She was standing between her mother and father, who had the same dark hair and eyes. Their arms wrapped around her, and she wore a bright yellow graduation robe and hat.

"Where'd she graduate high school from?"

"Um, she's from a small town in Washington State named Forks."

"How small?"

"Like three thousand people small."

"Very small." She placed the picture back on the shelf. "How'd she end up at Howard University?"

"Her parents said she aced her SATs and got a full ride. Jumped on the chance to get away from Forks."

Bella nodded. "What else did they tell you about her?"

"They said she was funny, smart, and caring. She volunteered at homeless shelters in Seattle every Thanksgiving since she turned fifteen."

"Padding volunteer hours for her college applications."

"Not according to her parents."

Bella scoffed. "Oh, please."

"Believe it or not, Swan, some people are just nice."

She laughed. "That was sassy, Masen. I'm impressed."

"Sorry."

"And you ruined it by apologizing."

"So you want me to be . . . mean?"

"No, I want you to stop letting me be a bitch to you."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Guess that's what you need to figure out, don't you?"

And giving him a look, Bella turned and headed down the narrow hallway. She stopped in the doorway to the first bedroom, Lauren's bedroom. Like in the living room, the walls had been painted sage green and white curtains covered the window. There was a white, wrought iron canopy bed with sage green bedding, a white dresser, a rocking chair, and a cheval mirror. On top of the dresser were other pictures of her with her parents, but on the nightstand was a photo of her with a man with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He had his arms wrapped around her, his head pressed against the side of hers.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Tyler Crowley, her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend. Depends on who you ask."

"Wait!" Bella said, putting her hand up. "Why didn't her file say anything about a boyfriend?"

"I don't know."

"You don't . . ." Bella clenched her hands into fists again. "How can you not know? Don't you think her having a boyfriend is important?"

"Yes, but it wasn't in the notes when I dictated her file. I guess I just didn't think about it."

"You didn't . . . You didn't think about it? Jesus fucking Christ, Masen, you really are a noob!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Then stop acting like one," she snarled. "Phillip Dwyer likes his girls innocent and pure. Bree, Jane, and Heidi, they were all virgins. I'm betting Chelsea and Gianna were, too. They were the kind of girls who didn't date, who were solely focused on their futures. It's what attracts him to them. In his mind, he's liberating them from their mundane life."

"How can he know this about his victims?"

"Because he doesn't pick them randomly, Masen. Each one was handpicked, studied, and stalked by him. He knew every aspect of their lives, knew things they probably didn't even know about themselves. Who interviewed Tyler?"

"McCarty and Whitlock."

She nodded. "And let me guess, those notes weren't given to you, either."

Edward slowly shook his head.

"Those motherfuckers," she muttered, digging her phone from her pocket and scrolling through her contacts, stopping at the first name she came to, Emmett's. She clicked on the call option and placed it on speaker, her eyes meeting Edward's as it rang. She was about to hang up when it stopped ringing, and Emmett said, "S'up, Bee?"

"Are you fucking stupid, McCarty?"

"Not usually the way one greets another in polite society, but you know, it's whatever," he quipped. "Is there a reason you're questioning my intelligence?"

"Tyler Crowley."

There was a pause followed by a heavy sigh. "Bee."

"That's what I thought. He told you to keep it quiet, didn't he?"

"He seemed to think you might do something stupid like hack into our system to find out if our information was credible. And Masen's a noob, so . . ."

"You don't even realize what you've done, do you?"

"Bee."

"Save it. I don't want to hear it, McCarty. I expected better from you."

Bella ended the call before immediately sending her father a text that said, You stupid son-of-a-bitch. You just made things a thousand times worse for Lauren Mallory. Hope you're happy.

Furious, she shoved her phone into her back pocket and tried to keep from lashing out at Edward. It wasn't his fault Charlie had played them all like pawns, putting Lauren Mallory in even more danger just to manipulate her into coming back.

Bella shifted her eyes to Edward, who was staring at her. "Know where he lives?"

"Who?"

"Who the fuck do you think? Tyler Crowley, Masen!"

"Oh, um, no, but he works at the same pub Lauren did."

"Two birds, one stone. Let's go."

"You really think Dwyer will hurt her worse if he knows she's not a virgin?"

"Yes, Masen, I do. He's already had her for at least eight days. At this point, even if we find her alive, she's . . . he's already destroyed her. Let's just . . . let's get out of here."

As Bella and Edward walked out of Lauren Mallory's apartment, she felt her phone vibrate with a new text message — a message she knew was a reply to hers.

Her father would give her a dozen excuses for holding pertinent information about Lauren, but in the end, it didn't matter.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! And a HUGE thank you to Sunflower Fran for getting me this chapter today and cleaning my messes. She is an amazing Beta and friend.