15
"Why are you afraid to fly?"
Bella opened her eyes and looked across the aisle where Edward sat. Just as she told him he would, he literally had to carry her onto the plane, past the pilots who thought it was hilarious that she was kicking and screaming for him to let her go. It wasn't Bella's proudest moment, but he got her on the plane, and they were now en route to save Jessica Stanley from Phil Dwyer.
"I just am."
"Not good enough."
"And I am supposed to care that it's not enough for you, Masen?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because . . . because I want to know," he demanded.
"Okay." Bella shifted so she was facing him. "My parents are from the East Coast, just outside of Portland, and when I was fifteen, they put me on a plane to spend the summer with my grandparents. We were just over Tennessee when this man tried to hijack the flight. He took me hostage, pressed a knife against my throat, and demanded access to the cockpit, or he was going to kill me. I kept telling them not to give in to him, but I was just a 'stupid, fucking bitch.' His words, not mine. Anyway, they gave in to his demands, and he took me into the cockpit with him. I wasn't sure what his intentions were, but I wasn't going to let him win, so I wrestled the knife out of his hands and stabbed him three times. The pilot managed to land in Nashville, and the creep lived, but ever since, I've had a fear of flying."
"Oh, my God, that sounds . . . unbelievably scary! I never even heard of an attempted hijacking. Were you okay?"
Bella laughed. "Oh, shit, you are so fucking gullible!"
"What are you talking about?"
"None of that happened, Masen. I made it up."
"You . . . you made it up?"
She nodded.
"Why?"
"Because it sounded better than the truth."
"What's the truth?"
Shaking her head, Bella said, "I told you Sam's dad was killed when we were fourteen. Well, Sam had always dreamed of learning how to fly and started taking lessons right after his thirteenth birthday. He was good. He picked it up easily. But he had never flown alone because you must be sixteen to fly solo. The night we found out that his father was killed, Sam was angry, and he took off. I followed because, well, I was worried about him. By the time I caught up with him at the private airstrip. He'd drunk half a bottle of vodka and talked me into going up in his instructor's plane. I was dumb enough to get in with him. He took off and spent approximately five minutes in the air before crash-landing. He broke his leg; I busted a few ribs and was left with a massive fear of flying."
"Oh, wow. Is . . . is that true?"
"Every word."
Edward nodded. "Were you and Sam ever more than friends?"
Bella tilted her head to the side. "Why does that matter?"
"Were you?"
"No," she replied. "I mean, we kissed once when we were sixteen. On a dare, but kissing him felt like I was kissing my brother — if I'd had a brother. He met Emily not long after. They dated through the rest of high school, college, and medical school and were married a few years ago."
"Oh."
"What do you mean 'oh'?"
"Nothing."
"It was something."
"It really wasn't."
"Does it bother you that I might have dated Sam Uley, Masen?"
"No!"
"Liar." Bella leaned forward. "Are you crushing on me, Masen?"
"Of course not," he denied, though he looked away from her. "I'm just trying to get to know you."
"If that's your story." Bella leaned back. "You don't want feelings for me, Masen. Everyone I love dies."
And before he could argue with her, she returned to Phil Dwyer's file.
—^—
Bella and Edward landed at Hector International Airport in Fargo, North Dakota, just after five that evening. Special Agent Micheal Newton, a tall, thin man with blond hair and blue eyes, waited for them at their gate. Wearing the standard black suit, he looked cocky, but in truth, he was one of the few guys who came out of the academy with her and Rosalie who didn't look at them like they were just tits and ass.
Smiling, he put his hands up in front of him and said, "Can't believe you actually got on a plane, Bee."
"Well, he had to cuff me," Bella quipped, gesturing toward Edward. "This is Edward Masen. Masen, Mike Newton."
"Nice to meet you," Edward said, holding his hand out toward Newton.
"Is it?" he asked, ignoring his hand. "Heard you're the noob who dragged her back into the game."
"I did what I was ordered to do."
"Hmm," Newton hummed before he turned his attention back to Bella. "Brandon and I picked her up from the local PD. She's . . . not happy that she was dragged away from her life like, and this was a quote from her, a common criminal who just robbed the Family Fare."
"I'm sure she wasn't. Did you tell her about Dwyer?"
Newton shook his head.
"Figured as much." Bella sighed. "He's known where I was, Newton. He knew exactly where I'd been. Why didn't he just come after me?"
"Because that wouldn't have been any fun. The torture, the anticipation, that's what gets him off."
"You almost sound like you know what you're talking about, Newton."
He scoffed. "I should. You taught me more than the academy. If Noob here is smart, he'd be taking notes from you." Newton shifted his attention to Edward. "You're lucky to have her as a partner, Masen. I hope you know that."
"He's not my partner," Bella argued at the same time, Edward said, "Oh, trust me, I know."
"Anyway, let's get to Jessica. Apparently, I have a lot of explaining to do."
Forty-five minutes later, thanks to heavy traffic, Newton parked his black SUV inside the parking garage, and the three made their way into the building and up to the fifth floor. Jessica Stanley was seated at one of the desks in the back corner, her arms folded in front of her, and her legs crossed. Her face was hard and angry, and the short, dark-haired woman seated on the other side of the desk probably didn't help.
Alice Brandon was barely five foot, two inches tall, maybe one hundred and ten pounds, but she had a wicked right jab and could take down perps twice as big as her. They'd met Alice when working a kidnapping case outside Illinois. Their suspect, a forty-five-year-old male, had lured a sixteen-year-old girl out of her house and transported her across several states. By the time they found them locked away in a seedy motel just outside of Chicago, he'd raped her multiple times and was in the process of selling her to the highest bidder.
Bella had been the one to comfort her and reunite her with her parents. But the damage was done, and she killed herself as soon as she got home — slit her wrists and bled out while her parents banged on the bathroom door for her to let them in. It was one of those cases that had always stuck with her, fueling her desire to stop sexual deviants like Phillip Dwyer.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Alice said as she stood and placed her hands on her hips. "You look like shit, Bee."
"I know." Bella shifted her attention from Alice to Jessica. "Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" Jessica snarled, scrambling to her feet, though Alice stepped in her way before she could take more than a step. She put her hands up. "No, no, Bella, I am not okay. I am so far from okay. They dragged me out of my home without an explanation, telling me I had to go with them, that my life was in danger. But nobody would tell me what was going on! So, no, I am not fucking okay!"
Bella bit the inside of her lip, making a mental note to have a serious come-to-Jesus meeting with the local police department when she returned to Belcourt. But for now, she had more important things to deal with.
"I can explain everything. Just . . . let's go somewhere private."
"Private?" Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, just . . . just let me explain."
"Fine, whatever."
Bella could sense the hesitation, but Jessica followed her down the hallway and into one of the interrogation rooms. She sat on one side of the table while Jessica sat across from her, her arms folded defensively.
"Where'd you go?" Jessica asked. "I came to check on you after the storm, but you were gone."
"I, um, I went to D.C. It's where I lived before coming to Belcourt, so . . ."
"And you're a police officer?"
"FBI, actually."
"Oh." Jessica's eyes widened. "Why am I here, Bella? Why?"
Bella clasped her hands together before leaning up and placing her elbows on the table. "Have you ever heard of Phillip Dwyer?"
She shook her head. "Should I?"
"Probably not, no, but he knows who you are."
"How?"
"Because of me," Bella confessed. "I left D.C. a year ago after Phillip Dwyer murdered my husband."
"You're married?"
"I was, but . . ." Her lips trembled, but she managed to keep the tears from falling. "I caught Dwyer's case about a year and a half ago when we found the body of his first victim. She . . . He tortured her in ways I had never imagined, Jessica. Did things . . . Nobody should have to suffer that way. By the time we found her body, he'd already taken his second. During this time, Dwyer became obsessed with me. He'd call and tell me I could find her in one place, only to find a photo of me on the wall. He called me at all hours of the night; made me listen to them screaming for help. I tried tracing the calls, but he . . . Well, he knew better than to let them go on for too long. But when he took his third girl, I managed to track down an address. I was going to stop him, save her. Save all the girls he had in his sights."
Bella dropped her hands into her lap as she leaned back. "She survived, Jessica, but Dwyer wasn't there. He wasn't there, because while I was saving her, he had kidnapped my husband. Once more, he called, and I listened as he killed my husband."
"Oh, my God," she whimpered. "Why are you telling me about him, Bella?"
"I walked away from that life. I left it behind. Left . . . left Phillip Dwyer behind. But it turns out he wasn't done with me. He's started killing again, Jessica. He left his last victim alive just long enough for her to tell us where he'd been keeping her. And when we . . . when we got there, when we started searching for clues about who his next victim would be, we found thousands of pictures of me and a few of you."
"So what? You think because he has a few pictures of me on some wall that he's going to kidnap me? I mean . . . It doesn't have to mean that, does it?"
"He branded your initials onto her stomach. J.A.S."
"How can he know my middle name starts with an A? How, Bella? How do you know that?"
"It's my job to know things like that."
"Your job? Your fucking job? So, what am I supposed to do now? Go into hiding? Leave my life behind? I can't do that, Bella. I can't!"
"You must. I'm sorry, but if he finds you, Jessica . . ." Bella stood
and placed her hands on top of the table. "He'll make you suffer for taking me away from him in the first place, and I can't let that happen."
"But what about my job? My life? My mom depends on me to help support her, Bella. She's sick and can't . . . I can't just . . . I can't just abandon her."
"I . . . I don't know, Jessica. I just . . . I don't know. I don't want him to hurt you because of me. I can't let that happen."
"Why'd you have to run away? I wish I'd never met you, Bella! I wish you'd never come to Belcourt!"
"Me too."
Knowing she needed a minute to process the overwhelming information, Bella walked out of the room, leaving Jessica screaming about how much she hated her for ruining her life.
Leaning against the wall, Bella braced herself on her knees, her eyes burning with tears she refused to allow to fall. Her phone vibrated with a new message, and when she pulled it out of her pocket, she felt her resolve give away when she read:
You're clever, my love. I'll see you soon. So very, very soon.
Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews. Big, huge thank you to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing Beta and, most importantly, friend.