21

Bella placed her hands on Edward's chest, her fingers curling around the front of his shirt before she pushed him away. He stumbled back against the far wall, staring at her with an intensity that both scared her and turned her on.

Before he could come at her again, she slammed her hand against the emergency stop button, causing the doors to open. She pushed her way through the crowd that had gathered, past Mr. Banner and outside, taking a deep breath. The door opened behind her, and looking back, she found Edward standing a few feet away.

"Why would you do that? Why, Masen?"

"You didn't tell me no."

"I didn't say yes, either!" she exclaimed, clenching her hands into tight fists. "There are cameras inside the elevators, for fuck's sake!"

"I know."

"You know? Then why would you kiss me?"

"Because I've wanted to kiss you since I woke up inside your house in Belcourt, North Dakota, and saw you standing in the kitchen. Maybe even before that, if I'm honest."

"Why? Why, Edward, do you feel anything for me?"

Edward swallowed thickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just . . . I just do."

"Not good enough."

"What am I supposed to say? You're beautiful, Swan. You're smart and sassy. Yeah, you're kind of cruel. Ruthless even, but I know that's just your way of protecting yourself from getting hurt, yet you've let me see you vulnerable and emotional. I see how hard coming back here was, and I hate that I'm responsible for adding to your pain. I do, but I . . ." He took a deep breath before he walked up to her. "I don't want to lose you. Not as a partner, and not as . . . more."

"Masen," she whispered.

"I'm sorry if kissing you pissed you off. I've not hidden my feelings for you. And you haven't exactly hidden how you feel unless you're just messing with my mind. Are you?"

Bella bit the inside of her lip before slowly shaking her head. "I may be a bitch, but I am not a tease. I just . . . I don't mix business with pleasure, Masen."

"So you're not mad that I kissed you, just mad that I kissed you at work?"

"Something like that," she mumbled, placing her hand on his chest. "I don't want to hurt you, Masen, and I don't want Dwyer to hurt you just because you've become important to me."

He grinned. "I'm important to you?"

"Very important, which only puts a target on your back. Don't take Dwyer lightly, Masen. He's dangerous, so fucking dangerous."

Edward covered her hand. "I know, Swan, but we're going to figure out how to stop him. We'll do it together."

"I know you believe that, but I'm not so sure."

"Then I guess I'll have to prove it to you." Edward brought her hand up to his lips. "I need to make a stop before we head out."

"Where?"

"Stoddert Elementary School."

Bella nodded. "Esme."

"She really will call my mother if I leave again without telling her."

"Charlie is sending my mom and Jessica to my aunt's house."

Edward's eyes widened. "He thinks Dwyer will go after your mom?"

Bella shrugged. "He went after my husband just to hurt me."

Sighing, he grabbed the back of his neck.

"You're worried about Esme now, aren't you?"

"Kind of."

"Think you could talk her into leaving town?"

"No," Edward scoffed. "Not in the middle of the year, like this."

Bella nodded. "I could talk to her for you."

He laughed. "Don't think she will listen to you any more than me, Swan. She's stubborn. Kind of like you."

Bella gasped, unable to keep from smiling. "Wow, some partner you are!"

"So, you admit that I'm your partner?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Whatever, Masen. Let's not make a big deal out of it."

He laughed as he followed her to her truck. As they headed in the direction of Stoddert Elementary School, Bella couldn't stop thinking about the way he had kissed her. It was honestly the best kiss she'd ever experienced. Why did Edward Masen make her want more?

—^—

They walked into the school's office to find a heavier-set woman with gray hair styled into a loose bun at the back of her head. She had a pencil over her left ear, and when she smiled, Bella noticed a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth.

"Oh, hello, Edward; how are you today?" she said politely as her eyes shifted from him to Bella and back.

"I'm good. Mrs. Brown, this is my partner, Agent Bella Swan," he replied, gesturing toward her. "I was hoping to have a few minutes with my sister. You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."

She narrowed her eyes before reaching for two visitor passes. "Yes, yes, I know. Just make it quick, Edward."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once their passes were attached to the front of their shirts, Bella followed Edward into the hallway and toward his sister's classroom.

"Do you come by here a lot?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "This is the second time. Esme likes to hold special events for her students in the evenings. It's sometimes hard for parents to make it during the day for their skits and showcases, so Esme usually holds a special one in the evenings. I usually come and help when I can."

"That's nice."

"Esme doesn't make friends easily. She's . . . quiet and introverted. Maybe because she was so little when our dad died, and Mom worked so much, but it's hard for her to ask others for help, so I do it."

"You're a good brother, Masen."

He laughed. "She makes it easy, Swan. I worry about her, though." They stopped in front of her classroom. "I want her to be happy, you know? But sometimes she's so timid."

"Maybe she's just scared to put herself out there, only to be hurt."

Edward raised an eyebrow, but instead of saying anything, he knocked on her classroom door. A moment later, it opened, and Esme peered from Bella to Edward, her eyes widening before she stepped into the hallway.

"What are you doing here? It's rest time for my kids," she whispered, glancing back into the room.

"I have to leave town."

"Again? You just got back! Thought we were finally going to have dinner tonight."

"I know, Essie, I'm sorry. But we got a lead, so we're heading to Detroit."

She sighed. "When are you going to be back?"

"Could be a few days."

Though Bella could see the irritation in her eyes, Esme simply nodded. "Promise you'll be careful?"

"I promise, Essie." Edward pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, sis."

"I love you, too, Eddie." She closed her eyes for a moment before she leaned away. "You need to call Mom. She's been texting me all morning."

Edward nodded. "I will."

"I better get back. Stay in touch, okay?"

"I will."

After dropping their passes off in the office, Bella and Edward made two more stops: his apartment so he could pack a bag and her parent's house so she could do the same. Renee and Jessica were already gone. It hurt Bella's heart that she hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her mother, to explain to Jessica why she was once again being moved to a new safe house. She understood Charlie's decision to protect not just her mother but Jessica, yet it just made her feel guilty that, for whatever reason, Phillip Dwyer thought it was acceptable to target those closest to her just to cause her pain.

—^—

Mary and Charles Webber lived in Northwest Detroit in a small suburb named Novi. Edward parked their rental car in front of the large, ranch-style brick house just after six that evening. Bella automatically surveyed the area, almost expecting to see Phillip Dwyer standing on the street corner, smirking. She pulled her sunglasses off, hooking them to the front of her shirt as the two walked up the front path and onto the porch.

However, before they could knock, the front door opened, and they found themselves facing Charles Webber. He was tall and thin, with dark hair peppered with gray. He looked exhausted, wary even. His eyes closed momentarily as a gust of air seeped from between his lips.

"Never thought we'd see you again, Bee."

"Can't say I did, either," she replied. "Especially under these circumstances."

Charles nodded before taking a step back. "Come in. Mary's in the living room."

Bella shared a look with Edward before the two entered the house, turning toward the left. When Bella stumbled into her bedroom almost two and a half years prior, Mary Webber had been a thin woman. Now, she looked sickly. She'd lost weight, her dark hair was tangled and oily, and she sat curled up in the corner of the sofa with her knees pulled tightly against her chest.

"Hey, Mary."

"Have you found her? Have you found my daughter?"

"No, we're still looking for her." Bella sat on the edge of the smaller sofa, balancing her elbows on her knees. "Why didn't you call me when she went missing?"

"We tried," Charles said, sitting next to his wife. "The police in New York didn't think her disappearance was connected to what happened to Mary. We begged them to bring in the FBI, but they said there wasn't enough probable cause. I called the Washington office and left two dozen messages for you, but . . . We never heard back, so . . ."

Bella nodded, making a mental note to find out who had dropped the ball. "When was the last time you saw Angela?"

"She was home during Christmas. She'd been talking about transferring to a school closer to home, said . . . she told me not being here when her mother needed her was hard," Charles whispered, covering his mouth with his hand. "I talked to her on the phone two days before she went missing. She said she'd gotten accepted to the University of Michigan. I . . . I was worried she would regret giving up her place at NYU, but she said she needed to come home. We never heard from her again."

Bella nodded. "We have reason to believe she's still alive."

"You do?" Mary asked, her eyes widening with hope. "How?"

"A witness saw her a week ago," Edward replied, "with a man we've been after for a while. He . . . I won't lie to you; he's dangerous. Very dangerous."

"His name is Phillip Dwyer," Bella added, her eyes flickering between the two, noticing the way they tensed. "Does that name mean anything to either of you?"

"Well, yeah," Charles said, frowning. "He works with you, doesn't he?"

Her eyes widened. "No."

"What do you mean no? He followed up with us about a month after . . . after Mary's attack. He said he worked in the same office as you, that his job was to provide follow-up care for . . . for victims. He spoke to me and Mary and asked how Angela was dealing with what had happened. Are you saying he was lying?"

"I am," she spoke softly. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but Phillip Dwyer is responsible for the torture and murders of a half dozen women."

"Why would he go after our daughter?" Mary cried. "Why Angela?"

"I don't know," she lied because the only reason he went after that girl was her connection to her mother's case. "When was the last time you spoke to him?"

Charles's eyes widened. "It's been about a month since he came by the house, but . . . Bee, he called last night."

"What time?" she asked, pulling her phone from her pocket and preparing to text her father. "Do you have a number?"

"A little after seven. The local news had just ended." Charles grabbed the cordless phone from the side table and scrolled through the caller ID before holding the device toward her. "Here's the number he calls from."

She took the phone, noting the D.C. area code as she entered it into her message to her father.

"What did he say?" Edward asked. "The more details, the better."

Charles stood and started pacing. "He, um, he asked how Mary was doing, physically and mentally. She's been in therapy since Marcus Henderson's conviction. Well, we both have, to be honest. He asked about Angela, if there was any update to her missing person's case. And funny enough, he asked if we'd heard from you."

"Me?"

He nodded. "He always asked if we'd heard from you."

Bella quickly messaged Charlie and told him to run the Webber's phone for calls coming in the night before. It was pointless, but it was a lead they needed to follow. Just one more way Dwyer always stayed one step ahead. He knew eventually she would connect him to Mary Webber, but the real question, of course, was what linked Phillip Dwyer to Marcus Henderson?

"Are you going to find my daughter, Bee?" Mary whispered, her lips trembling.

Once again, Bella found herself lying by saying, "I am."

Because she hoped like hell Angela Webber would still be alive when she finally caught up to her and Phillip Dwyer, the odds weren't stacked in the young girl's favor.

She stood, causing Edward to follow. She slipped a card from her pocket and laid it on the coffee table. "We're going to be in town for a couple of days. If he contacts you again, please call. Whatever you do, do not let him inside."

"We will," Charles said, clearing his throat. "Just . . . just find her, Bee. Please find her."

—^—

Bella and Edward checked into the Cambria Hotel in downtown Detroit, but instead of heading upstairs to their rooms, they found themselves seated in a booth in the back of the bar. He had a glass of whiskey in front of him, and she had a vodka cranberry. They sat in silence for almost half an hour before Edward leaned forward, placing his elbow on the table.

"How do you manage to listen to their stories, knowing the horrors they went through, and not let it get to you?"

"I don't," she admitted. "I box, or run away," she quipped. "You go to rage rooms. When profiling, we're taught to only focus on the facts, not let emotions take over. But, and this is just my opinion, you can't be a good profiler if you can't connect emotionally with what the victims go through. Men like Marcus Henderson and Phillip Dwyer see these women as nothing but toys to dispose of when they've quite literally beaten the life out of them. Women like Mary, like Hiedi, aren't prepared for the years of mental and psychological damage they're left to deal with. That's why we have support teams who set them up with trauma specialists and do follow-up visits. But how does Dwyer know so much about how process?"

"You think he's working with someone on the inside?"

"No. He wouldn't trust anyone enough to give them access to his game, Masen. I think . . . I think he's a sociopath."

Edward's eyes widened. "We need to dig deeper into his life."

"Yes, we do." Bella tossed the rest of her drink back in one gulp. "But not tonight. We need to sleep. Tomorrow, we'll see Marcus Henderson and find out if he knows anything about Dwyer."

"Do you think he does?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he, too, is a sociopath." Bella hurried out of the booth. "You better check in with your sister, Masen. Don't want her to get worried and call your mother."

"Oh shit," he muttered, digging his phone from his pocket as he stood.

They rode the elevator to the fifth floor. He waited until she was inside her room before he went next door to his. Bella stripped off her clothes and took a hot shower, trying to work the tension out of her shoulders but gave up quickly.

She had just wrapped the towel around her when someone knocked on her door. Grabbing her gun off the bathroom vanity, she inhaled a slow, deep breath as she peered through the peek hole in the door. Not seeing anyone on the other side. Bella tightened her grip on her weapon as she flipped the lock and edged the door open.

Sitting on the ground was a long white box with at least a dozen Fire and Ice roses. The fiery red and orange pedals were edged in black. Her fingers trembled as she knelt and plucked the white, square card tucked under a bright red, satin ribbon.

"Soon, my love. So very, very soon."

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Big thank you to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing beta! See you next Monday!