Chapter Three

 

 

Calling her father went about as well as she’d thought it would. He’d gone into over-protective father mode in an instant. But J.T. calmed him down enough to keep Emma from ending up handcuffed to her father’s side for the next few weeks.

She had no doubt the two men she cared about the most in this world would be able to find the freak responsible for the note.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t half-tempted to hold her father’s hand until the scary time passed. Ironic, since she’d been separated from her father for fifteen years, only reuniting with him by accident when Kelly transferred to the same field office.

If holding her dad’s hand wasn’t an option, cuddling against J.T.’s chest probably wasn’t one, either. No matter how much she wanted exactly that. She looked at the two men.

They were a lot alike, in some ways. Both were about the same size and build. J.T.’s hair was blond and it sometimes looked like he’d forgotten to comb it. Her dad’s was a mix of gray and light red. J.T.’s eyes were a very pretty gray, when you looked closely. Her dad’s were the same green Emma saw in the mirror every morning. She and her sisters Kelly and Gracie had all inherited their father’s eyes—something their mother had hated about all three of them.

Her dad wore a suit, like he normally did. J.T. had on trousers and she suspected a sweater.

He wasn’t a classic jock good-looking kind of guy. J.T. was definitely the more bookish and sensitive type. That was one of the things she most loved about him.

He’d made a point of checking on her the day after Kelly was hurt—both times Kelly was hurt. And he’d answered her questions about why someone would do the evil things to her sister that Kelly hadn’t deserved. J.T. had been there the day she’d showed up on her dad’s doorstep with Gracie in tow. She’d actually kidnapped her sister that day, but it was the only way she’d known to help her family. Her true family, not her mother.

Emma had always known the father she’d not seen since she was very young was out there waiting for them after their mother had stolen them from him years ago.

Emma had never stopped looking. She’d checked the internet over and over, looking for some signs of who their father had been. Her mother had hidden their birth certificates and changed their names. All they had had to go on was Kelly’s memories of their father and the life they’d left behind. And Dan Reynolds, a cop, hadn’t been all that uncommon. Emma had been looking into another lead in Portland when her sister had called and said the man was alive in St. Louis.

Emma had been plotting how to rescue her younger sister Gracie from the boarding school her mother had stashed her in before Kelly’s call that day.

When their father’s location had been revealed to her, Emma had hopped into her car—dressed as her sister Kelly—and used Kelly’s FBI credentials to fool Gracie’s school into thinking she had permission to get Gracie.

Their mother had banned Emma from Gracie’s school the year before, because Emma had stood up to the woman yet again.

But all of that was behind them now. They had a good life and a great family in St. Louis with their father and his new wife. Ally and Kelly had actually been close friends before the forensics team transferred to St. Louis.

It had been a little difficult for Kelly to accept that her best friend and her father had gotten involved, especially so quickly. Add in Ally’s unexpected pregnancy that resulted in baby D.J. and baby Meghan, it had been a whammy for Kelly.

For Emma it had been perfect, a second chance at a real family for all of them. Gracie was happy, Emma was happy, Ally’s two kids from her first marriage were happy, and Emma thought Kelly was almost happy.

But their dad tended to be a little too overprotective sometimes. Of all of them.

He’d asked her four times if she was ok. And he’d hovered over Sam, the forensics tech, while she dusted the VW for prints.

“I don’t think we’ll get much from the outside of the car, or the tape. It’s too wet out now. We may get lucky on the inside of the car or the note. But to be honest, the guy was probably wearing gloves,’’ Sam said to J.T.

He’d stayed at Emma’s side the entire time she was explaining to her father what had happened. It had taken every bit of strength she had to pull her hand out of his before her father had arrived.

She didn’t know when it had first become clear to her how she felt about J.T. But she remembered the surprising rush of heat she’d felt the first time she’d hugged him. How perfect it had felt then.

He’d stiffened against her, then pulled away.

She’d never figured out why, unless he just didn’t like touched. She knew he wasn’t gay—he’d had dates since she’d met him—but he’d never turned his attention on her that way.

And she didn’t know what else to do to get his attention on her.

“Dad, I’ll be ok. I’m going to stay with J.T. He’s got plenty of room.”

“And I have plenty of time off. I’ll find this guy, Dan. You can count on that.”

“I’m trusting you with my baby, J.T. I don’t think there’s anything else I can say about that. I thought you had plans for your vacation?”

Emma looked at J.T. “I don’t want to mess with your plans. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t worry about it. I just plan to paint the rooms on the first floor of the house. The Glendowers had just gotten started rehabbing when I bought the place. And my dad is planning to come up to help in time for New Years. That’s still three weeks away.’’

“How did you get so much time off?”

“I saved it up. I never go on vacation—unless it’s to drive to my dad’s now and then. So I had the time. No big deal. But, I’m sure it won’t take that long to find this guy, Em. Most stalkers are pretty stupid, really.”

She’d avoided using that term to think about the person responsible. She didn’t want to think about someone stalking her. She shivered again, and wrapped her arms around her middle.

J.T. shocked her when he slipped out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. Emma pulled it tight and tried to forget that it smelled like him.

She had it bad for him, didn’t she? She’d thought she’d convinced herself to move on. Maybe not.

“I just want to find him and stop him before he does anything stupid.” Or evil or frightening or whatever. She tried to think of anyone she may have done something to, someone she may have met who would think this type of act was appropriate.

She couldn’t. “Dad? How much longer will this take? I want to get out of here.”

“I’ll have your car driven back to the house. You can ride with me. Get your things, eat dinner. Then I’ll drive you over to J.T.’s. Or J.T. can come over for dinner. How’s that sound, son?”

Her dad really liked J.T. and J.T.’s best friend Josh Compton. They’d been at his place grilling steaks the first time she’d met them. Or… trying to. J.T. was notoriously bad around anything involved with food prep.

One of the reasons she suspected he showed up at her dad’s around dinner time a few times each week.

Emma was always happiest on those nights. She’d never know when she’d come down the stairs and he’d be there. Her step-mother would just casually set another place at the table.

It was like J.T. belonged there.

That was probably how she’d fallen in love with him, wasn’t it?

He’d be there, talking computers with her step-brother Ryan, or letting her step-sister Aislin crawl all over him. Or paint his nails bright orange.

That was probably it.

J.T. knew what it was like to be a real part of a family, though she knew his mother had died a few years earlier and his younger sister lived on the East Coast. He was comfortable with her family, from infants up to her dad. He fit.

And she’d been attracted to him for a very, very long time. He wasn’t like the men she met at school. They were mostly her age or a little older, but J.T. was almost thirty. He was established in his career, successful, and he was comfortable with who he was. Unlike the guys in her pre-law and political sciences classes. They were often competitive, with one another and with the women in the classes. And they were full of talks about their plans, what firms they were hoping to get in with. Somedays and maybes.

She knew what her plans for post-graduation were. She’d had them since she’d first met her Aunt Gretchen. Her dad’s sister was ten years younger than her dad and had spent the last fifteen years looking for lost kids. That business had morphed into helping families separated for whatever reason reunite.

Aunt Gretch had offered Emma a position as partner in the company she’d founded, on the condition that Emma graduated with honors from college. One day, she’d said, the business would be Emma’s, as Gretchen had never had children.

It was a cause so dear to her heart.

Maybe that’s what it was—the guys she kept running into around campus were too young in experience for her. Because of what her past had been like? Because of the uncertainty of living with an abusive parent?

Had one of those guys thought the rose and note were a great joke to play on her to get her attention?

She’d been asked out by quite a few of her male classmates, but had always turned them down. She’d made it very clear she wasn’t interested in relationships right then, that her career came first.

Had someone thought she didn’t mean it? Why were they doing this?