J acob left Emma dozing in her room. He cracked the door so he could check in on her without disturbing her. He couldn’t imagine the kind of torment she must be going through. She was holding it together well enough. At least she wasn’t afraid, though once the anger burned out of her she might be. His phone vibrated, right on time. Jacob tip-toed barefoot through the living room, scooping up the clear plastic gallon-sized bag he’d gathered all the paper bits into and his boots. He let himself out of the house and found himself face to face with Special Agent Mullins. “How’s she doing?” The agent slid his phone into his trouser pocket. “Sleeping.” He handed the letter over. “I pieced the words together. It says, ‘I did it for you.’” “Damn.” Mullins thumped the plastic with his finger. “Your little lady might still be connected, then?” Jacob shrugged. He’d never doubted Emma’s potential as a target in all of this.
