Page 82 of Obsession

“Want me to tag along?”

“I, ah, don’t think he invited you.”

“Well, just be careful. We still don’t know who’s stalking you.”

“I should be safe enough with Corey Chandler—heisan attorney.”

“So was Ted Bundy.”

“No, I don’t think Bundy ever earned a law degree,” she said. “Have you checked on the ring?”

“I did, and both the university and the ring company said they would get back to me,” he said. “I also talked to the FBI office in Jackson. They didn’t investigate Mary Jo’s death.”

“Why not?”

“They rarely get involved in a local murder unless there’s a compelling reason, and Carter convinced them he had it under control,” he said. “What time are you taking your cat to the vet?”

“Nine forty-five, but why don’t I take an Uber and free you up?”

“There’s no need for that. I took the morning off so I could take you. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out and about by yourself until we catch whoever is stalking you.”

“You can’t go everywhere with me. Besides, so far he hasn’t attacked me during the day.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t. I’ll pick you up at nine thirty.”

“Yes, sir.” Emma was relieved she didn’t have to arrange for different transportation. An Uber might not like having a cat for a passenger.

At ten thirty, the vet visit was behind them, and the vet had confirmed that Suzy was indeed a female and about three months old. When they returned to the apartment, Sam installed a new doorbell that included a camera. “Now you should be able to see and record anyone who rings your doorbell.”

“Thank you.” She hesitated, then asked, “Are we going to interview the Selbys today?”

“I am, but you’re not.”

“Why not? I have a vested interest in this.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re not in law enforcement.”

“But I have a stake in this.”

“If the Selbys believe your brother killed their daughter, they may refuse to talk if you’re with me.”

Emma considered that and tried to recall how much contact she’d had with Mary Jo’s parents. The only time she’d met them was at their daughter’s funeral, and she doubted they even noticed her. “Maybe they won’t remember me, and if you don’t tell them my last name...”

“That would be lying.”

“No, it would be misdirection. Cops do it all the time on TV.”

“Come on, Emma, this isn’t some TV show. They’ll know who you are anyway—you and Mary Jo were in the same class.”

“But Mary Jo and I never hung out together—she was part of the ‘in’ crowd, and I wasn’t, and I played volleyball and she played basketball. She was a cheerleader and played in the band, and I did neither—we didn’t interact that much ...” Sam was not leaving her out of the visit to the Selbys. Emma fisted her good hand on her hip. “With or without you, I’m going to talk to the Selbys,” she said and walked to the hallway.

“Where are you going?”

She lifted her chin. “To change into my uniform.”

When he tried to stare her down, she refused to look away. Finally, he palmed his hands. “Okay. But it’s just this one time. After this, you’ll leave the investigating to me.”

Emma didn’t know about that. She let the comment slide and hurried to her bedroom, where she struggled out of the leggings and into her uniform. The brace made buttoning the shirt almost impossible. Gritting her teeth, she ripped the brace off and buttoned her shirt, the movement sending pain up her arm. Whydidn’t they use snaps instead of buttons? Once she was dressed, she returned to the living room and held out the wrist contraption. “Would you mind?”

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