Page 55 of Criminology of a Character

“Oh god.”

“He photographed each victim after they died before moving them into the background with the rest,” Bel said. “Our techs are going to comb through his computer records. They believe we’ll find proof that he accessed Walker’s accounts to pay his bills, but even if they don’t, the photographs are undeniable evidence that he killed those girls.”

“All because a hyper Jerry made Eamon nervous,” Griffin said. “If not for him, we wouldn’t have suspected a cameraman. I’m going to have to thank him.”

“Don’t look so excited.” Bel smirked, and her boss rolled his eyes. “And he mentioned it to protect me. He doesn’t want thanks. He just wants me safe.”

“So I break into a house without a warrant and almost get you killed. Maybe I shouldn’t talk to him.”

“We all know I’m half to blame,” Bel said. “When do I ever let things go?”

Griffin burst into laughter. “I hate how much I care about you because you are my best detective and cop. You’re fearless—a little too much sometimes—but that’s what makes you great at this job. Fearless isn’t a trait I want for those I love, though. You solve cases, yet I’m always scared for you, so I’m sorry about putting you in that position today.”

“You were the one that got hurt.”

“I don’t have kids, so I forget you aren’t my daughter. I don’t like putting you in harm’s way. It’s tough when your detectives start feeling like family… hey, don’t cry.” He pulled his hand out of hers and wiped her cheeks.

“I love you, and I’m really glad you didn’t die today.” Bel collapsed against his chest and wrapped her arms around her boss. “Never scare me like that again.”

“I’ll try.” He ran his fingers over her hair. “But I expect the same. You’re always giving me a heart attack.”

“I probably always will.”

“I unfortunately believe you,” he chuckled. “It’s late, and I’m sure Eamon is worried about you, but before I let you go, we need to talk about something.”

“Sure.” Bel sat up and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“It’s standard procedure, but whenever an officer fires their weapon and there’s a death, an investigation is conducted,” he said. “I’m not worried. Killing Frost was self-defense. One look at that wall will prove it, but I can’t return until they clear me. They’ll also want to talk to you.”

“I’ll tell them exactly what happened. We had probable cause to enter the residence, but he opened fire before we could rescue Sarah Bristol.”

“You don’t have to lie for me,” Griffin said.

“I won’t,” Bel said. “We found that earring, which saved that girl’s life. Frost killed forty-three people that we know of. Because of us, that number isn’t forty-four.”

“The NYPD lost a great treasure in you, but I’ll never give you back.” Griffin squeezed her hand as his wife returned with coffee and assorted vending machine snacks.

“With the rate Bajka’s going, you can’t give me back.” Bel smirked as she stood.

“Valid point. Do me a favor. Look after the station until I’m cleared to return.”

“Will do.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek before hugging his wife. “Have a good night. I’ll check on you in the morning.”

“Get some rest, Emerson.”

Bel waved over her shoulder as she left the room. She’d called Eamon earlier so he wouldn’t learn of the shooting on the news, but he was with a client. He was hours away, and she prayed he was almost home. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his bed and pretend only he and her dog existed for the next few hours.

“My daughter? Where’s my daughter!” a hysterical woman screamed as she burst through the hospital doors, her frantic husband hard on her heels, and while the poor women at the hospital’s front entrance had no clue who the panicked mother was, Bel recognized her instantly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bristol.” She strode toward the couple. Sleep would have to wait. “My name is Detective Isobel Emerson.”

“Oh god.” Mrs. Bristol seized her husband’s forearm. “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re the cop who found my baby.”

“I am,” she said, but the words were barely out of her mouth before Mrs. Bristol launched herself at her. The mother pulled her into a powerful embrace as she sobbed, and Bel didn’t care that she’d have to lie about hearing Sarah scream to justify their entrance. This was worth it. This moment when a mom learned her child was alive.

“I can take you to her.” She hugged the woman back.

“Is she okay?” Mrs. Bristol asked. “She’s okay, right?”

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