Page 25 of Choose Me

It was around lunchtime, and I was in the office flipping through page after page of case notes and tips about Margaret's last known acquaintances and sightings. I'll give her one thing: she was good at hiding and even better at moving around, making it next to impossible to find her. Brock had led a small team to investigate an abandoned building that someone said they saw her squatting in so I could be available for Ava during her doctor's appointment to check on the baby. My happy mood was soured when Brock stomped into the office, his face red and yelling at someone on the other end of his cell phone. I could feel my frustration growing as I listened to Brock's phone call.

"What do you mean the video footage disappeared?" he snarled into the phone. "Do you have any idea how important this is? We can't keep letting her slip through our fingers! Get your ass back to the office and find her!"

He slammed his phone shut, then turned to me with a defeated expression on his face. "Margaret's on the move again. We lost her trail, and the dipshit in IT says the video footage of her last known location was misplaced."

"Fuck. We're never going to find her at this rate. What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

Brock shrugged. "I don't know. We've got people searching all over Miami for her, but she's like a damn ghost."

I paced back and forth behind my desk, my mind racing and a headache forming behind my eyes. I slammed my fists against the desk, feeling my anger boil over. This case was getting to me in ways I never imagined. Ava needed me more than ever, and I was stuck getting repeatedly fucked in the ass by my boss, forced to stay here chasing after someone that didn't affect my life in Manhattan with Ava. Margaret was just a little girl that was seriously fucked up in the head like her brother, playing hide and seek with the FBI, wasting resources that could go toward solving cases that mattered.

I was at my wit's end--Commons still hadn't popped his ugly head up in Manhattan, and my patience was wearing thin. I felt like a batter stranded in the middle of an endless strike-out streak, throwing caution to the wind in a desperate attempt to make something stick out of the continuous stream of false and dead-end information coming in.

"I feel like a mouse in a maze looking for the cheese at the finish line." I slumped into my chair and pushed my hands against my eyes in frustration.

"I'm sorry, man. We have the best team on this, and I am actually kind of embarrassed that she still hasn't been caught." Brock pulled up a chair to sit in front of me, his face pressed into a frown of regret, his eyes drooping with sorrow.

This case also took a toll on him for different reasons than mine. I had worked with Brock for years before being recruited into the FBI, and he was my closest friend inside and outside the Bureau. Brock had always been the 'mother hen' on the team when we were still a part of the Seals. He was the member of our team that always made sure our ops were planned to the point of annoyance. He was meticulous in double-checking every minuscule detail, leaving nothing up to chance. He always reminded us that chance got people killed. Logistically, he was a genius. Spiritually, he was one of the most loyal and compassionate humans I had ever worked with. He prided himself on perfection, and this case was anything but perfect. Even his unwavering focus and attention to detail couldn't get us any closer to catching Margaret.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. "I just can't shake this feeling that we're missing something. Something big."

Brock nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean."

I stood from my chair and walked to the window, staring at the bustling city below. The answer was there. We had missed something. We needed to look at this from a different angle because she could predict our every move. And short of this being a breach in the Bureau like in Oregon, we were missing something that I knew would lead us right to her.

"Let's start from the beginning and run through everything we have again," I slammed the case files onto the table and sat next to Brock, cracking open the first file the FBI had started on The Callahan siblings.

14

FOURTEEN

AVA

I lay sprawled on the couch, and my swollen feet ached in protest of being pregnant. I ordered Chinese food and was watching reruns of Gossip Girl on the TV. Everett was working late, and I was too tired to do anything. Once I hit the third trimester, it felt like the beginning of the pregnancy all over again. As I finished my last bite of chow mein, the doorbell rang, followed by a series of sharp knocks. I checked my phone to see what time it was --7:49 p.m.-- I had no idea who would be stopping by.

Everett usually worked late since James was gone, so I didn't expect him for another hour or two. It was an odd time to have a social call, and James had not texted me since lunch. My swollen feet ached as I tiptoed to the door, squinting through the peephole, and saw a slender woman with brown hair slicked back into a tight bun and a big red bag slung over her left shoulder. She had one hand on her hip and reached out to ring the doorbell impatiently.

I hesitated momentarily before opening the door and debated whether I should open it, but this woman's impatience made me think it might be important. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place her. "Can I help you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ava!" She squealed in delight before embracing me in an overly tight hug. As she pulled away, she cradled my stomach lovingly, and I felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness washing over me. She seemed to pick up on this. The uncomfortable look that spread across my face probably didn’t help.

Her expression softened. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I'm Amelia. James's sister! He didn't tell you I was coming by?" She stammered apologetically.

I shook my head in confusion.

"Shit. Well, this is awkward. You probably think I am a crazy person. I'm going to kill him."

Unsure of what to do, I finally squeaked out an invitation. "Uhm, do you want to come in?" I asked, trying to sound friendly.

"Yes! Thank you." She eagerly accepted my invitation, and I led her into the living room. I sat back on the couch, and she perched on the edge of the armchair opposite me, still looking slightly embarrassed.

"So, how are you feeling?" Amelia asked, her eyes softening with concern. "James told me everything, and I can only imagine how tough it must be, being pregnant and dealing with him not being here while some creep is sending you threats. I'm sorry I didn't come to meet and check on you sooner. I've been out of the country for six months on a tour with my ballet company."

I relaxed slightly as her kind words flowed over me. Even though I never met her and was completely surprised by her visit, having someone who reminded me of James was nice. She had his eyes--the same fierceness raging inside the dark blue depths.

"Other than the swelling in my feet, I'm feeling okay. I am starting to get tired, but the baby is growing as expected, and so far, everything looks good."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

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