The Agent's Redemption (Special Agents At The Altar 4) by LISA CHILDS Page A

energy. “Why are you up still?” He glanced down again at the open plastic tub. “What are you doing?”
    Had she found something that had scared her?
    “I read through Lexi’s journal for the year that the picture of her and Amy was taken—”
    “The year she disappeared,” he interjected. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. “I looked through that journal earlier and saw no mention of Amy’s name.”
    “Neither did I,” she said. “But Lexi liked to give nicknames to people she cared about. I think she gave Amy a nickname based on her initials.”
    She held out the journal to him, and he read the section she indicated. “Root Beer,” he murmured.
    Becca nodded.
    “Her family didn’t call her that.”
    “My parents didn’t call me Becca—only Lexi did.”
    He had used it, too. He still thought of her as Becca. And he thought of her always.
    “Lexi liked special nicknames,” she said with a smile. But then her smile faded and she added, “She didn’t have a nickname for Harris, though.” She pointed to the section of the journal again, and her finger trembled. “He killed Amy, too.”
    If only it was that easy to find a killer.
    He pointed out, “This isn’t evidence of that.”
    “But it proves that he met her.”
    “It proves he met someone Lexi called Root Beer,” he said. “We don’t know that it was really Amy Wilcox.”
    She shook her head as if disgusted. “I should have known better than to think you would listen to me.”
    “I will investigate,” he promised. “I will talk to Harris.” He hadn’t been able to find any connection between Harris and the other women who had disappeared. But he had a connection now—however tenuous—between him and Amy Wilcox. He could bring him in for questioning again.
    But was he doing it to solve the case? Or just to make Becca happy? Since Harris hadn’t killed Lexi, why would he have killed any of the other women—even Amy?
    Becca breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” But the tension didn’t ease from her body. She was still trembling slightly.
    “If I didn’t scare you earlier,” he said, “what did?” And what still had her so on edge?
    “I got a phone call shortly after you left—”
    “One of those damn reporters?” They had all been staked out at the crime scene and the Wilcoxes’ house. But one of them—probably Kyle Smith—could have called her from there.
    She shook her head. “Not a reporter. I don’t know who it was, but he called me Becca. And he warned me that someone’s watching me—that I’m in danger.”
    Fear clutched his heart. “Why would someone tell you that? Why would someone want to scare you like that?” Unless it was true...
    And if it was true, he couldn’t take any chances. “I’m staying here,” he said. “I’m staying with you until I can get protection duty on you and Alex.”
    “Isn’t protection duty how you got your concussion?” she asked. But she didn’t argue with him about staying. She opened a closet and pulled down a pillow and a blanket.
    “I won’t need that,” he said. Because he wouldn’t be sleeping. He’d nearly been killed the last time he’d done protection duty. But that wouldn’t happen this time. He wouldn’t drop his guard for a second—now that he was protecting his family.
    * * *
    T HE RUMBLE OF a deep voice jerked Rebecca awake, her pulse racing. She wasn’t afraid because she didn’t recognize the voice but because she did. She’d heard that voice in her dreams before. How had she fallen asleep with Jared in her house?
    But then she probably wouldn’t have slept at all if he hadn’t stayed.
You’re being watched...you need to be careful...
    That ominous warning echoed in her mind. But with Jared watching over her and Alex, she’d felt safe. Until now.
    Now she had that eerie feeling that she was being watched again. She glanced toward the door. She’d thought she had shut it, but it was cracked open now—wide enough that two pairs