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today.”
    I showed him the e-mail from Georgia. It was really hard to stay quiet while he read it. It wasn’t a long e-mail but it seemed to take him forever to read it. He asked me a few questions about whether I had seen anything strange or noticed anyone strange. I had seen no one. With how paranoid I have been recently I am pretty sure I would have noticed if a strange bug was hanging around, let alone a person. He asked where my e-mail address might be posted and how fans usually contacted me. This was Jack the FBI agent at work now, all business. Our tense personal emotions had been set aside. After all his questions he got up and got ready to leave.
    “I’ll talk to my supervisor about this and get him to open a case on Georgia. I’ll have my tech guy trace the e-mail.” He looked at me and smiled, “And yes I’ll let you know if I find out anything.” He answered the question I hadn’t asked. He knows me so well.
    I walked him out, Max had to go outside for a walk anyway. Once Max was done and we were ready to go back inside, Jack stopped me with a hand to my arm.
    “Be careful, Char. I kind of like seeing you around.”
    I smiled and returned the sentiment. Jack left. Back inside the house I locked the door behind me and set the alarm for the night. I felt much calmer and safer knowing that Jack was involved. When I went to bed that night I didn’t expect a peaceful night’s sleep. I also didn’t expect what I got.
    ______
    I sat in a café. My body went through the motions of sipping tea. Across the table sat a woman in an exceptional red suit with long brown hair. I couldn’t see her face. Manicured blood red finger nails tapped on the side of her tea cup.
    I looked around the café. Every patron there was staring at my companion and I. Every patron was dead. I recognized faces. They were the twenty-three murdered girls. Emily and Pheares sat at the table closest to us.
    My companion put her tea cup down with a gentle clack.
    “Charlotte.”
    I looked around for who spoke.
    “Charlotte, Jack first.”
    My attention snapped back to the person across the table.
    “Jack first, then you.”
    ______
    When I woke up I dismissed the dream as just another nightmare, a product of my wild imagination. My subconscious didn’t want to lose Jack. We may be awkward right now, but I really cared about him. I was paranoid that I might lose him, end of the story.
    That thought carried me through the majority of the day. Every time I thought of Georgia I told myself that I didn’t have to worry. She couldn’t hurt me. She certainly couldn’t hurt Jack. After all, he was FBI. I practiced the art of denial. I didn’t have any training commitments that day so I had way too much time on my hands. I tried to write, but my thoughts were distracted. I couldn’t get more than a few words down at a time. Too much time to think can be a dangerous thing for me, and what I did next was colossally stupid.
    I logged into my e-mail and sent Georgia a reply.
    Georgia,
    I guess you could say killing Pheares inspired me. I certainly sleep better at night. Catching you though, will bring me more than inspiration.
    Sincerely,

Charlotte Marshall
    It was not my wisest moment. It might have been the match that lit a fire.

 
    Chapter 8
    I spent the rest of the day alternating between writing and looking for Jimmy from the Find Me case. Erin forwarded me all the contact numbers on file. I made call after call trying to piece together his last twenty-four hours. I added a few more points of interest to Jimmy’s timeline. He was at work until six-thirty p.m. on April 8 th . He drove straight home and had dinner with his family. He went for a run around the neighborhood at about eight-thirty. Then, according to his wife’s statement, he watched some TV and was in bed by eleven. The next morning he woke up at five-thirty and did all of those normal things you do to get ready: shower, breakfast etc. He left for the city at seven. He