"That was it, that was the last straw."
Thomas Carter

I groan. Another Monday morning, I sit at the kitchen bar with my hands wrapped around my warm coffee mug. So much has happened recently that my head is spinning. What started as a simple vetting of construction companies turned into reopening a cold murder case and possibly solving a missing person's mystery.

This morning, Sam left to meet with a detective at the Ventura County Sheriff's Department concerning the unidentified body that resembles Gregory Wallace. The Sheriff's Department was willing to send the case file to Sam, but he didn't want to wait. Instead, Sam preferred to drive to Ventura County to pick up the file as soon as possible. I don't blame him; he wants these cases solved as much as I do.

This predicament is not how I wanted to begin our lives living together. This dark cloud is looming over me because of these cases. I realize that I provoked the unsub while investigating. I only wish that I knew what the unsub thinks I know. He must believe I'm closer to figuring out his identity than I am.

The unsub himself is the one who is leading us right to him. How could he have been so stupid to leave behind so many clues at my dad's farm? I'm thinking, pretty damn absurd. Injuring Frank was the last straw. All he ended up doing was pissing off the wrong people. We'll find you, asshole!

Waiting for the forensic results is agonizing because I know those findings are crucial to cracking this case wide open. I'm so close to the answers; I can feel it. However, patience was never a virtue of mine. Another attribute that I share with my dad.

I take a long sip of my sweet morning nectar and attempt to unscramble the foggy morning thoughts running rampant in my mind. I'm hoping that the caffeine will help me with the process. A few moments later, I reach the bottom of my mug with my mind still cloudy. Maybe a shower will help.

While my shower was refreshing and helped with the morning cobwebs, it wasn't enough to think more clearly about the case. So, I push my thoughts of the case aside. I fill my travel mug to prepare for the drive to work.

Sam had asked Pete to come and follow me to work this morning since Sam would be out of town. I attempted to explain to Sam that it was unnecessary to have an escort to work, but he insisted. I didn't put up a fight. If I was honest with myself, I felt safer knowing that Pete would be right behind me in his police cruiser.

I hear a knock at the door.

I call out, "I'll be right there, Pete."

I place the lid on my travel mug, grab my computer case and purse off the counter, and reach the door. I peek out of the peephole to verify that Pete is behind the door. I smile when I see him standing there patiently waiting for me. I unlock the door and open it to Pete's bright smile.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" I greet him sarcastically.

Pete laughs, "Someone has to be, Miss Grumpy Pants."

"Seriously, Pete, I appreciate that you're going out of your way to escort me to work, " I admit.

"It's not a problem, Cindy. I don't mind at all, not to mention that Millie would have my head if I refused and something happened to you."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Nothing will happen to me." I know that I sound like a child, but the independent, self-sufficient woman in me is getting tired of everyone trying to protect me.

Pete raises his brow and gives me a look that tells me my statement is ridiculous. "I'm not sure why you take this so lightly, Cindy. You know there are lunatics out there who will stop at nothing to save themselves from going to prison. You and Sam hit a nerve with this guy, and for some reason, he has his panties in a bunch over you. Millie and I would love it if you dropped your investigation and left it to the police to handle."

I go to retort, but Pete puts his hand up, stopping the words from my mouth.

"Let me finish." He rubs the back of his neck before continuing. "However, we know that investigating is in your blood. We love you and want you to be careful. Can you promise not to take the threats lightly and do everything you can to keep yourself safe? That includes allowing me to escort you to work without a fuss."

I pull Pete into a hug. "I promise."

He gives me a gentle squeeze before releasing me. "Shall we?"

Pete offers me his arm. I chuckle at his chivalry and take it as he walks me to my car.

"I already checked for a GPS locator bug, but I didn't find one. So, you're good to go," Pete explains as he opens the door for me.

"Thank you, kind sir."

I sit behind the steering wheel, and he gives me a wink before shutting my door. I start my car and wait for Pete to get into his cruiser. I pull out of the driveway with Pete hot on my tail.

My day was uneventful. Benson was out meeting with Frank Reed from Big Dog Contracting at the Bailey Project job site since this morning.

I was catching up on some projects that I had put aside to vet the construction companies for the Bailey Project when my phone rang.

"Hello, this is Cindy Powell. How can I help you?"

"Hi Cindy, this is Carla from Big Dog Contracting. Mr. Easton wanted me to call you and ask you to bring a set of blueprints he forgot on his desk to our office."

"Of course, please tell him I'm on my way. Thanks, Carla."

"You're welcome. I'll make sure to inform Mr. Easton."

I close my laptop and grab my purse. I locate the rolled-up blueprints on Benson's desk and pick them up. I started to head out of the door when it struck me that I was going out on my own. I dropped everything on Benson's desk and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I dialed Sam's number, which went right to voicemail, so I left him a message.

"Hi, Babe. I wanted to let you know that I have to leave the office alone to take some blueprints to Benson. I'm going to the Big Dog Contracting office and returning here. I'm sure everything will be fine, but I just wanted you to know where I am. I love you! Bye."

I checked to ensure my GPS tracking App was enabled before I gathered everything that I placed on Benson's desk and made my way out of the office. Liza was not at her desk, so I left her a quick note before taking the elevator to the parking garage.

My trip to Big Dog was uneventful. I kept looking into the rearview mirror to ensure no one followed me. Finally, I pulled into the lot and parked my car; the locks automatically unlocked. I glanced around and didn't see Benson's truck. I immediately got an uneasy feeling. Before I could shift the car into reverse, a man jumped into the passenger side of my vehicle and shoved a gun into my ribcage.

"Drive."