"Taking time to do nothing often brings everything into perspective."
Doe Zantamata

I'm helping Sam pack his bag for his trip to Los Angeles and attempt to keep his mind off of leaving me by asking him about his case.

"The suspect you're apprehending for the murder of his wife doesn't seem to be the brightest bulb in the circuit."

Sam laughs, "That, my love, is an understatement. He's not just leaving us breadcrumbs; he is practically drawing us a map."

"I'm sure it's nice to have a case that investigates itself," I reply while hugging his waist from behind.

He turns to embrace me fully. "It is. Since running from the crime scene, he's used his credit card at gas stations, restaurants, and hotels. He left us a paper trail that has ended in Los Angeles. I'm going to nail his ass and bring him back here to face justice, and I'll do it as quickly as possible so I can get back to you."

Sam lifts my chin and kisses me softly. "I wish I had time to take this kiss further, but I must go."

"I know. I love you, Sam."

"I love you, too. This weekend can't get here fast enough." He gives me one last squeeze. "I promise I'll be back by Friday for Saturday's move-in day. Thank you for taking today and tomorrow off of work to visit your dad. I feel so much better about leaving, knowing that you'll be with him."

We kiss again before he picks up his bag. I grab my bag, too, and we leave together. Sam is heading North to Los Angeles. I am driving out of the city to my dad's place.

Sam hesitates a moment before getting into his car. "Lock your car doors, be safe, and whatever you do, don't stop till you reach your dad's."

"I'll be safe, lock my doors, and not stop for anything but red lights and stop signs."

Satisfied with my answer, Sam gets into his car. He waits for me to pull away before pulling out behind me.

I look forward to spending time with my dad, doing nothing except getting his perspective on this ordeal.

An hour later, I arrived at my dad's gentleman's farm in Fall Brook. He retired here shortly after leaving the force. When I see the small farmhouse, I'm heartbroken at the thought of my mother never living out her dream of moving out of the city. She wanted to retire on a farmette with a large garden, chickens, and goats. She passed away suddenly from a heart attack a few months before my father retired. He made it his mission to live out her dream.

As I park, I see the front door open. Sherlock and Clueless come barreling out of the door ahead of my father. He adopted the two Border collies shortly after purchasing the farmette. He gets a kick from watching them keep the goats and chickens corraled. I sent Sam a quick text letting him know that I arrived safe and sound before getting out of my car.

"Hey guys," I reach down and scratch behind the excited pups' ears.

"Okay, okay, my turn." Dad pushes the dogs out of the way and hugs me.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Dee."

My dad began calling me Dee when I was a curious young girl. Dee is short for Detective. I always had to work through the what's, why's, who's, and how's. It's why Dad thought I would follow in his footsteps and become a detective.

Dad immediately says, "Did you bring the note?"

"I did."

He releases me and grabs my bag out of the back seat. He places his free arm protectively around my shoulders, and we enter the house with Sherlock and Clueless hot on our trail.

Once inside, my dad runs my bag upstairs to the guest room. I head into the kitchen for a drink.

"Want a beer?" I call out to my dad.

He enters the kitchen with his palm over his chest, looking wounded. "Why did you feel the need to ask me that? It's like you don't even know me."

I laugh at his ridiculousness and hand him a beer. "My sincerest apologies."

"Come, let's sit and look at that note."

I grab the black powdered stained envelope from my purse, join my dad at the table, and hand it to him.

"Fingerprints?"

I sigh, "Just mine."

"Hmmm, and no postage marks means it's hand-delivered."

"Correct; Sam has Pete checking nearby surveillance cameras for evidence."

We both sip our beer while my dad continues to inspect the note. He looks up at me. "Is there any way you'll let me handle these investigations for you?"

I raise my brows. "What do you think?"

Dad puts up his hands in surrender. "A father can ask. I do agree with you and Sam on the timing of the note. Someone doesn't want you investigating the Greg Wallace missing person's case or the mystery body found on Big Dog's construction site. What I do find intriguing is that the unsub left the note at Sam's house, not at your townhouse."

I finish off my beer. "Sam and I wondered the same thing. Only a handful of people know I'm moving in, and it's not official till Saturday."

My dad furrows his brows. "That can only mean one thing."

"What's that, Dad?"

"The unsub followed you to Sam's."

I grimace. "That has to be it. I'm sure it's why I'm here. Sam doesn't want to take the chance of them following me without having someone around who can protect me. Although, he should know that you taught me to defend myself."

Dad places his hand on mine. "He knows, Dee. I understand his thinking because I feel the same way that Sam feels. I know that I taught you to defend yourself, but it doesn't keep me from wanting to protect you."

I nod. "I get it. That's why I didn't fight Sam on this."

"If you would have, I would've come to you. There's no way you'll be out of either of our sight till we catch the person who wrote this note."

My dad's look of concern rattles me a little. He usually supports my independence by letting me handle my problems. That this situation is worrying him so much is making me uneasy.

My dad suddenly pushes his chair away from the table and stands. "Hungry?"

I smile. Yes, I am."

He opens the fridge and pulls out all the fixings for a sandwich. "Ham or turkey?"

"Turkey, please." I stand to help him make lunch.

"Sit, Dee, I can handle making you a sandwich." He hands me a beer as I sit down.

"Thanks, Dad."

We enjoy our lunch by steering our conversation away from my threatening letter.

A little over an hour later, Sam calls me.

I quickly answer, "Hey, Babe."

"Hi."

Los Angeles is about two hours away from San Diego. You'd think Sam would drive each way instead of staying overnight. However, Los Angeles' traffic is no joke. He works late and starts work early when he's on a case. He waits to wrap up the investigation, not waste his time on the road.

"I wanted to let you know that we arrived at the location where the suspect has been staying. He's not here, so we'll wait until he comes. The sooner, the better."

"That sounds boring. Who's with you?"

"Detective Evans from the LAPD. Lucky for me, he's a funny guy. It'll be very entertaining, trust me."

"Good. I love you, Sam. Be safe."

"Always. Tell Jerry I said hello."

I call out to my dad, who's busy doing the dishes, "Sam says hello."

"Hi, Sam," my dad calls back.

"Did you hear that?"

"I did. I have to go, Cindy. Evans is coming back with lunch. I love you and will call you tonight when I get settled."

I hear a car door open and close. "Bye, Sam."

Dad dries his hands. "Would you like to walk down the lane with me to get my mail?"

"Sure, I would love that."

It's a mile walk down my dad's lane to the main road where his mailbox stands.

As soon as the dogs hear the screen door open, they practically run us over, trying to beat us outside.

"Damn, pups, settle down," Dad laughs as he swats playfully at their backsides.

The dogs run circles around us the entire way down the lane. I trip over Clueless twice, almost falling face-first into the dirt.

I'm glad that I decided to come to my dad's. It's nice feeling carefree and escaping the stress of my job.

We reach the end of the lane, laughing when the dogs take off after the rowdy goats.

My dad mindlessly reaches into his mailbox; his laugh abruptly stops when he pulls out a plain envelope with my name written on the front.

My hand flies to my mouth as I gasp in shock.