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Our local guy—new and almost useless—didn’t have a clue as to how to proceed, they’re flying a guru down from Quantico ASAP. It’s password protected. But there is all this stuff that was printed off. What do you make of it?’ Fred scanned the dozen or so pages. ‘It’s all jihad stuff. There doesn’t seem to be any meat here, just slogan and exhortations. It’s extreme radical shit. ‘Death to America’ and all that. That’s not to say there isn’t a coded message built in there somewhere but I’m not a cryptographer. On the other hand, as repetitive as some of the phrasing is, I’d bet there’s a message somewhere. Who exactly is the unsub here?’ ‘The guy who drove into your front yard—almost certainly. The dead woman was his mother. The man who lived here was her husband but not the boy’s father. He packed up and left about a week ago. We don’t think he is involved but sense that he got fed up and just left her. We have a search out for the husband. It shouldn’t take long. He wasn’t trying to. I love you, too.” When she hung up and looked at Orrin, with that smile that made his heart leap, “Were you getting ready to ask me something?” “No. I was just wanted to see if the flowers were okay,” he said. “Well, I think they’re fine, Orrin,” she said and went back to her computer. Orrin stood at the edge of her desk and looked at the yellow daisies and the red zinnias, then at Emily. He stood there with his hands in my pocket. After a minute, she turned to face him, “What’s wrong, Orrin?” “Nothing, Emily. Nothing’s wrong.” He glanced over at Gloria standing at the filing cabinet. She turned and looked at Orrin, and then at Emily. Orrin took a deep breath and stood there wishing he could think of something to say, but he couldn't. His mind was clay. Emily turned back to her computer and continued what she was doing. Orrin hated how shy and awkward he was around her. He knew it was stupid to ask her if she wanted gum, but he never knew what to say. If only I could get her to.
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