She was really making this difficult. “Naomi, I have good news.”
“Really?” she raised a doubtful eyebrow.
“Jonathon and Allina found the man who shot you. He’s committed three other muggings over the last two months.”
Relief washed over her face. “So it’s over?”
Sam immediately realized his mistake. He should have worded things more carefully. He hadn’t meant to be misleading. “Not all of it. Jonathon doesn’t think that the man who shot you is the same man who’s been threatening you. I'm sorry, Naomi, I should have been clearer. But the man who shot at you in the parking lot at work is in custody, he can't hurt you or anyone else again.”
“But he isn’t the man who killed Nicole?”
“They don’t think so.”
“Are they sure?”
“Not positive but fairly sure. Do you know anyone by the name of Lennox Tyson?”
Naomi shook her head.
“He says he doesn’t know you either, and his name isn’t in our database so he didn’t come across you at work. But sometimes stalkers just latch on to someone after a chance meeting or encounter, so we don’t know for sure yet that he isn’t the man who’s been threatening you. Right now, it just doesn’t look like he has any reason to be harassing you. Especially since the picture that was left with your friend was of you as a child. It just makes sense that it’s someone who knew you back then, otherwise how would they have access to your childhood pictures.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s forty-four. Which would have made him twenty-two at the time of the fire,” he said cautiously.
Naomi froze at the mention of the fire. Then abruptly jumped to her feet and turned on her heel to leave.
She wasn't fleeing this time. He’d given her space after Jonathon and Allina interviewed her, but that was over. Now they needed to talk about it. Snapping a hand around her wrist he held her in place. “Sit down, Naomi,” he ordered.
“Sam.” Her fearful whimper almost had him backing down.
“You know we need to talk about it,” he said firmly.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with this,” she protested. She wasn't trying to move, but she hadn’t sat either.
“You don’t know that. The photo he chose is from just before the fire, and earlier when Jonathon and Allina were here you remembered something.”
“I didn’t,” she contradicted but without any real conviction.
“Don’t lie to me, Naomi. I don’t like that. You know something, I need to know what it is.” When she didn’t say anything he pushed harder. “This is yourlifewe’re talking about, and the lives of everyone you care about. Now what do you know?”
“I told you it doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening now.”
“How can you know that?”
She sighed tiredly. “I just do. Trust me.”
He did. Sam also had a feeling that whatever she was refusing to tell him wasn't directly related to the fire. Maybe it had something to do with family dynamics. Being the product of an affair was a rough way to grow up. Moving in with her stepfather’s parents had probably exacerbated things, especially on the back of such a traumatic experience. “You never talk about it, Naomi,” he said quietly.
“What’s there to talk about?”
He tugged on her wrist, encouraging her to turn around to face him, but she resisted. When he physically turned her, she refused to look at him, her gaze remained steadfastly fixed on the floor. “I know it’s hard to talk about, but I need to know. I’m trying to save your life.”
“Why?” she whispered so softly he hardly heard her.
Sam was way out of his depth here, but he sensed that Naomi needed to hear him say it. “Because I care about you.”
Her large brown eyes snapped up to meet his. “Why?”