They'd been sitting there for over an hour when a figure came across the cemetery toward them. The woman got to within only a few yards before she looked up, and Emma recognized her.
"Christina," she said, getting to her feet. "What are you doing here?"
"Hi, Emma," she smiled.
Her eyes moved over to Ian, and Emma noticed a fleeting expression of sadness mixed with happiness cross the woman's face. Christina Ebbots was the daughter of the head of the rescue organization, a man Emma now affectionately knew of as Grayson, a.k.a. Spice. Christina had provided vital clues to Emma throughout her journey, even if she didn’t realize it at the time.
Once all the truth came to light, they discovered a connection. Like Emma, Christina had been kept in the dark throughout her childhood about the rescue organization and what it did. Her father had been a mystery to her, much like Emma's own parents. It wasn't until Spice died that she began to uncover everything her incredible father did.
“Mr. Griffin,” she said. “It's good to see you.”
Emma's father stood and walked up to the woman.
“Ian, please,” he insisted. “I haven't seen you in so long. You were just a teenager.”
Christina nodded.
“I'm sorry I never knew…”
Ian shook his head.
“That was the way it was meant to be,” he told her. “From the beginning, we agreed not to involve you or Emma. It was too dangerous. You've done more for us than you will ever know.”
Christina smiled and wiped away a single tear that slipped from her eye before turning to Emma.
“I hope you don't mind that I came here. I'm in Florida for a couple of months, checking on some of Dad's properties. Bellamy mentioned to me you were in town, and I kind of figured that you’d be here today,” she said.
Even now that Jonah and Anson were arrested, Emma still felt uneasy about her whereabouts being publicly broadcasted. She’d long ago deleted social media and only kept a very tight-knit circle of acquaintances. Bellamy might be effusive and up-to-the-minute, but Emma was still hesitant, still on edge. She didn't know if she would ever feel completely at peace. Not as long as Leviathan existed in the world. But she had taken those men down, and she would do it again if she had to. Ever since the incident at the hospital, she’d taken it as her mantra: ‘Let them come’.
“Of course not,” Emma said. “But is everything alright?”
“Yes. I found something that I think you might want to have. It's becoming clearer that my father was better at concealing things than I ever realized. Several of the properties he owned have hidden storage areas. I'm still uncovering more and going through them. Did you know about the hiding spot in the house you used to live in?" she asked, seeming to direct the question at Ian.
He shook his head.
“No,” he said. “Where was it?”
“In the floorboards of one of the upstairs bedrooms,” Christina told him. “I actually found it last year when there was a leak, and I had to do some repairs. I didn't think anything of the papers and things I found in there, but with everything that's been going on, I started going through everything again, and I remembered a specific envelope I’d seen. It fascinated me, and I didn't know what to think of it, but I think you'll understand, Emma.”
“Alright,” Emma said.
Christina handed her a thick manila envelope. Inside it was a set of car keys, an old cell phone, and a stack of papers.
“What is it?” Ian asked.
“When I found Elliot on the porch of the cabin where I was staying in Feathered Nest, he had no cell phone, no identification, no car keys. Nobody knew where he came from or where he was shot initially,” Emma explained.
“That's right. You said he didn't have his dog tags,” Ian said.
“No. And they weren't found near the porch or anywhere. But I think I know where they are.”
Emma met her father's eyes, and he gave a slight nod.
Two days later, Emma's hand shook as she perched on a table in the upper floor hallway of Mirna's hotel near Feathered Nest, where the man known as Ron Murdock had made his very final public appearance. Her father and Mirna stood nearby, watching silently as she opened the vent on the wall. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she reached inside, and her hand touched something hard and cold. She withdrew it and looked down at the dog tags resting in her palm.
Mirna gasped.
“I have an appointment to have the vents cleaned next month,” she said. “They only need to be cleaned and disinfected every few years. How could he have known they would stay there?”
Emma shook her head, still staring at the tags.
“He didn't,” she said. “He could only hope.”
Later she sat with the tags resting on her thigh, her fingers idly rubbing the dark red gem that indicated that he was assigned to protect Mariya. She opened the cell phone and read through the final message ever sent from Elliot, on the day he died. Just before getting out of the car in the woods behind cabin thirteen, he sent a text describing where he left his car, asking not to be identified, and where his tags could be found. His words were clear and unhalting. They carried no fear.
And someone had come behind him to gather his things.
Her father sat down beside her and handed her a cup of tea.
“He knew,” Emma said. “When he sent that message, he knew he was about to die. He didn't want his car found or his tags advertised. He didn't want anyone claiming him.”
“Because he wanted to protect you,” Ian said. “He wanted to keep you safe and for you to know the truth. He knew about Jonah. He found out what he did. Just
