At your Door

Prologue

This is my new one, it is in the same AU as the bulletproof series and tells the story of the OC criminal I brought in at the end Craig Lewes. It can be read as a stand alone I suppose but there's a few things you might not get. It is mainly focused on the crime angle, with shades of private life. There is a sister fic to this called life at the 1-2 which focusses on Flack and his private life while this is ongoing. It is chapter for chapter, ie – life at the 1-2 will explain the effect the case etc is having on his home life and friendships. Hope you enjoy.

Prologue

Craig Bolen Lewes walked across the street, ducking into an alley as two police officers walked from the coffee shop to their patrol car. Two women, laughing, nudging each other. He watched them, detached, his twisted mind thinking of the ways he'd get them to do what he wanted. Then force them to anyway, over and over until they begged him to die. The way the others had, others that no one but him even knew about. Oh they were missing, presumed dead, but no one knew his secret, that he was to blame. He was thoughtful, of course they may not fit his profile when he got to know them, the women he hunted were hesitant to reveal what he needed to know, but eventually, reveal they did. If they revealed the right answer, they were the lucky ones, the ones who flooded NYPD with reports that he'd romanced them and they had lived to tell the tale. Others weren't so lucky. Despite being caught, his motive was still his own, and he intended to keep it that way.

Lewes knew he was what society called a 'serial killer'. That people thought he was a socio-path, psychopath, and everything in between. He didn't care for labels, he didn't have 'compulsions' that he couldn't deny. Nor did he have that 'trigger' that most types had, the breaking point, the thing that caused them to spill their guts. Nor did he particularly covet his freedom, Craig Lewes lived inside his head, the only thing prison stopped was actually doing what he had become expert at, but he'd had plenty of time to plan it all, should he ever get out.

And he had. The escape wasn't planned. Granted, setting up Taylor, Flack and Hawkes was, luring them with a body each if they gave him their accounts of how he was caught for his supposed film. There was never any film, and Lewes could not believe his luck when all three had walked willingly into his trap. He'd got them, contradicting each other, on tape. It wasn't strong, and it would be argued that the police officers had left vital information out to stop certain procedures becoming public knowledge, but it had been enough for him to get an appeal.

The opportunity to escape had just presented itself. They gave him a female guard in the court house, one to take him from the cells to the dock. They never got that far. He was expert at seducing women, and this one was young and impressionable. He'd studied each of her movements, each answer, each small eye movement. Lured her into a trap. As soon as he dropped and clutched at his chest, calling her name pitifully, she'd reacted exactly as planned and that was that. He'd regretted having to leave her behind, she may have been his type, but an unconscious police woman would hinder escape.

He had no interest in changing his appearance, that was his bait, the way he looked, the way he talked. Women couldn't help themselves. But in order to continue his work, he needed to clean up, become normal again. He'd learned a few tricks inside that would help him now, stealing would have to start him off. Once he got started, only time would tell how long he'd be able to continue, but one thing he knew, one woman he wanted above all others was the only one who had resisted him. Given time, even women who knew what he'd done were putty in his hands. Telling them that he couldn't control it, that he was sick, needed help, wanted to be good. He always marvelled at how stupid they were, that they believed he couldn't control it, if he had no control – why were they still alive? That question failed to occur to them in their fits of pitying fear.

No, the one he wanted was the one who had always been protected, and she'd seen what he was capable of, first hand. She'd never even faltered, he had studied her body language closely, and not once had she softened to him. But she would, he'd break her, gain her confidence, give her the hope she would desperately need and then crush it. It would be his biggest triumph, and what happened before or after that, he didn't give much thought. It wouldn't matter if she didn't fit his profile, the women he normally took. She had become his challenge.

That was the key, submission, and the feeling he was granting a last wish, putting them out of the misery they endured. It wasn't even physical for the most part, the pain he inflicted, it was emotional, mental. He gave the hope, the loved seeing the hope in their eyes as he softened, seemed contrite for what he was doing, before switching at will back into a cold and hard captor. All planned and executed with precision, every step.

…...

Stella Bonusera walked through the airport terminal, she'd not been back to New York since the day she left. The only person she'd seen from her old life was Don Flack, briefly, when he'd visited. She'd avoided invitations to weddings, children's christenings, birthday parties and just to visit. She had run away, from the terror and trauma that New York had held. Feet firmly planted in New Orleans.

How a subpoena from the New York DA changed that, she thought. Forced back to face her demons, she resented the city she'd once loved, the people she considered her family. That was why she'd told no one she was arriving today, oh Mac would know, she was sure of that.

She got into the taxi and headed for the hotel. She didn't alert anyone to her arrival, she didn't think she could face the jolly welcome that would surely happen. It would happen in time, but she needed space to face her ghosts alone for now. To adjust to feeling trapped and violated all over again by this city.

…...

APB on Craig Lewes escaped prisoner.

Escaped at final appeal hearing.

Consider extremely dangerous.

Mac Taylor read the bulletin, of course he already knew Lewes had escaped. They had been on the phone immediately, he forwarded the email on to his team, adding a note that he would meet them at 10am sharp for a briefing. Just as he hit send his cell rang, he looked at it, sighing. It was Detective Flack, he hoped against hope that his gut was wrong.

He wasn't, he hung up the phone with more force than was needed. He was furious to receive the call, the call that said Lewes had killed again, was back in business and they had to do it all over again.

...