No infringement intended. This is fanfiction. Characters' appearances and names do not belong to me, however lackluster personalities, awkward dialogue, and enormous plot-holes are all mine.

~Prologue~

At four in the morning my cell phone vibrated on the nightstand next to my bed. I jolted up into a sitting position, and answered, "Whitlock."

On the other end of the line was a voice I hadn't heard in nearly forever, but recognized instantly. "Jasper, my boy, did I wake you?"

I had maybe two hours of sleep that night, one hour more than most nights. I cleared my throat, "Nah, Charlie. I was up. What can I do for you?"

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and roughly ran a hand through my hair. I hadn't heard from Charles Swan - Chief Swan - in nearly a decade, not since joining the academy. He sent a congratulatory card when I became an FBI agent seven years later. Charlie was a man of few words, if he was calling me before the ass-crack of dawn after all this time, I knew he needed my help and I'd give it to him happily. I owed him.

"Well, son, I could use your services back home. See, I've come across... across a problem."

"Is it a case?" I was already slipping on a pair of dress slacks, and searching for my laptop. I could probably book the next flight out of Dulles online and be in Seattle by the afternoon.

"You could say, yes. Not quite sure yet."

His uncertainty caught me off guard. "Not sure?"

"Its," - he sighed heavily - "Its complicated. Do you remember a case in Washington a few years back, 'The Heart Surgeon'?"

I paused midway buttoning up my shirt. It was three years back. There were five murders, all the victims discovered with their hearts missing. The papers had dubbed the killer The Heart Surgeon, real creative. I had followed the case, knowing Charlie was heading the search for the murderer. He even took a lot of flack after he recruited some psychic. The locals thought the Chief had finally fallen off his rocker, I have to admit I worried the same thing, but less than a week later the killer had been taken into custody: some prestigious doctor out of a small community called Forks.

"Carlisle Cullen, right?"

"That'd be him. Well, a couple of my boys picked up two bodies this week. Same M.O., hearts gone, similar, if not exact technique. The weapon was left at the scene, a scalpel from Dr. Cullen's personal collection. Has his Goddamned initials carved into it."

"A copy-cat?" I was sliding on my loafers, eyeing the apartment for my car keys.

"Must be. The doctor is still snug as a bug at State Penn."

It seemed pretty clear cut to me. Charlie wasn't an idiot, if he could find the real deal, I was certain he could find the cheap knock off. So it lead me to wonder what he needed me for.

"What's the catch here?"

He was silent for a moment. "The ah, bodies we picked up. They belonged to Judge Cope and the D.A. who oversaw the Surgeon's trial."

I stopped for a moment to register this new bit of information. The copy-cat was picking off those associated with the case. Charlie was the one that put the psycho behind bars. Charlie was on the list. Charlie was in danger.

"Charlie I am on my way. Its going to be fine."

He made a noncommittal grunt. I could practically hear his mustache twitch. "I'll see you when you get here, son." He paused again, "It was real nice hearing from you again."

I didn't get to respond before he hung up. If I had known that was the last time I would speak with him, I may have made more of an effort.

Thank you for reading.