Chapter 1

AN: Just on a side note, I didn't realise that Aaron was a character that stuck out to you guys. I thought of him as just a minor character to be in just the prologue, but because you guys have sparked interest in him I'm keeping him around, and have already thought up a creative way of bringing him into the story.

Also, thank you so much for the reviews. They were so touching and heart-warming that I wanted to write the chapters as quickly as I possibly could for you guys. It really meant a lot that you guys like this idea so much.

The sun was streaming through the open window of the office, casting a spotlight on the man occupying the black leather chair. His brown hair looked almost golden in the evening sunlight, his fingers gently brushing through his hair in frustration. In his arms was a folder, held tightly in his firm grasp. Leaning back into the comfortable chair, he unclips the top button of his crisp white shirt, pulling down his black tie in one fluid moment, before returning his hand to the precious documents in his hand. Not a sound was heard, his clear cerulean eyes scanning over the papers in front of him, memorizing every last word on the page as if his life depended on it. The eerie silence was broken when the white office door slammed open, crashing against the wall. Swivelling his chair around, the man's eyes watched as his co-worker charged into the room.

"Stupid drug addict! Bastard can't get his story straight; he was so doped up that night. Do you know what this means?" The man shrugged. "This means that we have no witnesses for that night at all!"

"What about that woman from the coffeehouse?" the god-like voice asked, trying to keep his calm.

"Not solid enough. She only saw a couple of shadows; she's been classified as 'minor witness'."

"So basically, this man is slipping from our grasps again?" the man grumbled angrily, frustrated that this could very well be the reality of the situation.

"I'm afraid so."

Throwing down the folder onto his desk, the man noticed a small picture fall out of the folder onto the floor. Slowly picking it up, he couldn't help the pain that filled his heart. Staring up at him was a young girl, around ten years old, smiling brightly, her golden blonde hair tied up in pigtails, bright green eyes filled with such life and warmth. His throat tightened as he remembered what happened to her. Brutally raped, tortured, and finally shot with a single bullet to the head. Missing for three days, her parents kept hope until the very end of that third day, when finally the FBI were called to a scene where a small body was found dumped in a red bag in a ravine. A brisk wind blew through the ravine, chilling every member of the team, but no cold could compare to the cold that Troy felt inside as he looked at that red bag. The same red bag he had seen exactly three times before this one, and heard the stories of seven more. Eleven brutal deaths committed the same way. They weren't dealing with just any murderer.

They were dealing with a serial killer.

"This is the fourth case we're going to let slip through our grasps McCarthy, do you understand that? I put you as second of command this time and obviously you're failed." The voice said harshly. He knew he was acting unnecessarily cruel; it wasn't McCarthy's fault that the witness wasn't valid. It just angered him that he's been chasing this man for years now, and have gotten no closer than their predecessors. "So what are you going to do about that?"

"I have no clue. This man is clever. He knows exactly how to cover his tracks." McCarthy sighed, shaking his head, dark brown locks barely moving due to all the gel in them. "How many more people are going to have to die before we can finally catch this guy?"

"I don't want to know." The man said, looking down at the picture on his desk. Each victim of this man had been between the ages of nine and thirteen. Young girls, removed from their families, never given the chance to live a young girl's life. Never given the chance to hang out with friends, go to movies. Never given the chance to go on that first date, or fall in love.

Their lives were taken from them before they even got a chance to live.

"Bolton," McCarthy addressed. Troy Bolton looked up from the picture. "We can't let this guy go free any longer. What if he goes after my family? I have nieces and nephews that are around ten. We have to figure out the pattern to his kidnappings. Where does he find his target? Does he go to the park and randomly pick someone up? Does he follow kids home from school? Is there a pattern in the schools? Is – "

"You think I don't know that?" Troy spat. "Get Summer to pull all eleven cases from storage, and bring them to me. I'll figure out what this bastard's M.O. is, if it's the last thing I do."

To say she was afraid is an understatement.

Gabriella Montez was nervous, anxious, terrified, tense, worried, overwhelmed, and any other adjective available. She was on her own for the first time in her life.

Walking out of the arrivals section of the airport, her black hair shone in the burning sunlight, her olive skin glowing. Warmth burned into her tanned skin as she carefully slipped her black jacket into her bag, realizing that it was much warmer than anticipated. Having no car for three days, Gabriella felt somewhat handicapped. She would have to rely on taxis to get around until her Audi arrived. Stepping into the yellow vehicle, Gabriella read off the address her father had written down for her, keeping quiet as the city of Los Angeles zoomed past her. A familiar ring tone broke her silence part way through the ride.

"Hello?" her gentle voice asked as the placed her black blackberry up to her ear.

"You promised you'd call as soon as you landed." The voice spoke back, semi-teasingly.

"How exactly did you know that I'd landed?" Gabriella asked giggling.

"The internet is a magical thing." Laughing gently, Gabriella's mind then went to more serious topics

"How's it back home Aaron?" she heard a sigh on the other line.

"We miss you. I miss you. This ranch just doesn't seem as bright without your warm smile to look forward to everyday. Black Magic also misses you to, he keeps looking out of his stall, as if expecting that you'll be coming back. You're just going to have to come back and visit us a lot."

"I miss you guys too."

"Then come back. It's not too late." Aaron pleaded with desperation in his voice.

"I can't do that. I need to be on my own, to experience what real life is like." Gabriella replied. "Aaron, I know you'll be fine without me. You're strong. If you could get past your old life and start over with us at the ranch, then I'm sure that you'll survive not seeing me every day. I'll still come visit, and you can come here and visit me too, I'll even pay for your ticket. I love you Aaron, you're the big brother that I never got to have, and I will never forget you. You will always be in my heart." Gabriella felt the tears swimming in her eyes, sorrow filling her body at the painful choice she was making.

"I know. I have to go now, but promise me you'll call me later?"

"I promise." Gabriella whispered softly into the receiver, before quickly ending the call with a swift press of the red button. Slipping the phone back into her purse, Gabriella couldn't help but contemplate what exactly she was doing. Sure, she was beginning her own life, a new life, but was she entirely right? Perhaps Aaron was correct, maybe she should go back home. It would be much easier that starting out in an entirely new city halfway across the country.

Time seemed to pass quickly, and before Gabriella knew it the taxi stopped before a fancy condominium complex.

"That'll be $22.30" the rough voice told her, and Gabriella handed over the cash before stepping out of the cab, grabbing her luggage out of the back and stepping up the steps and through the archway to the main lobby. Heading to the information office, she knocked on the door.

"Hello?" she said gently

"Come in my dear, come in." A female voice called her in. The office was luxurious, with small potted plants on a shelf, and paintings hanging on the walls. Settling down in the comfortable black leather chair, Gabriella looked up to see a blonde, perhaps in her late forties, smiling warmly at her.

"Hello, my name is Gabriella Montez. I just recently bought an apartment in this building." The woman's eyes sparkled at the sound of my name.

"Ah, Ms. Montez, I remember you. Urgent if I don't recall. I'm Kate Evans, and I own this complex. You'll be staying in the top penthouse suite, just a floor above my daughter's suite. Her name is Sharpay. If you're interested, I'm sure she would love to give you a tour of the city." Kate said as the handed over two sets of keys. "There are your keys and a backup, just in case."

"Thank you very much." Gabriella said politely, taking the keys and twirling them around in her hand. The cool metal felt nice against her sweating palms. "Perhaps I'll take your daughter up on that tour at a later date. Tonight I just want to walk around the area, and see where I can get a good cup of coffee." Kate smiled.

"Another coffee addict I see. Here's my number, as well as Sharpay's. Just give a call if you need anything."

"Thank you." Gabriella said politely, before shaking hands with her one last time and stepping out of the office. Stepping into the elevator, Gabriella sighed as it slowly rode up to the top floor. When the bell dinged, she stepped into the penthouse. The light wooden floors shined, reflecting off of the lighter furniture, and contrasting the light cream coloured walls. The room was fully furnished, equipped with all necessities, and then some.

Troy Bolton threw down the papers on his desk. He had gone over each of the eleven cases multiple times, and could not find any tie between them. It seemed like they were completely random kidnappings, which made the task of locating the killer all the more difficult. Running a hand through his bronze hair, he let out a frustrated sigh.

"Perhaps you should head out?" Summer's quiet voice suggested. "It's past six already. Go home, rest up, and come into it with a fresh new mind."

"You're right." Troy said, placing the folders into his shelving unit, making sure to lock up the cabinet, before grabbing his black jacket and briefcase. "Would you mind locking up for me?" he asked. Soon Troy was on his way out of the office. As he made his way to his black Jaguar XJ, slipping into the cool leather seats, before driving out of the parking garage. Immediately he felt the urge to go home, turn on the television, and have a cold drink from the fridge. But he knew the consequences; one drink would lead to two, two would lead to four, and soon he would be plastered. He couldn't afford that, not tonight. This case was too important, and he had to be at the office early in the morning. It would be impossible to hide it.

As much as the bottle was tempting him, he turned in the opposite direction and parked on a small street. The crisp night air refreshed Troy as he walked down the street towards a small cafe, lights illuminating the quiet street. Stepping in, the smell of freshly ground coffee filled his nostrils. He couldn't help but be reminded of the days when his grandfather would make grind coffee beans whenever Troy's family visited. The entire kitchen smelt like coffee, and it was then that Troy learned how to make his first cup of coffee. Stepping forward, Troy was looking up to figure out what treat he wanted to order with his coffee, when he saw her.

Standing in line, the black haired woman was looking up at the sign with a confused face. Her long curly hair flowed down past her shoulders, her light purple top and dark denim jeans showing off her olive skin and curvy figure. She was a goddess, in all meanings of the word. Troy couldn't help but catch his breath as he stared at this unusual beauty. As she finally got up to the cashier, he built up his courage and stepped up behind her, overhearing her conversation.

"I was wondering if you could tell me what you recommend?" the warm velvet voice spoke. "I'm new here and can't figure out what to get."

"Well," a husky voice said from over her shoulder, "it really depends on if you like strong or weak coffee." Gabriella turned around swiftly, only to get lost in the deep pools of blue staring into her chocolate mochas.

"Strong." She whispered, still staring at the god-like figure of a man before her. He was handsome. No, handsome was too weak of a word to describe him; he was stunning, alluring, inviting, tempting, and other word that could be thought up. She couldn't help but be drawn to this man, her body flaming.

"Are you sure you can handle it strong?" he teased, the underlying sexual innuendo making Gabriella go weak in the knees.

"Positive." The man nodded, lifting his eyes from hers to speak to the cashier.

"Two Espresso Con Panna," he said, turning back to the beauty, "the perfect combination of caffeine and sweetness."

"Here, or to go?" Troy looked down at the girl, who shrugged her shoulders. Smiling, he turned back to the cashier.

"Here." Taking out his wallet, he looked down at the price. He noticed the woman reaching into her wallet to take out some money, but he placed his calloused hand on top of her soft one. "It's on me." His rugged voice said. After handing the cashier the money, he took both mugs of coffee and headed towards a corner booth, surprised that she followed him without question. After settling down across from her, he couldn't help but get lost in her beauty again. An awkward silence surrounded them as she slowly sipped at her drink. She had to admit, he was right; this drink was incredibly good. The warm liquid flowed down her throat while the whipped cream tasted heavenly. Gabriella couldn't help but let out a giggle as she noticed a small bit of whip cream on his top lip.

"You have a bit of cream on your lip." She said grinning. Gabriella didn't know why, but she felt incredibly comfortable with this strange man. She knew she shouldn't, in a strange state where she didn't know anybody, trusting random strangers could prove to be dangerous. But she couldn't help it.

"How embarrassing." He said smirking.

"Good coffee." She complimented. "You definitely knew what to order. I'm assuming you live in the neighbourhood?"

"You could say that. I pass by here frequently, and every once in a while I stop in to get a cup of coffee as I drive home from work. Though," he said, a sparkle in his eye, "never have I before been joined with such beautiful company." Gabriella's cheeks grew hot, and she couldn't control the blush that spread onto her face.

"What do you do for work?" Gabriella immediately regretted the question as she noticed his blue eyes grow instantly dark.

"My job is dark. I deal with many evils during the day that I can't afford to think about at night. My day life and night life stay separate; there is no room for mixing of the two." Gabriella nodded, not wanting to go further into the conversation. His response, however, added to the aura of mystery that surrounded this guy. Out of nowhere he starts talking about her, acting as charming as any man could be, and then he freezes up when asked about his life. Gabriella wanted to figure him out, but was having a difficult time doing so.

They settled into a small conversation, talking about various different topics that wouldn't reveal anything about either of their lives. She figured out that his name was Troy, though he refused to tell her his last name. Gabriella couldn't help stare at his muscular build as he spoke, his chestnut hair falling perfectly on his face.

She couldn't tell how long they were there, but before Gabriella knew it Troy was standing up and gathering the mugs.

"Tonight's been a pleasure, but I have to be getting home. Early day tomorrow." Disappointment filled her body at the thought of their encounter ending, but looking down at her watch Gabriella agreed it was late.

"Thanks for the coffee Troy. It was a perfect welcome to Los Angeles." Troy smiled the sparkle that had been in his eyes back again.

"The pleasure was all mine, Gabriella." He responded smoothly. Walking Gabriella to the door, he shook her hand firmly before heading off towards the parking lot. Gabriella turned down the street and headed towards her new apartment, opening up the piece of paper that had been slipped into her hand during the handshake. Staring down at the number in her hands, Gabriella looked down at the writing beneath it.

Call me anytime – Troy

Settling down into the leather chair, Troy couldn't help but shake his head at his actions.

He worked in a high-risk profession; he couldn't afford to have any personal relationships. That was the reason why he rarely visited his parents, probably only once a year. It was the reason why he only had one best friend, and even then they were mainly just basketball buddies. Having relationships with a high-risk profession lead to dangerous situations, situations that he couldn't bear to have on his conscience.

But there was something about Gabriella, the way that her mocha eyes shimmered in the light and her raven hair feel around her face. The way her olive skin glowed in the night; the way her plump lips moved as she spoke; the way her personality drew him in like flies to honey. She was mesmerizing.

It was for those reasons that Troy found himself giving her his number, though it was against his better judgement to do so. He couldn't help but hope that she would call him soon and that he could meet up with her again. At the same time, he hoped she didn't find out about him. He was well-known in society, one of the reasons he was drawn to her was because she hadn't been in the city long enough to hear the talk about him.

And he hoped she wouldn't.

Settling into bed, Gabriella couldn't help but go over the events in her head. Specifically the events that revolved around the mysterious Troy character. She wanted to figure him out, the lawyer in her wanting to find all the facts on him before making a final judgement. She had to work on getting settled in at work and in her penthouse, but as the thumbed through her contacts on her silver Blackberry; she couldn't help but linger on Troy's name. Who was he? Why did he not want to talk about his job? What secret was he harbouring? She was going to get down to the bottom of this.

She was going to learn everything she could about the mysterious Troy that she was so drawn to.

AN: There we go, the first official chapter of Pandora's Box. I really hope that this gets you guys curious. I got thirteen reviews for the prologue, which was amazing, and what inspired me to write the chapter as quickly as I could. Your reviews really do help motivate me, and so please review this chapterand tell me what you think, and whether or not you like the way this story is going. It's early on, so if there's anything that you don't like I can try to alter it now.

So please, review and tell me what you think!

Xoxo,

Lar