Chapter II
Killer

Charles ran across the street after glancing both ways, a forced habit his mother had him do when he was younger. He caught up to Shaw just as the man opened the door of his sleek black car. Shaw never used a real police car even when he was on the job, always said there was no need because nothing that needed dire attention ever happened in North Hero.

Charles pushed the car door shut before the man could get inside, he did it as a way of grabbing Shaw's attention and showing he was serious. Charles had a feeling Shaw didn't think of him as anything more than a little kid that should be ignored. "Shaw, if you're going to her place I'm going too. I need to know if something has happened."

Shaw stared at him with one eyebrow slightly raised, surprised at how firm Charles was suddenly trying to be. The boy had been a pain in his side since the day he came to town. He was weaseling his way into Shaw's mother-in-law's life which was screwing up his and Emma's plans.

He may be engaged to Emma Frost but neither of them loved each other, they both just wanted as much power as they could get in the town and the mayor marrying the chief of police would be the best way to achieve that shared goal. The only thing Shaw was looking forward to in this marriage was Emma's inheritance; they would both get the money when the old lady passed but Charles was slowly becoming a threat to that, even Emma wanted him out of the picture.

"Shaw! Did you hear me?" Charles snapped when Shaw seemed to just ignore his demand. He hated the stare Shaw was giving him; it just said everything that came out of his mouth was going in one ear then right out the other. "I don't care if you don't want me to, I'm going!" Charles marched over to the passenger side of the car and opened the door before sitting down and slamming the door shut.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

The strong smell of iron filled the room wafting up from the dried blood that stained the ugly yellow carpet and clung to the flowered walls and ceiling in some places. There were bullet holes from a shot gun in the wall in various places as well as glass and other objects that had been thrown. The room was a mess, showing that the one who's blood this was had fought back for as long as they could before the inevitable blood loss got to them.

The body lay crumpled up on the floor in a pool of dried crimson. Mrs. Frost's mouth was open slightly, blood leaking from the corner of her lips. She was covered in deep gashes that had come from a silver blade her husband had owned that was stabbed deep into her back. A shot gun lay at her side where she had dropped it before she fell.

Her open, dead eyes were locked on a man that sat in front of her on the couch staring straight back into those eyes.

He was leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees while one hand rubbed his slightly stubble covered chin and his eyebrows forrowed as if he was staring in confusion at what he had done.

Unlike the rest of the room the man was clean, his clothes were fresh, taken from his duffle bag that was lying by the door, his hair was combed back but still wet from a shower he had taken not too long after Mrs. Frost had died. There wasn't a spot of blood on him, not even on the wound he had received from a bullet grazing his left shoulder and had to stitch up himself.

"You shouldn't have come home." He said calmly as he kept eye contact with the glazed over eyes of the corpse only a few feet away from him. His voice as thick with an accent, some kind of a mix of German and Polish, as he continued, "I was only after your husband…"

His eyes slowly tore away from the body's and slid over to rest on a silver urn with a name inscribed on it below the letters 'R I P.' "Only it turns out I was two years too late." He sighed. He had come here for revenge on the man whose remains currently rested in the silver case on the mantle but after he had broken in and searched the house he had found the man whose life he wanted had already died and was going to leave without shedding a single drop of blood.

When he had been just about to leave, since the thing he had come for couldn't be obtained, this woman, the man's wife, had come home. She found him before he could leave and had seen his face. He couldn't have her report a break in to the cops and give a description of him so they could find him, he still had people to hunt down and he would not be arrested on the count of a botched break in.

The woman had grabbed a gun and he had grabbed the first weapon he could find which was ironic because the weapon he found was technically one of the reasons he had found himself here in the first place. It was the SS honour dagger, given to members who were recognized for special achievements during WWII.

During the war his mother had taken him and fled Poland when his father had been captured by the Nazis but it wasn't long before they were tracked down and captured by men that earned daggers like this one. He had been three when his mother had been captured.

Instead of simply taking them to the camps like they did with the other Polish Jews they found that had tried to flee they had decided to have a bit of fun. They ripped his mother's clothes off and raped her, forcing him to watch and listen to her cries. When she thought it was over they had taken a dagger just like this one and gutted her. Making him, as he screamed and cried, watch while his mother bled out in front of him.

He could still remember her screams and the taste of iron rich blood that hung in the air that day.

The memory had caught him off guard and allowed the woman to load her gun and shoot at him, which was what pulled him from his thoughts and how he had gotten the graze. After that the fight as short lived, the woman as old and in no shape to stand up to a man like him who had been training and hunting ex Nazis for the greater part of his life.

The room was trashed when she finally gave into blood lose and fell down. It was then he took the knife a stabbed it deep into her back, feeling it puncture through her spine. Much like the rest of the room he had been left covered in her blood and could feel it slowly dying on his skin.

It was a feeling he was used to by now, something that actually made him feel alive in a twisted way but the fight was over and she was dead so he wanted it off. Staring down at the body with his cold blue-green gaze he smiled faintly as he looked at the expressionless face. Glancing around the room he realized what a mess they had made. When his eyes came to rest on his gloved hands, the leather shined with blood but it felt as if it was actually on his hands, not just staining his gloves.

It had technically been the blood of an innocent that should never have died. He had killed innocent people before but no matter how many times he did it never made the fact they weren't meant to die any easier. He had to get clean.

He had used the woman's shower to get the blood off his skin and disposed of his blood soaked clothes. Once dressed in a fresh turtleneck and slacks he cleaned his shoes and put them on then combed his hair back before dropping his duffle bag, the only thing he ever carried with him, beside the door so he could leave.

Walking over to the couch he sat down to look at his work a moment longer and that's where he had remained for the past few hours, just staring at the body.

"You'd still be alive if you hadn't come home." He said as he bowed his head and stood up.

He walked over to the door a grabbed his black duffle bag and was about to open the door when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut. He quickly moved to a window and peered through the curtains so he could see outside without having to move the fabric.

Outside was a sleek black car and two men. One was heading toward the door while the other as yelling something after him and still getting out of the car. The younger one looked familiar. The way his dark hair curled back, barely touching his forehead, the natural curve of his red lips that stood out against his creamy white skin that looked soft to the touch, they all seemed so familiar.

It was those eyes that gave him away though. He had only seen one pair that shade of magnificent blue before and they had been on a boy he had seen in a cemetery when he was in New York about a month back but that night they had been wet with glistening tears waiting to fall.

Those eyes had haunted him since the moment he saw them sparkling in the dim lights of the cemetery.

No matter what he did he couldn't seem to escape those eyes and now the blue eyed boy was here, a different type of sparkle in his hypnotic eyes as he closed the car door and marched up to the other man.

He never believed in coincidences, so seeing this boy again after this long and this far from New York had to have some kind of deeper meaning. Maybe it was God's plan or something akin to destiny that their paths crossed again but nevertheless the boy was here.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

"Shaw, wait up!" Charles yelled after Shaw as he finally managed to get the door open. It had required rolling down the window and opening the car door from the outside since Shaw had some kind of Child safety lock on the passenger door. When he finally stumbled out of the car Shaw was already walking up the steps to the front door, completely ignoring his request.

The whole ride over had been uncomfortably silent and the atmosphere in the car was so tense it could be cut knife. Charles had tried to keep serious the whole time, practically glaring out the front window, while Shaw blocked his very existence out. There was one point when Shaw looked over at him and he was very sure the man was imagining or debating throwing him out of the car.

Charles straightened up and adjusted his shirt before he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed after Shaw.

On his way up the front steps he stopped, he could feel someone's eyes on him and he felt a shiver run up his spine, spreading through his whole body. Looking around he saw no one but Shaw, whose back was facing him, and a few cars drive by on the street. He tried pushing the feeling aside but when he started walking again the closer he got to the door the more intense the feeling became.

Shaw was at the door, ringing the doorbell and knocking to give Mrs. Frost a chance to answer before he had to break the lock or something. Charles stopped beside him and looked up at him as he impatiently tapped his foot while he glanced at his watch.

Charles looked from the policeman to the dark wooden door in front of them, silently praying that his employer would hurry up and come to the door already so they could know if she was alright. Something twisted in his gut, telling him that something was terribly wrong here and that they should just walk away. He took a small step back and looked up at Shaw who was staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Aren't you going to break down the door?" He asked, trying to pass off his backing away as getting out of Shaw's way.

Shaw rolled his eyes and shifted through his pockets until he pulled out a pair of keys. He dangled them in front of Charles' face, making them bounce and jiggle like what someone does when they're playing with a small kitten. "I'm engaged to her daughter, so I have a key. Think it through."

Charles glared at the older man and shoved the keys out of his face. "Open the damn door already then!" He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

A smirk slowly unfolded on Shaw' face as he turned away from the now irritated Charles so he could unlock the door. Even when unlocked the door wouldn't open so Shaw had to force it open. Ramming his shoulder into the door as he turned the doorknob easily did the trick and the door swung open.

Charles silently followed Shaw inside but was suddenly shoved back as Shaw quickly grabbed his gun. "Stay by the door." He ordered sharply as he walked farther into the house.

He took another step back, putting a bit more safe distance between himself and Shaw's gun but it didn't take long for a spark of curiosity as to why he was shoved back to form in the back of his mind. Charles took a few steps farther into the house and peered around the corner into the living room. His eyes widened to comical proportions as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

There was blood everywhere. The amount there was couldn't have all come from one person, it just couldn't have. The rich smell of drying blood and already decaying flesh hung in the air causing waves of nausea so strong he had to lean against the wall and cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve to fight off the dizziness.

He took in the splatter trails that were caused by the swift flick of a knife and the pools of blood leading to…

Charles gagged, "Shaw, i-is…" He couldn't finish his sentence as his stomach flipped and he fought back the urge to vomit but the older man looked back at him and with a short nod answered the unfinished question.

He stared at the body a moment longer before he gagged again and he knew he had to leave. Stumbling out of the house he nearly tripped over the threshold. He was trying to wrap his mind around what he'd just seen. He had gotten close to Mrs. Frost over the past few weeks and now she was gone, murdered in what looked like the worst way possible. Tears edges forward and ran steadily down his cheeks as he descended the front steps.

Charles felt his stomach flip again and he knew he couldn't fight back the urge to vomit any longer. He veered off the steps and into the front lawn where he doubled over as he threw up the contents of his mostly empty stomach.

He dug his short nails into the hard earth as he felt the burn of acid at the back of his throat and shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He got back up and looked over at the door just as Shaw emerged, a smirk stretched across his thin face.

Charles felt the urge to yell at him, what the hell was wrong with him, the man's soon-to-be mother-in-law was dead and he was smiling about it? "Are-aren't you gonna call-call for back-up?" Was the question that came out instead, his voice trembling as much as the rest of him was at the moment.

"I did already but I think I already have a suspect."

Charles was just about to ask who Shaw thought it was when he found himself being forced to the ground. "You were the last one to see her alive." Shaw grinned as he grabbed both of Charles' wrists.

"You think I did th-that? That's insane, Shaw! I-I would—"

"You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it for once." The older man hissed in his ear as he clapped the handcuffs on Charles.

As Shaw continued to recite Charles' rights he pulled him up by his hair and led him to his car. He shoved Charles carelessly into the backseat, not bothering to protect him from hitting his head like he was supposed to when arresting someone.

"Shaw, you know I didn't do this!" He pleaded just as the car door was slammed shut.

Shaw turned his back to the car where Charles was still trying to convince him he was crazy for even thinking it could be him. Truth be told by Charles' reaction to the scene he could tell the teen hadn't done it but the thought of arresting him sounded too sweet for him pass up. He walked back over to the steps and frowned, he'd have to tell Emma if someone at the department hadn't already called her as soon as he called them and told them to get here.

Shaw knew how to handle a situation such as this one; he had seen crime scenes like this one when he was a detective in New York City. Most of the time they weren't this intense but he had seen some at this level and others worse than this. In fact he had moved up to North Hero to get away from seeing things like this on a daily basis.

"Shaw! What happened?"

He turned and saw Emma jumping out of the back of a car. She ran onto the sidewalk and made her way to the front door but he quickly stopped her, pulling her back to him and holding her in a tight embrace. "You don't want to go in there."

She stared up at him in slightly horrified shock, "it can't be that bad, can it?"

He couldn't tell her it was worse than she could imagine, he didn't want to have to deal with her being even more emotional than she already was, which for someone who just lost their mother was quite controlled he noted.

"Why is he in there?" Emma asked, glaring over Shaw's shoulder at the boy in the back of his car. He could see a small smirk pulling at her painted lips even now as tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"He had insisted on coming with me from the shop and he was the last one to see her alive so I'm going to take him in for questioning once those lazy bastards get here." Shaw hissed and just like those were the magic words two other police cars pulled up in front of the house.

The men got out and Shaw made Emma go back to her office then gave the orders on what the others should do when handling this investigation. He knew most had never seen something like this before but he also knew that the ones that had could manage the situation so he was free to take Charles in.

After assigning tasks he turned around and headed over to his car where Charles was sitting back with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The only words to come out of him when Shaw got in the car were, "Let's get this over with."