Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT
EPOV
I could feel the eyes of curious pedestrians, news reporters and cops as the sound of my feet echoed back at me off the marble steps.
The fast 'clicks' of high heeled shoes a few steps behind me alerted me to Rosalie's presence as she hurried to catch up to me.
" 'Morning." She said cheerfully as she stepped into line with me.
I grumbled something in response.
"Oooh, I see we are not happy this morning." She said, readjusting her clipboard under her arm.
I took a sip of my coffee as one of the cops opened the front glass door for me.
I nodded at him in thanks, then stepped inside.
I downed what remained of my coffee in one large gulp before tossing it into the garbage.
I took a moment to prepare myself before clearing my throat and raising my voice to be heard above the small crowd of people inside.
"Excuse me, I'm Agent Cullen; I'm going to be leading this investigation. If you could give me your full cooperation I would greatly appreciate it. I'm going to need to talk to the museum manager to start with, but I assure you that I will get to each of you eventually. So please stay close, be patient and we can get through this relatively quickly." I concluded with a smile, knowing that we were all going to be here for a long long time.
The groans that echoed through the main entrance made me long for the coffee that was now long gone.
They began mingling among one another except for one man who I assumed was the museum manager, he wasted no time in walking up to me and shaking my hand, which I noticed was trembling slightly.
"David Gillman." He said releasing my hand, "I'm the museum manager." I let my eyes look over his face, he looked rather pale.
"Alright, why don't we just get right to it then. When did you discover the painting was missing?" I asked, taking out the generic notepad that seems to come standard for agents and detectives.
"Well, our event last night went until around midnight, and then we had our usual nighttime security which is always a small group of guards; but I'm not in charge of security, I'm only supposed to deal with the gallery set ups." He said, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief.
'It is way too early for this.'
"Alright, let me ask again. What time did you discover that the painting was missing?" I asked, making a point of clicking my pen.
"Oh, right, my apologies. I came in around seven, as usual, to make sure everything was running smoothly; and I found it when I was taking my usual walk through the galleries." He said, distress evident in his voice.
I could tell that we weren't going to get anywhere until he calmed down, "Why don't I go see the scene, then I'll come back and talk to you again when you've had a chance to calm down." I said, motioning to one of the marble benches near the front doors.
He nodded shakily and headed for them.
I let out a large sigh and turned to look at Rosalie.
Her face was even brighter now that we were going to see the actual crime scene.
"Come on, let's go." She said, tugging on my arm.
"Are you sure." I said, messing with her, "Because I'm sure the other people here are plenty interesting to talk to." I joked.
She sent me a dark look over her shoulder that made me chuckle.
Rather than feel her wrath, I followed a few steps behind.
We walked across the main hall, up the marble steps to another hall where tickets are usually taken and the elevators that lead up to different floors for different exhibits.
"Are these the only elevators?" Rosalie asked, looking at the camera in the top-right corner.
I chuckled, immediately knowing exactly what she was thinking.
"Unfortunately for us, they are not. I assure you, Scarlet probably knows every single crevice of this place. If there is an elevator without a camera, she used it."
I returned my gaze to the metal doors as we rose higher and higher, but I could still feel her looking at me.
"What?" I asked, turning to her once again.
She smiled, "So, it's Scarlet now? Since when did you stop calling her The Scarlet Thief?"
I took a moment to toss the question around in my head, when I realized that I really didn't have an answer, I shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it's just easier to say. The Scarlet Thief is kind of a tongue twister." I said, stepping through the metal doors as they cranked open.
"Mmm-hmm…sure." I heard from behind me.
One of the security guards pointed me towards the correct gallery, and soon I was lifting the crime scene tape over my head and waiting for Rosalie to slip under as well before I released it.
"Alright, what've we got?!" I let my voice carry through the gallery; making the heads of CSU workers look up from whatever they were doing and glance at me. (A/N: CSU stands for Crime Scene Unit, like CSI)
"Hey Edward." One of them, who I recognized as Cody, waved me over. I walked over to where he stood in front of an empty frame on the wall, dusting anything with a surface for fingerprints.
"Is there anything?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"I've been working her crime scenes long enough now. Trust me, when I find a fingerprint or some other incriminating evidence, you'll know." He said, I picked up a hint of bitterness.
"So…that's a no?" I asked, holding back a smile.
Instead of an answer, I received a look similar to the one Rosalie had given me earlier.
I held up my hands in mock defense, "Sorry, just have to make sure."He returned to his dusting.
I took a few steps back to get a better look.
The frame was a rich golden color with intricate flowering along the rim. To the left of it was a small plaque that read:
Vincent Van Gogh
Dutch, 1853-1890
The Poet's Garden, 1888
My eyes trailed back to the empty frame, this time drifting to the top where a piece of silk ribbon hung, the color was in-between a rich dark purple, and the dark red of an open flame.
"How much was it worth?" I asked without taking my eyes off the ribbon.
"Close to a million, if not more" Cody said, carefully untying the ribbon with delicate precision using his latex gloves.
"That doesn't make any sense." Rosalie said from where she stood beside me.
I turned my head and raised an eyebrow, gesturing her to explain.
"This painting is worth around a million dollars, look around." I did as she instructed, glancing over the other paintings, "I can count at least five other paintings in here that would fetch for at least ten times as much if not more on the black market."
"That's the funny thing about Scarlet; she never does what you expect." I said.
"Any why do you think that is?" Rosalie asked, she probably meant for the question to be rhetorical, but I decided to answer anyways.
"Because she's different. It's like you said," I turned to her, "she has an ulterior motive for her heists. Most criminals take the most valuable item and run. Scarlet though…she thinks before she moves, calculates each step and prepares for any anything that could pose as a challenge. It's almost like a game of chess to her; someone who's mastered the game can think fifteen moves ahead, predicting and adapting. She calculates each second of her crime, canceling out the variable of surprise, slipping through the tiniest cracks and ultimately…disappearing into thin air." I concluded. The room was silent; I hadn't realized that my audience had grown while I was talking.
"Aren't I supposed to be the criminal psychologist?" Rosalie asked, obviously impressed by my dissection of Scarlet's psyche.
"I'm just saying that there is a very real and specific reason that she took that painting. But I'm also saying that, no matter how much research we do on it including who owns it, who put it up, who did the frame, how much it's actually worth, why it's in this gallery, et cetera, et cetera, we will never find out what that specific reason is. Scarlet is the only one who knows, and it's not likely that she's going to give us the one detail that would give us a chance, even a small one, at catching her." I realized that I was staring at the piece of silk again; I tore my eyes away and looked at Rosalie.
Her brow was furrowed; her mind was processing my words. "What about known associates, perhaps a partner? Maybe they would know…" But I was already shaking my head at her.
"She works alone, no exceptions." I said, I had gathered that much in my time on the case.
"You know, now that I think about it. The more you describe talk about her, the more I'm noticing that you could easily be talking about yourself." She said, a smirk in her tone.
I sent her a look to which she shrugged and said, "Just sayin'. You two seem to have a lot in common."
I decided to change the topic before Rosalie started psycho analyzing me.
"Have we found out her point of entry and how she got past the securities?" I asked to whoever could answer.
"What do you mean?" Rosalie asked, "There's only one way in." She pointed to the door we entered through.
I chuckled, "Trust me, she found another way other then the door."
A different CSU personnel joined us and said, "Your right, the locks on the gallery doors are electric, there's no record of the doors opening until a little after seven this morning when the manager came through."
"What security mechanisms are in the room?" I asked.
"Well, electro-magnetic lock on the door that is on a timer. An alarm goes off if they're opened before seven o'clock; there are two-security cameras, and…a heat scanner." He said.
"Alright, let's start with the cameras. How did she deal with that?" I asked, my gaze looking up, searching for them.
"Only one of them points in the direction of the painting," He said, pointing at what looked like one of the lights hanging from the ceiling. I squinted my eyes and could just make out a lens. "A pair of wire cutters took care of that."
"Alright. And you said there was a heat sensor, correct?" He nodded and pointed to the wall near the gallery entrance. I walked over and saw the piece of clay that was still covering the sensor. 'Well, if something works the first time…'
This was the third time I'd seen her use this method to get past a heat sensor.
"What is it?" Rosalie asked, taking a closer look.
"It's just some simple modeling clay. She uses it to block heat waves from being detected." I smiled at the familiarity.
I stepped back again; I could almost see Scarlet covering the sensor, then making her way over to the painting.
The image faded away when Rosalie spoke, "That still doesn't explain how she got inside without setting off the door alarms."
I thought for a second, then smiled. "I'm just going to go out on a limb here and assume that there is no footage on the camera of her before she cut the wire." The CSU guy nodded, "And there's no way she could have avoided the cameras if she came through the door." He nodded again.
"Which only leaves…" I let my gaze look up, my smile stretched a little more.
Rosalie looked at me before following my gaze. "You don't mean…" I nodded, she did a double-take, "You have got to be kidding me. How the hell could she have gotten up there?"
I chuckled, "That's what we're here to find out."
BPOV
I was lying on my back on my couch, using my arm as a pillow, staring at the skylight high above me.
It was pouring. The individual drops were hitting the glass with tremendous force, creating the only noise in the room.
My mind was wandering, an activity that was normal for most, but could be potentially dangerous for me.
Different images of a forest covered in green, a cold ocean front, and a house flashed across my mind rapidly, just showing each image for less than a second, not dwelling on any individual one.
When I felt like I was diving too deep into memories that are best left unperturbed, I resurfaced.
"Scarlet!"
I jumped up, my fists raised.
I lowered them an inch when I saw it was just Alice.
Her eyes were wide and her palms were held up, "Whoa! It's just me, just wanted to let you know that I'm all done, your good to go."
"Oh…sorry." I lowered my fists the remainder of the way and relaxed from my rigid posture, "You shouldn't do that." I said, turning away to look out the window.
"I'll keep that in mind…" She said, following my gaze.
"What were you thinking about anyways? I must have called your name a dozen times." She asked.
"Nothing important..." My voice trailed off.
She decided not to pry, "Alright, well like I said, the painting is fine; so I'm going to head out." She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb.
It took a moment for my mind to process what she said.
"Hey," I said, stopping her as she started to turn away, "I'm probably going to go out for a drink later tonight, you wanna come?"
"Seriously?" She asked, just as surprised as I was; I don't usually do much with her.
"Yeah." I shrugged.
"Sure." She said smiling, but still with a look of surprise, "I'll come back eight-ish?"
I nodded.
"Great! I guess I'll see you then." She said enthusiastically.
"Mmmhmm," I responded, noticing that the rain had stopped.
I was briefly aware of the door shutting; my mind was already beginning to wander again.
EPOV
"So, what exactly is up there? All I can see is screens." I asked, letting my eyes wander over the entire ceiling.
"Mainly the wires to the cameras, and the humidity unit." Said the museum security manager, who had joined us from downstairs. "But it's blocked off almost ninety-percent of the time."
"How big is it?" I asked.
"Excuse me?" He asked.
"How big is the humidity unit?" I asked, tearing my gaze away from the ceiling to look at him.
He looked at me, obviously thinking that I was joking, when my facial expression told him I was not he hurriedly flipped through the papers on his clipboard and said, "It's about two feet wide and just as tall. We use it to pump in dry air when the gallery gets to humid. But, like I said, it's closed off ninety percent of the time."
"What are you thinking Edward?" Rosalie asked.
"I'm thinking…that I found how she got in here." I said, walking closer to the wall.
"Where exactly is the humidity unit above us?" I asked him.
He pointed up a few feet over.
I stood in front of the wall and looked up. "Cody, can you come here for a sec?"
"What's up?" He asked, joining me in looking up.
"Can you use your fingerprint duster on this wall? Right here." I asked, pointing to a spot roughly three feet off the ground.
"Sure." He said, shrugging; not quite understanding why, but willing to go along with it.
I watched with bated breath as he brushed on the black powder. Rosalie came to stand next to me, joining me in staring at the spot on the wall.
A smile stretched on my face, when a perfect shoeprint appeared where he dusted.
Rosalie turned her head to look at me, giving me a look that blatantly asked how the hell I knew that was there, and how the hell it got there.
My eyes wandered up again.
"Are you telling me she walked up the walls?" She asked in amazement.
"Yes." Was my simple answer, as I rose back up to my usual height.
I turned to the head of security, "How many elevators do you have without cameras?"
"Just two. One takes art down to the restoration rooms and the other is for museum personnel, it's used to transfer art from each level, we use it when we reorganize galleries." He said.
"The second one. Can you show me where it is on this level?" I asked, I was now on a roll.
He nodded and gestured for me to follow him; immediately Rosalie and I were on his heels.
We went down a few hallways, before he turned one corner and pointed to an elevator door.
'Here we go.' I thought as I noticed a vent screen on the wall next to the elevator.
I pointed to it, "This is the point of entry."
I turned around to find both of their faces looking between me and the vent.
"Who the hell are we after? Spiderman!" Rosalie cried out.
I chuckled and looked closer at the screen, noticing scratches on the screws holding it in place, most likely from the screwdriver she used to undo them.
"Alright, so now that we have our point of entry; how did she get up here?" I said, talking more to myself then to the security manager.
I went over to the elevator, noticing a camera lens next to it.
"What is this?" I asked him.
"It's a facial recognition system. Very few people have access. Oh! And a keycard scanner." He said.
"So, how did she get past that?" Rosalie asked.
I took a closer look at the face scanner; the screen was flashing red, the computer was scanning my face and denying me access.
"I have no idea." I told her.
I would have to think about it more later; for now, I needed to look at a different aspect.
I turned to the security manager, "You said the vents were closed ninety percent of the time…"
He nodded.
"Then how could she have gotten through?" Rosalie said, finishing my thought for me.
I didn't let him answer; instead I asked a different question, "Is there a room that manages all this stuff? I assume the humidity is all regulated by computers?"
"Yeah, it's on our main floor, near the security room. I'll show you." He said, gesturing me to follow once again.
He held his face in front of the scanner then swiped a card, the screen flashed green and the doors opened.
A few seconds passed and soon we were exiting the elevator on the floor level.
We went down a small set of steps and around a few corners before the security manager unlocked a door and led us inside.
He strode over to the computer and started clicking away, Rosalie and I waited patiently until I heard the same words that someone always seems to say when Scarlet steals something, "But that's impossible."
"Yeah, it always is." I let out a sigh, "I'm going to go over to the camera room." I said, leaving him to grieve over whatever was left of his job.
I knocked on the correct door and waited for someone to open it from the inside since I didn't have the keycard.
As I entered I noticed the museum manager was inside, staring up at one of the many screens that showed security camera footage.
I cleared my throat to get their attention.
"I noticed that the elevator that the thief used needs a face scanner and a keycard to work, can you guys find out which keycard it was?" I asked one of the many security guards.
He nodded and began typing furiously at the computer.
"Here it is, the computer says that someone used their keycard at ten fifty-one last night. Give me a sec and I can find out who…" He clicked a few more times before I saw his movements freeze and his eyes darted to the museum manager who stood oblivious, still watching the screen.
"Oh god…" I said with a sigh when I understood.
"Sir," I said, tapping on the museum manager's shoulder, causing him to turn around.
"Did you use your access card to use the personnel elevator last night?" I asked.
"No, I was at the fundraiser all night." I gestured to the screen, he blanched.
"That is not me." He said, immediately defending himself. I was trying to think of some way that Scarlet could have done it, but with the facial scanner confirming that it was him in the elevator; it wasn't looking good for him. I had no doubt that Scarlet did it, but I was going to have to take him in anyways, it was protocol.
"I'm going to need you to come with me sir." I said, stepping toward him.
He backed up quickly, "No I assure you it wasn't me. My keycard is missing and I can prove I was at the event! We have footage!" He said, gesturing wildly at the screens behind him
I stopped, "Wait, you recorded the event?" I asked.
"Yes, last year there were some discrepancies, so we decided to put up camera's this year to avoid any lawsuits."
"When did you realize your card was missing?" I asked him urgently.
"Uhhh…" He tried to think quickly, "after the event, I thought I had misplaced it in one of my jackets when I changed midway through the event, my first jacket was stained by a waitress."
"Show me." I said, pointing to the screens.
He nodded at one of the security guards who pulled up a screen that showed a high up view of the event.
It was in fast forward for a while until they stopped it and the museum manager pointed at a scene.
I stepped closer and watched the scene go through quickly, I had to squint, but I could just make out someone stumbling and splashing champagne on who I assumed was the museum manager then helping him wipe it up.
"Can you play that back? And zoom in." I told the guy operating the feed.
He nodded and did as I said.
The view was much closer as we watched from behind the same waitress as she stumbled and splashed the champagne.
My eyes were following the waitress as she went forward and tried to clean the champagne off his jacket. We still couldn't see her face.
"Come on, come on." I said, silently begging her to turn around.
My heart was beating quickly in anticipation.
"What is she saying right there?" I asked the museum manager.
"She said that she was going to bring me a towel. Which she never actually did now that I think about it." He said.
I could now see a little bit of her face, but it wasn't enough.
"Come on, turn around just a little more." I begged.
I watched as she grabbed her tray; put the napkins on, and…
"Stop!" I said, effectively making the security guard press the pause button, freezing the scene in front of me.
"That's her." I said.
"Are you sure?" Rosalie asked quickly, coming up to stand next to me.
"I would know that face anywhere." I said, not taking my eyes off the screen.
It was the same brown hair, same deep brown eyes and the same smirk that covered her lips.
It was her.
We both stared at the screen in silence until Rosalie seemed to come to the same realization that I did.
"This is huge." Rosalie said in awe; she was the only one in the room who understood just how valuable that picture was.
"So, am I off the hook?" The museum manager asked, not realizing the gravity of the situation. The intensity of what we just uncovered.
"Yeah, you could say that." I said, staring at the face of The Scarlet Thief.
BPOV
I stepped into the bar and Alice followed a few steps behind me.
We walked over to the counter and took a seat on a couple of the stools.
She ordered a long island ice tea, I settled for a vodka tonic.
I tapped on the counter absentmindedly while we waited for our drinks.
I could talk to people when it was part of an act; but I rarely ever talked to people as myself.
"So…" Alice said, attempting to start a conversation.
"Yeah?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I've got a question that's been bugging me ever since we started working together." She started.
"Shoot." I said, gesturing for her to continue talking.
"Well… I was wondering why you chose to work with me specifically." She said, taking a sip of the drink that had just been placed on the counter.
"Hmmm. I did not see that coming." I said, expecting a question more along the lines of 'have you ever killed someone'
"Well." I started, thinking it over in my head, "I did my research." I took a sip of my drink. "I guess you could say that you fit all the credentials for the person I needed."
"How so?" She asked.
"Well, for starters, you're good at what you do. Really good. I needed the best. And second, not only are you book smart, your also street smart. You think things through to the fullest extent before making a decision, and you ultimately make the one that serves you best." I said
"Did you just call me shallow?" She asked with a small laugh.
"Not at all, I'm just saying that you look out for yourself first, then others. A shallow person wouldn't care about the latter." I said.
"So, how much do you know about me exactly?" She asked, curiosity in her voice.
"Well, like I said, I did my research. You went to Michigan State University where you majored in art history, you had a three point eight gpa throughout all four years, you took an internship at a gallery in New York before deciding to move out here and work at the museum, which is where I found you." I took a long sip of my drink, watching her over my glass.
She opened her mouth a few times, but in the end just decided to take a drink.
"Sorry." I said.
"About what? I'm the one that asked." She said, smiling again, but I could see in her eyes that she was still processing the information I gave her, deciding what to do with it.
I flagged down the bartender, "I think we're going to need another round." He nodded.
It was silent again for a few moments.
"So…" Alice said.
I prepared myself for another question.
She didn't disappoint, but yet again, it wasn't one that I was expecting.
"What's up with you and the FBI Agent?" She asked.
I choked on my drink a little and had to cough a few times. She laughed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Don't give me that. You and I both know that you're practically stalking him." She said, laughing once again.
"I'm not stalking him. He's just…interesting." I said, circling the rim of my glass with my finger.
"Mmmhmm…sure." She said, smiling as she took a sip of her ice tea.
I avoided her gaze and looked around the room.
My eyes snapped back to a face I recognized.
"Hey, can you excuse me for a sec? There's someone over there that I need to talk to." I said to Alice, not really waiting for an answer as I slid off my stool.
I started walking across the room, weaving in-between people, stopping right in front of the table.
"Hello Seth, fancy seeing you here." I said, looking straight at him, he paled slightly.
"I was wondering if I could talk to you..." I trailed off; glancing at the two other guys he was sitting with.
He cleared his throat and said, "Guys, give us a moment." They obediently got up and left.
I took the seat across from him.
"What do you want Scarlet?" He asked, still a little on edge. Apparently he didn't like our last encounter where I made him come with me into the FBI building.
"What makes you think I want something? Maybe I just missed you and wanted to say hi." I said, giving him a smile.
"So…you don't need me to do something?" He asked, hope evident in his tone.
"Oh, well no, I still do." I said, still smiling.
He let out a sigh and put his head in his hands.
We still weren't even, and he knew it. But if he could get me what I needed, then I might be willing to consider letting him off the hook.
"Alright…what do you need?" He asked.
I smiled.
EPOV
I was back at the office now, sitting in my desk chair.
Rosalie was sitting in the chair across from me, holding a print out of the picture of Scarlet.
Neither of us had said anything in a while, we were still trying to absorb the enormity of what we had uncovered.
I had gotten dozens of handshakes and pats on the back from colleagues all afternoon. Director Aro had called me into his office to congratulate me.
Rosalie got a share of the glory as well, but she didn't seem to know what to do with it.
From the agents who hunted after the thief before me, I received mixed responses.
Some congratulated me greatly, understanding how difficult it must have been for me to get as far as I have.
Others…well, they envied me for being able to succeed where they failed. I tried not to let it get to me.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when the silence was broken.
"She is very pretty." Rosalie said.
I looked up at her, "Yeah…I suppose."
"What do you mean, 'you suppose', she's gorgeous. Pretty girls do not grow up to become thieves. They grow up to become lawyers and doctors. Not someone who ends up on the FBI's most wanted list." She said, looking back at the photo.
"So why do you think she did?" I asked.
She shrugged, "Could be any number of reasons, something could have happened to her that completely turned her life around. That would be the most likely."
She looked at the picture, as if the answer would somehow come to her if she stared at it hard enough.
"Anyways," She said, readjusting herself and putting the picture down on my desk, "I'm just saying, that when we catch her, and we will catch her, that I want be able to talk to her." She said, giving me a look that said it was not optional.
"Sure." I said, "But just because we have her picture, does not mean it's going to be any easier to catch her."
"Well, they've got it running through the data base, and if she's been arrested before or is in the system, we'll find her. And maybe we can release the picture to the media." She suggested.
"We can't put it on the news. If she sees that, if she knows that we have her picture, she'll disappear faster than anyone can spot her, and then we'll have no chance at catching her." I said, looking at the picture that was smirking up from where it rested on my desk.
"Well, at least today we are one step closer." She said, standing up from her seat, to which I followed.
I followed her out my office door, flicking off the light switch as I went.
"Are you coming?" She asked from where she stood inside the elevator.
"I just want to check something really quick, then I'm going to leave. I swear." I said.
She didn't seem to believe me, but decided that she didn't want to stick around to make sure that I left the office at a decent time.
It was quiet in the office as I walked over to the wall that housed the pictures of the most wanted criminals.
For the first time in many years, the frame above the title, The Scarlet Thief, had a picture.
BPOV
"I'll look into it, but I'm not promising anything." Seth said.
"That's all I ask." I said, rising from my chair.
"I'll let you know when I've got it or not." He said, I nodded.
"Thanks." I said.
"I'm just curious. Why do you want this so bad? It doesn't seem like something that would be that useful to you." He asked, looking up at me from his seat.
"It's personal, and important. So, please try." I said, my tone serious.
He nodded, detecting the gravity of the job I gave him.
I walked back across the room and downed the rest of my drink, Alice watched me with curious eyes.
"You okay?" She asked, her eyes glancing back to where I just was.
"Yeah, just saying hi to a friend." I said.
"You have friends?" She asked.
"Not many." I stated, taking another large gulp of the fresh drink the bartender placed on the counter.
"Well, consider me added to the list then." She said, holding up her drink to me with a smile.
I looked at her for a second, before returning the smile, picking up my own glass and touching it to hers with a 'clink'.
A/N: Alright, so this chapter was more filler then excitement, but I assure you it was a very important chapter, it had a lot of important information vital to the story. A lot of you have been asking me if there is going to be romance in this story, so here is my answer: Have patience, this story is labeled as a crime/romance story, so naturally the crime comes first and then there will be romance. So if your reading this story for the exciting crimes, you won't be disappointed, if you are reading it purely for the romance, you won't be disappointed either, you're just going to have to wait a little longer. I know exactly where I'm going to go with it, and as an avid reader of this story you're just going to have to trust me. :P
