Chapter Three: The Lady by the Sea

It was almost dawn when James and Brooke arrived at his apartment. They'd done a quick sweep of Santa Monica to make sure nothing was happening and then returned to the seediest part of the city. James slowed to a stop at the garage door that was beside Trip's Pawn Shop. The tunnel they came through led to upper Santa Monica, the nicer parts of the ghetto. Trip's was a worn down old building, its white paint chipping and weather-worn, enough to the point that Trip himself had placed a piece of corrugated iron over the T in the name so people could still read it. It gave the building a sense of style, if style meant a building that was falling apart.

The rusted garage door opened up and James' wheeled his bike inside, parking it beside Trip's old truck. The garage itself was filled with rusted tools, a cabinet that housed old junk and an old fashioned boiler that looked like it was going to burst at any given moment. The only thing remotely safe about the room was the CCTV camera in the far corner, keeping an eye on everything. Trip would most likely be in shop with his eyes glued to the camera feed, making sure James didn't do anything stupid.

James did what he usually did; dismounted his bike, removed his helmet and looked up at the red dot he knew was the camera, smirking and flipping it off.

Brooke, having dismounted the bike behind him and removed her helmet as well, tilted her head quizzically at her companion. James continued grinning, swinging his keys around his fingers.

"A friend of mine; he keeps thinking I'm gonna steal his shit because I pay him to let me put my bike in his garage. He's paranoid," he confirmed, offering his hand to the lovely blonde leaning against his bike. She took it as he led her out of the garage and into the completely baron streets of Santa Monica. They walked a few meters to the door of the pawn shop, stepping inside.

It was dusty inside the shop, and it smelt of rust and old metal. It was a smallish building, the center of the room being only a few meters wide. There was a U shaped counter around the room with a cage to stop thieves. The very center of the U had a smallish window in it, a metal fence over the top. An old padlock hung from its place, locked and not opening any time soon.

There was a man with short ginger hair sitting behind the counter, safely behind the cage, his feet up on the counter and a soda cup in his hand. He was short and incredibly twitchy. James grinned, knowing Trip hadn't heard him enter the building because he was still watching the CCTV footage.

"Evening, Trip," he cooed, causing Trip to jump into the air and fall out of his seat, bringing his soda cup with him. James burst into a fit of laughter as Trip poked his head over the counter top and glared at him.

"A-asshole," he stuttered, standing back up. His white shirt was now dyed a deep shade of brown and Brooke let out a giggle.

"Anything interesting happening in the Lady by the Sea?" James asked, leaning against one of the cages. Trip scowled, shaking his wet hair.

"O-other than a s-serial killer, n-not really," Trip replied, sitting back down in his seat. He scowled at James. James grinned right back, eyeing his former land-lord.

"I can see when I'm not wanted," he teased, pushing himself away from the cage and taking Brooke's hand again. "Come on, Brooke, let's leave Trip to his stalking."

Trip was about to shout a response but they left before he could muster the courage, deciding to just scowl after the two as they left his shop.

"Who was that?" Brooke asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards a massive blue-stone building with a billboard advertising the Pier on the side. James pulled his keys from his pocket and swiped a card on the plate on the wall. It beeped twice and blinked green, allowing them entrance into the building.

James waved his hand absentmindedly, opening his mailbox on the wall. It was empty so he snapped it shut and headed upstairs.

"That was Trip, the owner of Trip's Pawn Shop. He's a bit paranoid, considering his shop is open twenty-four seven, even on holidays, and he opened his shop in the middle of the crappiest city in LA County. No need to worry about him, love."

Brooke nodded and followed James into his apartment.

It was a beautiful apartment with modern furnishings. It had high walls and floor to ceiling, red stained glass windows. The carpet in what she knew was the living room was a rich red and it accented the black walls perfectly. It was like stepping into a Gothic painting. A heavy-looking desk was positioned on the far right wall, a laptop sitting on it. A large, old-fashioned trunk was on the opposite side, locked and covered in dust. On the wall between the two windows was a large TV attached to what appeared be a surround sound system. There were two large speakers sitting next to a black cabinet underneath the TV and each corner of the room had an extra speaker. In front of the sofa was an oval shaped, glass coffee table with magazines stacked on top.

Sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed on the coffee table was a pale woman with dark curly hair. She had deep purple lipstick on her scowling lips. She was reading a news paper, completely engrossed by the article she was reading.

James tilted his head to read the front page article and smirked, putting his keys on a hook.

"You've been busy," he mused, gaining the woman's attention. She pivoted her head to look at them both, her eyebrow raised in curiosity. She had honey brown eyes, her steely gaze fixed on Brooke.

"Meaning?" she drawled, clearly not impressed by his antics.

James flopped down onto the sofa, gesturing for Brooke to take a seat anywhere. He pointed to the front article of the newspaper lazily, arching his shoulders against the plush of the sofa.

"Carnival of Death," he replied, reading the headline to her. She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, closing the paper and folding it neatly on her lap.

"Our resident serial killer strikes again, James. You know better than to accuse me of such a gory scene."

"I figured it would be right up your alley, Willa."

Willa grinned, turning her head to look at Brooke.

The pure scrutiny in Willa's eyes made Brooke very uncomfortable. She could tell that Willa was wary of her and was on the defensive, probably about to ask a plethora of questions as to who she was and where she had come from, questions Brooke was not prepared to answer.

"And who might you be, little one?" Willa finally asked after observing the petite blonde for a few moments.

Brooke bit her lip, her nerves on show. She fidgeted in her seat, playing with the silver rings on her fingers. Willa sat back in her seat, placing her legs on the ground and eyeing Brooke. Willa radiated dominance, causing Brooke to think that maybe she was the unchallenged leader of her group of friends, a group that James appeared to be apart of.

She turned to face James, hoping he would help her out like he had before. He was leaning back in his seat, staring at the ceiling. He clearly knew this was coming.

Brooke turned back to face Willa, what little confidence she had fading away into nothing.

"My name is Brooklyn Static, but I prefer to go by Brooke."

"Noted," Willa drawled, standing from her seat. James' head jolted to peer at his friend.

"Calling it a night? Aw, the party has only just started," he teased, grinning mischievously. Willa smirked slightly then headed for the door.

When she'd opened the door, she turned to look at James over her shoulder.

"Stay safe, James."

The door snapped shut behind her and it grew quiet in the apartment for a while. Brooke didn't have the courage to speak up, still playing with her rings. She was still so nervous; the fact she was trusting James after he'd saved her from Carlos was saying something as he was just as much a stranger as Carlos was. He only seemed more chivalrous, it didn't mean he was.

"Well, that was a thing," the dark haired man finally chirped, swinging his legs over the side of the sofa. He stood and arched backwards, letting the tired muscles in his back stretch and pull. He felt his back pop and stood straight up, looking at Brooke. "You can stay in my spare room if you want."

Brooke smiled politely and stood, following James towards the hallway. He led her into a room that was modestly furnished. A wrought-iron, queen-sized bed was in the middle of the room, two side tables sitting beside it, the same design as the coffee table in the living room; black iron with a glass plate on top. Thick red drapes hung over the window, pulled open to show a beautiful view of the pier. The carnival lights glistened against the peaceful sea. A black chest of drawers was pushed up against the opposite wall and had a vase on top, a bunch of roses sitting inside it. There was a doorway beside the drawers, showing off the closet inside. Linen was folded neatly on the shelves.

"I hope the room is comfortable enough for you, it's been a while since I've had a guest," he pointed out, stepping aside so she could enter the room. He ran a set of fingers through his hair. She looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

"James, why are you helping me? You have only just met me, what is your motivation?"

James blinked, unsure how to answer such a loaded question. Why was he helping her? He could have dropped her off at a shelter like he was originally going to. Why did he bring her back to his apartment, not knowing a thing about her? She could be a liar and a thief, casing the place so she could rob it later. No, she couldn't be. He was an expert at reading people and she was definitely not a criminal mastermind. She was just a lost little lamb, searching for her flock. He'd been in her position before and he didn't want to see her get struck with what had happened to him.

"Because if I don't, nobody will," he finally replied, letting out a soft sigh. "LA is a big ship, and Santa Monica is the bitch steering the damn thing into a cliff. She can knock you overboard and leave you there if you're not careful. This town will chew you up and spit you out if you're here alone."

Brooke's head remained tilted and her expression as confused as before. James sighed again, walking over to the tall boy and retrieving a pair of red and white, flannelette pajamas, tossing them to her.

"I'll show you what I mean tomorrow night. For now, get some rest."

Before Brooke could muster a response, James left the room, closing the door behind her and heading towards the living room.

The dark haired man flopped onto the sofa, leaning back against the plush cushions. He closed his eyes, imagining how his evening would have been if he hadn't taken Mark Calaway's job. He certainly wouldn't have bumped into Brooke at the bus station, and he probably would have been home sooner, typing out invoices and mailing threats to people who hadn't paid their fee. His routine had been thrown a little out of whack. Not that he cared, he needed a little spontaneity to separate the boring parts of his life from each other. He loved his job, no doubt, but it did become mediocre and boring sometimes, depending on the job.

He sighed again, getting up from the sofa and wandering over to his computer, blinking as the harsh light of the sunrise seeped through the window. It's pinkish glow lit up the room, reminding James to make today something unique. He smirked, knowing exactly what to do that day.

~X~

Brooke awoke from her deep slumber to darkness slowly creeping into her room. She sat up, peering out the window at the city. The lights at Pacific Park had begun to light up, the red and gold bulbs on the Ferris wheel stuttering into illumination. She could see the lights on the roller coaster as well, blinking on and off as the carts whizzed around the track. She yawned, leaning back against the pillows. She allowed her body to wake up before she moved, stepping down onto the floor. Something squishy and soft was under her feet. She looked down to see a pair of white bunny slippers. She grinned, slipping them onto her feet. They were soft and warm, warming up her chilly toes. She smirked and stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

James was sitting at his computer when she entered the room. He was leaning back, his long dark hair hanging over the back of his seat. His arms covered his eyes as he swung back and forth on the seat. He looked adorably disheveled.

"Good evening," she mused, stifling a yawn as James looked up at her. He grinned, thin blue bruises underneath his eyes. He hadn't slept a wink.

"Evening. Sleep well?"

Brooke shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa, keeping her eyes on him. "I slept relatively well, all instances of insomnia considered."

James grinned more, his head jerking towards the door as someone knocked.

"It's open!" he called, swiveling his chair to face the door.

A young man, mid to late twenties, with short, mousy brown hair stepped into the room, carrying several bags and boxes with shop labels on them. He was wearing a white singlet with a green and white flannelette shirt over the top, unbuttoned, and a pair of blue jeans. Behind him was Willa, carrying a single bag around her wrist. She was modestly dressed, wearing a black singlet and skinny jeans. Her messy black hair was tied in a pony-tail, her fringe straightened and pushed to the side. She was typing something into her phone.

"Either you're planning on cross-dressing again," said the male, dropping the bags onto the floor and placing the boxes on the cabinet near the door, "or you have a female guest. Either way, we brought everything you asked for."

"Here," Willa drawled, shoving the bag into Brooke's face. Brooke blinked, startled by Willa's bluntness. She looked into the bag to find a small box.

"If you're going to be living with Jimmy, he needs to be able to contact you," the male said coolly, flopping onto the sofa. He smirked when Brooke looked at him, her eyebrow raised in confusion. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

"Hello," Brooke murmured, her face stuck in confused. She looked back down at the bag and retrieved the box, finding a cellphone printed on the cover. It was a relatively newer model, black and sleek. Inside the bag was a shiny red cover with diamantes on it in a checkerboard pattern.

She looked over at James who was grinning at her, hands folded on the top of his head as he bobbed back and forth in his chair. His eyes were filled with mischief, he'd obviously been planning something all day while she'd been asleep. He cocked an eyebrow at her and stood, bowing slightly.

"You're welcome for my generosity. However, it's not free," he mused, wandering over to his open apartment door. Before he closed it, another male entered the room, holding stacks and stacks of boxes. He had messy blonde hair and sharp brown eyes, his left eyebrow pierced, along with his bottom lip on both sides. Behind the stack of boxes, Brooke could see he was wearing a red, form-fitting t-shirt and tight black jeans.

James snapped his fingers, regaining Brooke's attention.

"Here's the deal, kiddo," he mused, retrieving his keys from beside his laptop. He began removing a deep purple key from his key-chain, explaining to Brooke exactly what was going to happen. "You can live with me until further notice, on the condition that you pay your own way. Which means rent, utilities and a security deposit."

Brooke blinked, her temper starting to bubble. Who was he to dictate how she lived her life? She had never asked for his help, never wanted it. He could have let her be at the bus station, she would have found her way somehow. Just because she was female didn't mean she couldn't look after herself.

James smirked, tossing the key to her. She caught it, scowling down at it and throwing it down onto the sofa. He rolled his eyes.

"Brooke, this town is not somewhere you want to be if you don't know where you're going," he lectured, stepping over to her. There was a pin drop silence in the room as he stood almost nose to nose with the blonde. She looked up at him, intimidated and slightly frightened. He was an imposing figure. He smirked down at her. "My name is James Landau and I'll be your chaperon this evening."

Brooke blinked up at the grinning figure before her and couldn't help but curl her lips into a tiny smile. He was incredibly adorable when he took charge, even if his over-inflated ego was taking pride-of-place at the forefront of his mind. Her gaze dropped to the curve of his lower lip, spying the two, thin, silver rings curled around it. She pulled her gaze away before the urge to bite them took over and she grinned up at him.

"I look forward to whatever you have planned this evening, James."

~X~

The walk from Santa Monica Arms towards Pacific Park was a long one, but the night was young and people were busy going about their business. The boardwalk was lit up with spot-lights and people were admiring the view of the ocean, its waves blurring out the reflection of the stars above. Brooke couldn't help but look around as she and James walked side-by-side towards the pier. Along the street they were walking down was a club called The Asylum, a twenty-four hour medical clinic, a diner called the Surfside Diner, a storage business called the Foxy Boxes and an old salvage yard. They were headed towards a double story parking garage that lead to the pier, a hot-spot in Santa Monica.

James wove his fingers around Brooke's and lead her towards the diner, rummaging in his pockets for his wallet. She had to admire his dress sense; he wore a deep blue, button up shirt, the top two buttons popped to show the black t-shirt underneath, a pair of worn black jeans and black sneakers. A leather jacket sat lazily around his shoulders to finish off the outfit. She looked up just in time to be dragged up a few stairs and into the diner.

It had a blue interior, as would any diner with a beach theme. There was a long bar in the center, with two doors behind it on either side that lead to the kitchen. At the bar were stools, some occupied, some not, but all incredibly worn. Around the outside walls were booths, two of them occupied. On the back wall near the bathrooms were payphones, one covered in an 'Out of Order' sticker.

Beside the door where they had walked in were several tough looking men, semi-automatic guns holstered in their pants. James smirked at them and walked up to the cashier, an elderly woman with her gray hair pulled into a tight bun. She wore a black shirt and a white apron. She didn't appear to like her job very much; she wore a scowl on her face that pulled the skin around her eyes to appear sallow and sunken in. She raised her eyebrow as James stepped up to the register.

"James, how can I help ya this evenin'," she drawled, her voice croaky from years of smoking. James handed her the coupon and grinned.

"Hello, Doris, my dear. I'll get a pair of flat-white coffees to go, thanks," he chirped, stifling a yawn.

Brooke covered her mouth to force the giggles back down her throat. Her immediate thought was that he needed to go back home and sleep, but she had a feeling that wasn't part of his agenda this evening. The mischievous sparkle was still in his hazel eyes. She couldn't help watching him as he chatted with the woman. He was relaxed yet focused; his shoulders were rigid, but he leaned against the counter with an air of arrogance. He ran his thin fingers through his hair, smiling as he did so. The sleeve of his jacket pulled down his arm, revealing a thick silver chain around his wrist. Between two of the links was a metal plate. The word 'Lucy' was engraved on it, in a loopy style. This piqued her curiosity, but she chose to ignore it. It was most likely the name of his girlfriend.

James turned back to her with a pair of Styrofoam cups, smile on his handsome face. She smiled and took one of the cups from him, following him out the door and back into the streets. It was warm against her fingers, heating up her still-tired body. She'd been restless for most of the night, scared of her new surroundings. The tiniest sounds jolted her from the light sleep she would fall into and cause her to wake up. It was the most horrible feeling in the world, being so sleep deprived. She needed to relax and enjoy her surroundings, as beautiful as they were.

The sound of the waves crashing at the pier woke Brooke completely as she and James wound their way through the underground parking lot. The main entrance to the pier had been closed off due to the homicide that had happened, known in the newspapers as Carnival of Death due to it taking place at Pacific Park.

James leaned his head towards Brooke as they stopped behind a pillar, sipping their coffees.

"One of the many reasons an information broker like myself will never be out of work," he whispered, nudging his head towards the two policemen talking behind the fence.

"I've seen a lot of shocking things in my time on the force, but that pier... that's the kind of thing that'd make you lose your faith in humanity." The first cop sounded very assured, as if he hadn't seen anything like what was apparently at the pier. Brooke tilted her head as she waited for the conversation to continue, slightly intrigued.

"I've gotta say, that's the second worst thing I've ever seen," the second cop replied, not as assured as his friend.

"Poor bastard down there was torn in two. By the looks of it, you'd think someone had tied him to two horses and raced them in opposite directions. What could you have possibly seen that's worse than what's down there?"

"It was about three years ago, up in Malibu; we found this guy on the beach. Looked like... I don't know... an animal attack."

"Shark attack?"

"No, I've seen shark bites, this was something different. Like whatever killed him knew what it was doing. The head was missing, the hands were missing and... and there were these slashes, but..."

There was a beat before the first policeman laughed.

"Bullshit."

"No, no man, the guy was literally slashed to ribbons. The worst part was, I was waiting for the meat wagon and the whole time I felt like someone was watching me."

Another snicker. There was a jingling sound as the second cop shoved the first against the gate leading to the pier.

"I swear on my badge today there was something just out of sight, man, and for a second I thought about running for the squad car and getting the hell outta there. To this day it makes me think of what else could be out there."

Dusting himself off, the first cop let out another full-bellied laugh. James smirked as he watched them.

"Maybe it was a werewolf?" The cop let out a howl to emphasize his point. His partner groaned and shoved him back against the gate. "Or maybe a vampire."

"Forget it, you ass. This is why you didn't get invited to Hernandez's wedding, Ted."

The conversation switched to a softer topic as James led Brooke back the way they came, heading back towards the main street. A light rain began as they made they way passed people in the street. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, it was pouring rain and they had to scramble to get inside so they didn't get wet. James shook his head, flinging tiny droplets of water everywhere. Brooke looked back out into the street as thunder rumbled.

"Thank the Gods we made it inside before it got too crazy out there," James said, grinning at her. She tilted her head as he checked his mail box. He removed an unmarked envelope and a few bills before closing it and heading up the stairs.

They reached the apartment and stepped inside, blasted by a wave of warm air. James flopped down onto the sofa flinging the bills onto the coffee table. He ripped open the unmarked envelope and emptied its contents into his hand; a clip of money and a small card.

"'Thanks for the help'," he read, his fingers playing with the money in his hand. "'As always, you were right and I should learn to trust you more. My boss is very happy. You'll find payment inside, plus tip. Thanks, Merc.' Another satisfied customer." James looked up at Brooke as she stood by the door, confusion written all over her pretty face. "What?"

"What exactly is an information broker?"

James smirked, sitting up and dropping the money on the table. He took a deep breath and looked up at her.

"People pay me large sums of money to find information, people... you name it, I can find it. I'm not good for much else. What I do is technically illegal as I'm not licensed." His eyebrow raised and he laughed. "I also double as a bounty hunter when work is slow."

Brooke nodded, gesturing to the door behind her. "And that trip to the pier?"

"To prove that Santa Monica, The Lady by the Sea, is not all she's cracked up to be. We have a serial killer on the loose, though it's not my job to find them. I went to the pier tonight to get information so I can stay away from them. I've dealt with killers before; if I stay out of their way, they stay out of mine. Survival of the fittest at its finest." He sighed and turned away, as if a memory had floated into his head and he was hiding his eyes from her.

Brooke felt the blood drain from her face at the mention of a serial killer. Had she chosen wrong in which city she moved to?

"Will I be safe here?"

James turned back to face her, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"What makes you think you won't be?"

"It's a little hard to feel safe in a city where killers walk free and the person you live with does illegal things just to make money," Brooke retorted, arms crossed and back against the wall. She raised her eyebrow at him. She shook her head, pushing herself away from the wall and heading towards to hallway to her room. "We're not friends, James. This partnership will be beneficial for both of us, but we're not friends." She turned to look at him over her shoulder. He had a confused look on his face as he sat on the sofa, watching her closely. "Tomorrow evening you will help me find a job, because I do not know my way around this city, and that will be the end of it."

James was about to open his mouth to reply but the door shut before he could. He blinked.

What the hell kind of person went from curious to fearful to demanding to downright bitchy in less than five minutes?

Brooke was definitely going to need a reality check.