Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: Wow, thanks to those of you who reviewed! It was awesome getting feedback and I'll definitely try to improve my grammar. Well here's the first chapter. I'll also warn you that I do not know the geography of California very well. Therefore, the names of the cities, town squares, rivers, etc are all fake. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

She's Back

Charlie Eppes stretched out his arms and groaned. He squinted when a solitary ray of light shone through his blue curtains. The bed creaked under his weight as his legs came from the covers. Charlie put his hand to his temple and could almost feel the veins pounding against his skin furiously. The sure signs of a hangover after a long night of scrawling away on his chalkboard. His stomach growled. When did he last have food? His brain calculated in a millisecond. 19 hours. Why did I ignore Dad when he brought me something?

From outside the door, he could hear soft chatter and the clanging of dishes. Charlie stood up and when he looked down he realized that he was still dressed in the clothes from the day before. Charlie stretched once more before stepping out of his room. He grinned when Don's voice rode along with the aroma of muffins. His stomach did some turns but it was highly doubtful that it was because of the unexpected appearance of Don Eppes. He went into the kitchen to see his older brother and father talking across the countertop. They both faced him at the sound of his footsteps.

"Don? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked after getting used to the bright light. Don scoffed.

"What? You don't want big brother taking over or something?"

"You catch on pretty quick," he answered with a grin but the grin soon slipped away when Don and Alan froze. Don leaned against the counter and stared at his little brother. Charlie swallowed.

"You guys, it was just a joke. Of course, I don't mind you coming here."

Don swiveled his head to look at his father.

"He-he told a joke. Am I not right, he just told a joke!" He smiled but the shock was apparent. Alan laughed as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Just because I tend to get preoccupied-" Charlie started. Don pointed his finger at his chest.

"Lost, you mean."

"Whatever," Charlie answered. Alan smiled.

"Well, this is a cause for celebration, don't you think? My son, cracking a joke!" Alan threw his white dishtowel over his shoulder and reached for the oven. Still chuckling, he took out a fresh plate of blueberry muffins. Charlie's stomach did another lurch and he grabbed two muffins without stopping to consider that they might be hot. Unfortunately, his hands reminded them.

"Hot! Hot! Ouch," he hissed. He tossed the two muffins and juggled them while his sore hands recovered. Don placed a napkin on the counter and Charlie threw the muffins onto it.

"Thanks," he muttered but when he looked up he said, "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Don was dressed in his usual attire with his blue collared shirt underneath his suit jacket and his dress pants and shoes. Don glanced at his watch and shrugged.

"I've got a few minutes." He scanned Charlie. "Let me guess. You were up all night solving equations."

"Dad told you," the younger man replied matter-of-factly. The FBI agent smirked and crossed his arms.

"Even if he hadn't, I would still notice. I'm not a part of the FBI for nothing."

However, Charlie did not pay attention to his brother. Instead, he was looking over his father as Alan rolled his shoulders back and forth as if to smooth out all the kinks. His eyes were a little bloodshot and there weresigns of small bags underneath his eyes. Don frowned and then followed Charlie's gaze. Alan's eyes drooped but the older son figured that it was not just fatigue that was bothering their father. Don put a hand on his father's shoulder.

"Hey, Dad. You alright?" he asked his voice laced with concern. Alan looked up and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Listen, you boys eat up. I'm going to go upstairs. Have a good day at work, Don," he said after clapping Don on the back. Then he left the room. Don walked over to Charlie still looking at the doorway.

"Hey, what's wrong with Dad?" he asked. Charlie sighed but then bit his lip. He pinched the bridge of his nose and mentally gave his brain a swift kick. He had totally forgot and he had allowed himself to get lost in his work instead of comforting-

"Charlie! What's wrong with Dad?" Don asked again. Charlie rubbed his arms.

"What was yesterday's date?"

Don frowned.

"The fifteenth? Look Charlie, just tell me, will you? I don't have time for this," he said with a tiny trace of irritation but soon regretted it after he saw Charlie's face. Don gave him a smile to show him that everything was okay.

"It was Jamie's birthday. She's 24 now. Well, anyway Dad called and he just got the answering machine like always."

Don turned to face the window. The sun's rays reflected onto his rigid face yet the warmth did nothing to soothe his sudden burst of anger. In his mind, he saw his father excitedly punching the numbers on the phone and then hang up dejectedly after leaving a message on the machine. How many more times did he need to be disappointed? Did Jamie even know what she was doing to their father? Don placed a hand on the back of a chair and gripped it tighter than necessary.

"Why does he even bother? All he's ever going to get is the machine. She's not going to call just because it's her goddamn birthday."

Charlie walked to his side and he stared out the window.

"She's his daughter. He's never going to stop."

Don straightened up and walked towards the doorway.

"I got to get to work. I'll see you later, Charlie."

Two Days Ago

A woman gasped as she clutched the stitch in her side. The raindrops slid down her face taking her mascara with it. Her blonde hair flew across her bloody face when the gust of wind blew against her. So dark. Don't know where. The young woman paused to look around. She was in an alley behind the stores and trashcans were strewn about everywhere. The streetlights were dim and barely visible from where she was standing. The slight brush of a stray cat's tail on her ankle was enough for her to let out a bloodcurdling scream. The woman gasped as she heard her echo bounce off the brick walls and the window panes. She covered her mouth.

She had just given her position away.

Shit.

The woman slipped off her high heels and sprinted off as best as she could with sore feet. The alley grew narrower the further she ran. Her ribcage pinched her heart painfully and she had a sudden bout of dizziness. Salty tears left tracks through the dried blood and mud and made for her lips. The bitter taste made her choke but she kept going. For he was after her still.

Finally the woman came to a stop. She dropped her hands to her side as the tall barbed wire fence stared down at her. Her breathing slowed and she curled her fingers against the gaps of the fence. She leaned her body against it but her eyelids shot up in a few seconds.

Crack. Crack. Crunch.

She recognized the sound. It was the sound of boots landing on branches and leaves. Her pursuer came closer and her shallow breath nearly stilled. So quiet. Have to scream. She opened her mouth but his gloved hand clasped her shoulder. The scream melted on her tongue and he put his sour mouth near her ear.

"Hello, my sweet."

Present

"Don!"

Don turned around to see his partner Agent Terry Lake striding towards him. The office was boiling with activity as usual and judging by the look on Terry's face Don knew something had come up while he was gone. He immediately placed his thoughts on his youngest sibling off to the side as he greeted Terry.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked briskly. Terry sighed.

"A woman was found buried by the riverbank of Rowan River. She looked-she looked really bad," she said uncertainly. Don glanced at her at the waver of her voice. His partner was a seasoned agent and could handle things that most people couldn't. If Terry said it was bad then…he swallowed uncomfortably.

"Lacerations everywhere but it's like….there was a design to it. She was holding a note from the murderer."

Don stopped walking and Terry swiveled to face him.

"What? He just left a note?"

Terry nodded.

"Yep. Addressed to the FBI. It was typed so we can't use handwriting for clues. No fingerprints either. Just from the victim."

"What did it say?"

"The perfect crime is art. To leave a note means that he's pretty confident with himself or it means he wants attention. He wants people to know what he's doing in order to get the satisfaction he wants. It could be both. Confidence and attention."

They walked inside the office to join Agent David Sinclair. David swirled to them while flipping through the pages on his clipboard. He licked his cracked lips and cleared his throat.

"Okay, the victim's name is Angelica Jacobson. She was 26 years old. She lived in LA for about six years. Um…she was living with another roommate named Claire Berkdale. No angry ex-boyfriends or anything."

Don nodded as he draped his jacket over the back of his chair. David handed him the clipboard and Don grimaced as he saw the pictures. Terry looked up at him.

"Oh my God," he croaked.

The body was bare but he could barely see any skin with all the mud and the blood. However, his eyes could see traces of cuts weaving and curving across her chest. He swallowed and then squinted to see more clearly.

"Are those…feathers?" he asked incredulously. His partner nodded.

"Yeah, there are exactly nine of them. Three across her chest, one on each arm, and two on each leg," Terry answered. Don brought the clipboard to his side and stared at Terry and David.

"So what does this all mean? Feathers and the note? This doesn't fit any descriptions of the other serial killers or just murderers in general," he muttered. David paced a little before he turned back to Don.

"I think he'll do it again."

Terry and Don both looked at him.

"I mean notes generally mean the guy is confident. I don't know, I just think he's going to."

Don nodded.

"Well, let's talk to Claire-" he paused to look down at the papers, "Berkdale. Hopefully, we'll get something."

The two nodded and all reached to get their jackets. They started to go out the door before one woman stopped them.

"Uh, Agent Eppes. You have some sort of an appointment with a reporter-" she started. Don waved his hand.

"That can wait."

The three walked out of the office.

Jamie sighed as she walked along the sidewalk. Her fingers tapped against the black handbag and she concentrated on her feet. One foot in front of the other. Her heels clicked and clacked on the pavement and she smiled at the sound. It felt like a calling from the depths of her memories of her mother. Her mother had always loved high heel shoes because they made her feel tall.

"Like I could do anything in the world. Whatever I'd like."

She chuckled as she remembered trying on the shoes when she was younger and how horrified she felt when she had broken one of the heels. It was the first lie she'd ever told to her mother and the guilt was too much for her to bear. So she told her mother the truth five minutes later. Jamie never lied to her mother again.

But she was no longer here…

Jamie shook her head and rolled her eyes. This was the reason why the young woman always needed to be moving and doing things. Leave me alone for a few seconds and I go all sappy. Jamie looked at her watch and scanned the landscape. She was almost at the FBI building and she supposed she could have taken the taxi. However, the later she saw her brother the better.

Tammy thought she was doing Jamie a favor when she told Fitzgerald about Don. The story would be big and important. It was also a chance for Jamie to rise to the top. It also meant that she would have to meet up with her dear older brother. She bit her lip as she crossed the street.

Maybe he won't be there and I can come back tomorrow. Or never.

Her heels came to a stop. She bent her neck back and cupped her hand over her eyes to block the sun. In just a few minutes, the Eppes brother and sister would meet. She breathed in and out.

"Well, time to face the music."

David Sinclair was not in a happy mood this afternoon. Claire Berkdale was too upset to be much of help to their case. He hadn't eaten any lunch and it was now 5 p.m. It was not usual for him to complain but when a man hadn't had any more than 3 hours of sleep it was quite understandable. But David didn't complain. He loved his job even though it was grisly and gruesome. He got along with his partners and David genuinely cared for them.

However, today he was tired and not in a good mood.

David flipped through his papers as he walked through the aisles of the office. People talking on the phone, typewriters clicking away, machines bleeping, cell phones ringing all crowded into his head and he quickly shut his eyes in order to block everything out. Half a second later he bumped into someone and something metal hit his forehead. He groaned and rubbed his head. David opened his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking and – should you be here? Who are you?" he asked staring at the young lady in front of him. Medium height. Maybe 5'5". Brown hair. Black hair. Definitely oriental. Handbag-so that's what hit me. Maybe 23 or 24 years – aw hell what am I doing?

"Um, yeah. I'm the reporter from 'Today's News' magazine. I've got an appointment with um Special Agent Don Eppes," she said eyeing him carefully. David sighed. He didn't have time for this and Don sure didn't either.

"Well, look. Do you have permission to be here? I mean-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," she said her voice strong and firm. David rubbed his eyes.

"What's your name?" he asked. The woman bit her lip and rubbed her shoe against the other one.

"My name?"

David rolled his eyes.

"Yes, your name."

The woman sighed.

"Jamie Eppes."

David stared and then frowned.

"Eppes?"

"Yes."

"As in E-P-P-E-S?"

Now Jamie was getting irritated.

"Yes."

David rubbed his chin. Was she related to Don in anyway? She sure didn't look like him at all. The ethnicity and-

"Jamie? Is that you?" a voice asked from behind. David turned to see Terry. Jamie's face brightened at the sight of the blonde haired woman.

"Terry? You work here too?" she asked. Terry nodded.

"Yeah, Jamie. What are you doing here? It's so nice to meet you! Have you talked to Don yet?" Terry asked softly. Jamie shrugged.

"Well I was just trying to talk to my brother but this agent here-"

David faced Jamie quickly.

"Wait, brother?"

Jamie brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"I was adopted."

"Oh," David answered feeling quite stupid all of a sudden. Terry glared at him but her face changed in an instant as she faced Jamie. Jamie crossed her arms feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Well, let's go talk to him. I mean, we're a bit busy but I'm sure we can-"

"You guys! What are you doing standing around? We've got work to do. Let's go," said a voice harshly. David, Terry, and Jamie turned to face Don Eppes. Don stopped short when he saw the woman in the middle. Seconds passed in odd silence. Jamie opened her mouth to speak but her older brother beat her to it.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

A/N: Well, there's the chapter. Hope you liked it. Please review. Constructive criticism would be nice. Thanks for reading!