Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments on this story. I'm blown away by the response it has received.
I should point out that I was perhaps a little unclear in the prologue. David is Killian's partner. Gold is the medical examiner. I hope that helps.
Killian seemed to sense the rapidly building panic within Emma, as he quickly raised his hands in submission and explained, "My niece is a big fan of yours. She has your posters on her bedroom walls."
"Oh, um… thanks," she told him, as she stepped back to pull the door open wider in invitation. "Come in. I'm sorry. I guess this whole thing has just made me a little jumpy."
"That's completely understandable." Killian took a good look around at the obvious luxury the rather nervous looking Emma Swan lived in. He knew it wasn't exactly her fault, but in that moment, he couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards her for it. Emma Swan had probably never worked a full-time job in her life. And yet there she was, living in a house that was far too big for just her, without the worry of how she was going to pay her bills for the rest of the month.
He, on the other hand, had worked hard to get to the position he held with the FBI. He usually put in more hours in the average week than he imagined Emma Swan ever had before, during her busiest working times. And while he was finally in a somewhat comfortable position in life, he'd had to watch as his big brother struggled daily in his own. Liam was a single father, attempting to balance the raising of his daughter with the need to hold down a steady job that would keep them both fed and housed.
"So, what is it that you wanted to show me?" he asked, attempting to shake off the negativity he could feel building within him.
"This." Emma nodded her head to the package that was sat on her sofa, and Agent Jones quirked a brow in her direction. "I couldn't bring myself to open it," she explained.
"So how do you know it's relevant to the case?"
"It's the same. Everything's the same."
Agent Jones reached into a pocket of his black woolen jacket to pull out a pair of latex gloves, that he quickly slipped on, before he picked up the innocent looking box from the sofa. As he turned it over in his hands, the first thing that caught his attention was the familiar, elegant handwriting that had addressed the package to, My Darling, Emma Swan.
"There's no address," he noted, as he continued to examine every inch of the box. "Were the others the same?"
"Um… I can't remember," she replied honestly. "I still have them, though."
"I'd like to see them, please?" Emma nodded her agreement and quickly scampered from the room, as Killian pulled out a pocket knife, sliced easily through the tape on the package, and opened it up.
On top was a letter written in the same handwriting as the notes they had found stuffed inside each victim's mouth. While the letter was written on bigger stationary, Killian would be willing to bet his car on the fact that the lab would confirm it to be the same type of paper, and the same brand of ink, as those they had taken from inside their victim's mouths.
My Darling Emma,
I saw you again yesterday.
You still look so sad.
I wish you would smile for me again. You look beautiful when you smile. I miss that.
I hope that my gifts are helping to achieve this. I have another one for you today. I tracked down that stuck-up little bitch who thought she was better than you. She won't be rambling on to all of her idiotic followers any more.
Now she's as ugly on the outside, as she is on the inside.
I hope you like my gift.
Why don't they make you smile, Emma?
I do it all for you. All to make you happy again. I just want to make you happy. Is that really such a bad thing? Why don't you ever let me know that you're receiving these? Why won't you smile for me? Is that really too much to ask for?
I just want to make the woman I love happy again.
Look what you made me do!
"Wow," he mumbled to himself, as he read the note over again, and then once more. Whoever was behind the attacks was clearly unstable. Their letter had gone from showing their obsessive love for Emma, to blaming her for the crimes they had committed.
"Here," Emma interrupted, setting two identical packages down next to him on the sofa, before she turned away from them to pace in front of her fire. "My lawyer said I should burn them. But… I couldn't bring myself to do that."
"Your lawyer needs to be disbarred," Agent Jones mumbled, as he pushed the letter aside to pull out the large envelope underneath it. "Oh God."
The pictures in his hands were perhaps more disturbing than the actual crime scene had been. They flicked from showing a clearly terrified young woman, bound to a steel chair; to showing her horror and pain as the killer inflicted his torture upon her; all the way through to the actual act of slitting the victim's throat, and then, the mutilation to her body that had taken place post-mortem.
Killian was starting to feel less resentful and more sorry for the woman who was clearly suffering in front of him. He'd seen some crazy shit over the years, and some of that still haunted his dreams. But Emma Swan didn't have the years of training, or the experience behind her that he did, to help her deal with what was currently happening.
He had no idea how she hadn't yet buckled under the pressure of it all.
In that moment, Killian saw her more as a scared young woman, than he did as an international pop star who didn't deserve all of the wealth and luxury life had blessed her with.
"What's this?" he asked, as he fished through the boxes of chocolates, rose petals, and the soft, stuffed bear that had also been placed into the package, to pull out what appeared to be a jewelry box.
Emma turned back to see what he was holding before she turned away again quickly. He didn't wait for her to answer. Instead, he flicked the catch on the lid, and carefully peeled back the white satin fabric that was inside.
"Jesus Christ," he blurted out, the moment his eyes landed on the severed finger underneath it all. He slammed the lid down quickly, before placing it, and everything else, back into the cardboard box it had been sent in. "Did the rest of these packages contain the same items?" he asked, his voice hardening as he turned his full attention up to the young woman pacing before him.
"Yes," she whispered, reaching for the warm glass of whiskey that was still stood on top of her liquor cabinet.
"And you didn't think to call the police?"
"I was going to, but Regina said that it was just an elaborate prank, and that I didn't need to get tangled up in that kind of mess for someone with a sick sense of humor. It wasn't until I saw the news tonight that I realized what was happening." Her voice trailed off as she realized just how stupid she had been.
"Someone sent you a severed finger and you thought it was a prank?" he asked, his voice ringing with disbelief. "You do know that I could charge you right now for withholding evidence, right? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"
"Because I was scared," she admitted softly. "I wanted to believe it was prank, because if it's not, then some whack-job really is out there, murdering people because he thinks it will make me happy. And they have my address! When does he stop killing other people and start killing me?"
Killian swallowed hard as she turned large, watery eyes his way that screamed of her helplessness and fear. "You should have come forward sooner," he told her forcefully. "We can protect you."
Emma laughed a little bitterly as she drained what was left in her glass, and moved to pour herself another. "Yeah, I doubt that," she mumbled. "If this homicidal maniac doesn't kill me first, I might drink myself to death just to get those fucking images out of my mind."
Killian took the three steps forward he needed to put himself in reach of the young woman, and pulled the crystal glass from her hand, tipping the contents of it into the nearest potted plant. "We can protect you," he stated again firmly. "You made a mistake by not coming forward sooner, but now that you have, we can protect you, Miss Swan."
He wasn't entirely sure what happened next.
One minute he was looking at Emma Swan as tears ran down her face, smudging her perfect makeup, while her shoulders shook with her fear. The next, he had an armful of the popstar as she cried into his chest.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
Special thanks to Luna, Talz, Nugget, Alexa, Lexan and all of the guests for their sweet comments on this piece. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to you in person.