Everyone knows the shortest point between A and B is a straight line, they also know the best way to an FBI Agent is through the ones they love…
CHAPTER ONE
Agent Megan Reeves sighed and rubbed her tired eyes as yet another file turned up nothing. Megan reached over and grabbed another fifty page long file from the receding pile, when a hand that was placed upon her shoulder made her jump.
"Oh sorry Reeves, I didn't mean to startle you." Megan turned her head to be greeted with the apologetic and equally tired eyes of Don Eppes. She held his gaze for a moment before looking back at her work. With her nose once again in the file she mumbled to Don.
"It's alright; I thought I was the only one here," she said not removing her strained eyes from the paper before her.
"Megan you've been at these files for hours now, I think it's time you went home and got some rest," Don stated with concern evident in his voice.
"Says you who looks' as though he could sleep for a year." Megan began. "Besides Don, I know we missed something, and I want to know what it is we've miss. Plus I am too irate to go home," she finished, not moving. She could feel her boss's eyes upon her. Don sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, and rest against her desk. Their gaze met once again, and the two studied each others features before Don spoke.
"I know Megan, but we'll be able to work a hell of a lot better with fresh eyes," he paused. " I'll make you a deal; what do you say to going to grab a bite to eat, and then we will determine if we are both refreshed enough to comeback and finish going over these files?" Don finished making a grab for Megan's jacket before she could answer. Megan sat firmly in her seat hesitant about taking the break. A glint began to appear in Don's tired eyes, as a small smile crept upon his features.
"There'll be a free cup of coffee from Dolcini's, plus the department is paying."
"Oh in that case, what are we having?" Megan asked getting to her feet. Don let out a laugh at her sudden burst of energy and new found attitude towards breakfast.
"Come on, let's go eat," he said leading her towards the elevator.
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In a darken Los Angeles apartment newspaper clipping littered the floor. Many of the clippings contained titles such as; "White Rose Kill Strikes Again", "Serial or Copycat?", "Public Fear For Safety". A middle aged man with jet black hair, and ice blue eyes, sat amongst the clipping littered floor, finishing the final touches to his letter when a muffled scream bout a smile to his handsome features.
"Oh coming honey pie," he said a southern accent palpable in his voice, as he pulled out a hunter's knife from his back pocket, the dying moonlight catching the blade. He picked up the letter and waltzed into the room where his new found toy met him with horror filled eyes.
"Don't worry darling, this will only hurt a little bit," he said with a twisted smile. The woman began to move around and his hand clamped tightly over her mouth when she tried to scream. Using his weight he pinned his victim down. His heart rate increased as she began to struggle extensively under his weight. With his free hand he punched her in the face twice, stunning his young, scrawny prey. He took the opportunity of her stun state to raise the knife; the blade capturing the woman's terrified expression before the final blow.
With a satisfied look upon his face he rose to his feet and look at his work. The victim lay sprawled on the blood soaked sheets; her blonde locks now stained a red colour. Smirking at his victim, he lent down and placed a single white rose upon her chest before siding off the bed and walking out the door.