A/N – In celebration of finally updating my iPod with everything Florence + The Machine, I decided to drop another chapter.

So…

Read, enjoy and review

Chapter Ten – If This Should Go On

On the ride home, Olivia was quiet, lost in her thoughts. She couldn't get over all that A.J had endured, all the things that he own husband had done to her. Not only did A.J suffer through it, but she did it alone.

"Liv?"

Peter's voice pulled her from her thoughts and she glanced towards him.

"Yeah?"

"Do we need anything while we're out?"

Olivia quickly flicked through the supplies at home, not only for Etta but for them as well.

"Can't think of anything."

"Ok. Home it is."

Etta was fast asleep when they pulled into the driveway. Walter had a fantastic talent when it came to wearing his granddaughter out. Peter unclipped Etta from the car seat, slinging the baby bag over his shoulder and Olivia gathered the evidence they found in A.J's home, following him inside. She shrugged off her coat and headed to the kitchen, knowing that there was a long night ahead of her. She wanted to have some sort of lead when they got started in the morning. She could hear Peter moving softly upstairs, getting Etta ready for bed. He knew that for now, she needed to focus. She decided to use the breakfast bar as the perfect site for spreading out the paperwork. She separated it all out, the tapes and the manuscripts before heading upstairs. She needed that old school tape player that she still had somewhere in her closet. She found it, changed the batteries and paused at the nursery. Peter was standing in the middle of the room, swaying slightly and singing softly to Etta, now changed into her pyjamas and fast asleep on her Daddy's arms. Olivia knew that Peter loved these times, getting Etta up and putting her to bed were the highlight for him. He always said that some of his best memories of Walter were when he would put Peter to bed and they would talk or Walter would tell him a story. He wanted Etta to have those memories too, talking and singing to her even when she was fast asleep.

"Hey."

He raised his head and smiled softly.

"She looks like you when she sleeps."

Olivia moved deeper into the room, putting her arms around Peter's waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"I still thinks she looks like you. Especially when she smiles."

Olivia pressed a kiss to Etta's head, inhaling her beautiful, clean scent. Peter shifted away, kissing Etta before placing her into the crib and tucking her in. He flicked on the baby monitor and followed Olivia out of room, trailing her downstairs.

"Do you want some tea?"

"Coffee might be better. I get the feeling I might need it."

Peter smiled and started making the coffee. He leant against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

"You were quiet on the way home."

"Did Astrid tell you about the medical reports?"

"No. Was I right?"

"Sadly, yes. But it was far worse than I expected."

Peter frowned.

"How so?"

"A.J was pregnant."

"And?"

"Mike beat her, raped her and caused her to have a miscarriage."

"And I'm guessing that there are no police reports."

"Right again."

Olivia sighed as she sunk into a seat.

"I don't understand. He basically tortured her and she stayed with him for years. The turning point came with her rape but it should have come with the first hit."

Peter remained silent as he made their coffee's, letting her talk.

"I never understood why woman stay with men who hurt them like that. In fact, I never understood how men did that. How can you do that to someone you claim to love? My mother tolerated that for years and you know what? I hated her for it. I hated her for putting up with it and I hated her for making Rachel and I deal with it too."

Olivia finally ran out of steam, shocked to find her face wet with tears. She didn't talk about this often, never had a need to. She didn't like thinking about her past, the same past that made her the person she was. The same past that made her have issues with relationships and trust. The same past that made her build up walls between her and the people who loved her. Peter stirred a sugar into her coffee before placing it in front of her. He took the seat across from her, taking her hand in his. He leaned forward to brush the tears off her cheeks with his thumb.

"You needed that, huh?"

"I think so."

"I haven't heard you talk about like your past like that before."

"Well, this is hitting close to home. Do you know what really gets me?"

"What?"

"The fact that she did it all alone. I don't know what's sadder. The fact that she went through all of that or the fact that the only people who seem to care she is missing are a convicted rapist, her money hungry editor and her abusive ex."

"Don't forget Fiona Sparks."

"Seems like she's the only one who cared enough to be involved. I'm going to give her a call tomorrow, talk to her properly and find out what she knows."

"So A.J has no other family?"

Olivia shook her head.

"Her parents died when she was on college, she has no siblings, no aunts or uncles. Nothing."

"At least you had Rachel. And we have A.J's back now. We'll figure it out."

Peter released her hand and they settled down to work. It didn't take long for Olivia to find an envelope tucked in the rejected manuscripts , something she hadn't noticed before. She pulled out the papers, freezing slightly.

"Peter, look at this."

There were ten in total, all neatly typed on normal printing paper. She spread them out across the breakfast bar, reading over them again and again. All held a terrible promise. And suddenly Olivia knew why A.J had been acting the way she had been when they had their coffee. Each with a single sentence swimming in the broad sea of white on the paper.

I am watching you.

Olivia glanced at the second one, her stomach starting to sink.

For a woman of truth, you tell so many lies

The third was slightly longer.

You don't see me but I see what you do. I watch as you continue to spread your lies.

Threat after threat were held in the pages, each getting more and more threatening. The final letter held the most horrific promise.

I need to speak to you. Clearly you have not heard what I have been trying to tell you. I will make sure you know the truth. I will ensure that you know what I can do.

In each corner, in vivid red ink, were dates. Olivia presumed that they were put there by A.J herself. If it was the author of the letters then surely he would have typed it, as he had his threats. Peter moved away from the breakfast bar and got a clear re-sealable bag from the bottom kitchen drawer. He took each letter carefully at a corner before putting them into the bag.

"We should get these checked for prints."

Olivia nodded numbly. Is that why A.J had reached out to her and then just lost her nerve? Was she trying to tell Olivia what was going on the whole time?

"Liv, you can't blame yourself. You're not a mind reader."

"I know."

Olivia sighed and pulled herself out of the thoughts, focusing instead on the tapes. She put one head phone in her ear, rewound the first tape and hit play.

"You know what gets me? Alfonso seems different to the other criminals. Most hold remorse, even pride in their actions but Alfonso…he seems to be indifferent. It bothers me.

He forgets things too. You would think, after killing so many woman, that he would remember everything, right down to the tiniest detail. On our last interview, he actually stumbled over one of their names.

I haven't met anyone like him before. Is it him? Is it me? Or have I finally found a killer that has no redeeming feature? I know it sounds stupid, but most of them do. Like Scout Segal. He murdered a man and it didn't come out until later that he did it because the bastard was molesting his daughter. He was protecting his only child. Or Victor Stanley, who killed his mother because she was trying to kill him.

I need to consult Heather on this one I think. Fiona might know something that could help too. I forget that she's a bit of a know it all when it comes to these things"

The tape ended and Olivia ejected it, flipping it over. Who the hell was Heather? She hit play again, closing her eyes and focusing on A.J's voice.

"Alfonso Culter, 32 years old. Charged with the rape and murder of at least fourteen women over a five year period. He lays claim to other victims but there is no evidence to connect him with other crimes and some women remain missing, with police suspecting some sort of link to Alfonso. Starting criminal career at seven, peeking into neighbours windows. Escalated to rape around the age of thirteen, raping a twelve year old girl on a camping trip. Placed into a juvenile facility for two years before being released on good behaviour. Media labelled him 'The Barbie Doll' killer because his M.O was tall, slim and blonde. He has been sentenced to life, even though he continues to push for parole."

Olivia heard the drag of seats being shifted and the sound of another person breathing.

"Ready Alfonso?"

"Yup. Where do you want me to begin? How does this work?"

"Basically, you just tell me about your life and why you ended up here in prison."

"Ok. I guess I'll start with my parents, if that is alright."

"Wherever you feel most comfortable."

"My mother and my father were both strict Christians. You broke a rule, you got a beating. You kept your head down and you did as you were told. We went to church for times a week and there was no such thing as praying too much. If something went wrong, God was punishing you or trying to teach you a lesson."

"When did you know you were different?"

"I was five. I remember it so clearly. It was like something clicked into place."

"What happened?"

"There was this cat, one that used to slink around the neighbourhood. I shot it was a B.B gun. After that, I found animals and killed them. I used to get excited and then would watch women in their homes, walking around getting changed. That was more exciting still. Something about them not seeing me gave me a sense of control."

Olivia hit the stop button. She didn't need those images in her head right now. She made a quick note of the Alfonso's name and the media tag, as well as the name of Heather and put in the next tape. It was much the same again, only this time with a man called Timothy Greene, a man who's crimes focused on black people, who he called an abomination. Tape after tape, interviewing killers, rapists, paedophiles. Over and over again, they spoke of their crimes with casual ease, readily opening up to A.J, who seemed to use her charm to somehow get these men to talk. Olivia paused, stretching, glancing at the wall clock. They had been at it for almost four hours now.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

He didn't glance up from the manuscript he was reading.

"She's mentioned someone we need to track down."

Peter glanced up, his attention now on Olivia.

"Who?"

"Someone named Heather."

"No last name?"

"Nope. But Fiona might know."

"Seems to me that she might know more than we are giving her credit for."

Olivia smiled slightly, nodding at the paper in Peter's hand.

"What's that?"

"An outline for her next book. And it's good too."

"What's it about?"

Peter flipped the papers back to the beginning, flashing the cover page to her.

"The Devil's Hidden Horns. Nice title."

"I thought so. It's interviews with killers, rapists and paedophiles. She seems to want to give them a face."

"As if someone needs a face to go along with their nightmares."

Peter shook his head, frowning slightly.

"It's more than that. I don't know what it is but she seems to be searching for something."

"Is an Alfonso Culter in there?"

Peter licked through the pages trying to spot the name, shaking his head slightly.

"It doesn't look like it. Why?"

"She mentioned in one of her tapes that something about him doesn't sit right with her."

"Who is he?"

"The Barbie Doll killer? Remember him?"

"Sadly yes. Did she say what it was?"

"No. But I think we might need to talk to him ourselves."

Peter nodded.

"Maybe a few others too. I want to know what they gain from all of this."

Olivia sat back slightly, her arms across her chest.

"Do you think that maybe she got into all of this because of what happened to her?"

"Maybe. Or maybe she's just fascinated by it. Or seeking answers."

Olivia shook her head.

"You can't find answers in the dark, Peter."

Peter frowned.

"That's the problem. You can find a lot of things in the dark. And none of it good."