Chapter 2

"Here you go, Kevin," one of the others said as they handed me the stack of papers I had requested earlier.

"Oh, thanks." I moved my lunch out of the way and put the papers down, no longer paying attention to the others around me. I looked at the top of the pile. Clarice Swan was first. I didn't find anything interesting, much to my dismay. She married Leonard Brendenburg at the young age of nineteen, shortly after her birthday. She was a faithful wife, up until the day she was killed six years later.

Leonard Brendenburg had something of interest. He married Ms. Swan at the age of twenty-two. Shortly after their marriage, his parents died under unknown circumstances, leaving everything to him. He had at least five bodyguards around him at all times, and seemed to be a paranoid young man. One of his artifacts were stolen, though he suspiciously refused to tell the authorities what it was. He moved two days later, and never stayed in the same town more than two months.

My gut told me he had been on the run. That my suspicions were correct. Whoever killed them had followed them here, where the Brendenburgs had given up running. I put all of what I learned in the file, and went back to the crime scene. As with the last twenty times, I was convinced I had missed something. Something vital, that would piece it all together for me. I refused to let this case beat me.

I stood in the Brendenburg's bedroom twenty minutes later, staring at the place where the bodies had been found. I looked around the room again. Everything was still in place.

"Why can't I figure this one out?" I muttered. "There has to be something..." I turned and left the room to look around the rest of the house, but found nothing. By the time I had given up and signed out of work, it was five. So, I headed to my favorite bar.

Cindy and Will looked happy to see me when I came through the door. I found that fitting, I hadn't seen them in a few days after all. I sat down in my usual seat at the bar and Will came over.

"How's work been?" Will asked, placing my usual drink in front of me.

"Infuriating. I'm on a new case, and I haven't been able to find a single piece of evidence. It's really getting to me.

Will laughed.

"There's something else that's been bothering me, as well. A man named David King. I met him only once, when he fixed my sink. I don't know much about him, and can't get him off my mind. Hey, don't give me that look. "

"Sorry, sorry. Let's see... There's not much I can tell you, Kevin. He came to town a few days ago. He asked if the Brendenburgs were here. I figured he was a friend, and told him. He's been here every night since. Always orders Scotch. Keeps to himself. What is it? You look a little pale." Will leaned over the bar, looking at me.

"You said he asked about the Brendenburgs? Shortly after arriving?" I knew I had my killer now. I stood, ready to leave.

"Y-yes. Kevin, he's probably just a friend. You can't possibly think-"

"How long ago was that?"

"Four days ago. Kevin, he's a plumber. There's no way he cou-"

"Where is he?" I demanded.

"He just left. Kevin.."

I didn't hear what he had to say, and I didn't care. I had a lead, and wasn't about to let go of it. Out of the bar, I looked around. David was walking down the street to my left. I went after him, speaking when I got close.

"David King, I have some questions for you." He looked back at me before breaking into a run. 'Dammit," I thought as I started running after him. I followed him for a while until he turned a corner and vanished. I looked around, but couldn't see him anywhere. Tired, I decided to go home. That's when I realized he had led me right to the apartment complex that I lived in.

That immediately put me on edge.

I was cautious as I went up to my apartment, relived just a bit when I found that my door was still locked. I kept my guard up, however, as I unlocked the door and entered the first room . Nothing seemed out of place, so I ventured farther and had soon checked every room. Finding that I was alone in my home, I made myself a late dinner before grabbing some pajamas and going to take a shower.

I had a lot to think about, and found that the shower was helping me sort through at least parts of it. What I couldn't figure out was anything about the mystery that David King still was to me. I knew he was handsome, especially those beautiful eyes. At the same time I knew he was dangerous. That I should stay away from him, and just give up the case. I couldn't possibly do that. For my own sanity, I had to learn everything there was to know about him. Noting could keep me away from him, except death itself. I sighed as I let the water trail down my face and neck, dwelling on those thoughts. That's when I realized I wasn't alone. My heart beat harder and faster as I turned slowly, starting to shake. Those piercing eyes I remembered all too well were staring at me, and I could do nothing but stand there. His arm moved, I could see it out of the corner of my eye, and I screamed. One of his hands closed around my throat, cutting off my scream. He raised his other hand, and I could see that he was holding a knife. My eyes widened in terror as I realized that I was about to die. I struggled against his grip, taking a large gasp of breath once he let go. I was expecting him to grab me again as I moved away as best I could. He looked at me strangely before leaving my bathroom. I didn't dare move until I heard my front door shut behind him. I shakily got to my feet, too startled to do much of anything. I knew I should report the incident to the police, but couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone and call.

The need to know about David was stronger now, and I knew there could be no turning back. With that resolve, I got ready for bed. As I lay there, waiting for sleep to take me, I came to realize three things with absolute certainty.

First, David King was a killer.

Second, there was a part of him that wanted me dead.

Third, I was in love with him.

There was nothing I could do to change any of those facts, except what my soul would not allow.

I had to do it. That line is what gave me the idea for the story in the first place.