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  She nods.

  “You said that the man was older, how much older than the woman do you think he was?”

  She closes her eyes, trying to remind herself of what she saw, “I mean, I think quite a lot. She was hot. She looked young enough to be his daughter, but they were definitely a couple.”

  “A couple?” Henley asks.

  She nods, “I saw him give her a kiss just after he closed the doors.”

  I quickly scan through the file put together by the police officers who originally interviewed Emilia when the incident happened.

  “How have you not mentioned this before? It is not in any of your previous statements.”

  She shrugs, confusion on her face, ‘I guess I just remembered that piece of information.”

  Just like I said, they always forget things. Crucial and relevant things.

  “Did you happen to notice any identifiable marks on either of the man or woman?” Henley questions as he passes me the black notebook so I can scan through his notes to make sure he’s not forgotten anything.

  She shakes her head “Nope, nothi—.” she stops and pauses mid-sentence.

  “What is it?” Henley eyes her, a questioning look all over his face.

  “I think the man had a tattoo on his right forearm. It looked like a name and some numbers,” Emilia puts her hands on her face and blows out a breath, “It definitely started with an R. I think there was a number sixteen as well, but I can’t be too sure.”

  The letter R and a number sixteen. Fuck. I remember Rory’s Dad having her name, her nickname tattooed on his skin with 05/16 under it. Rory’s birthday. I lean back and sink into the chair further and Henley eyes me, knowing exactly the thought track I’ve just had.

  Henley stands up and I follow suit before we make our way over to the front door, “Well thanks for your time Ma’am, if we need anything else we will be in contact,” Henley says as he hands Emilia our card.

  “I’ll be sure to get in touch if I remember anything” she says, smiling and holding up the business card.

  Henley and I nod before walking back down to our SUV. Henley opts to drive again as he can probably see right now that I am as white as a ghost. He puts the key into the ignition and the car roars to life. He pulls out from the street and it is not too long before we are on the main road heading back to the precinct.

  “Rory’s birthday is the sixteenth, right?” Henley asks with hesitation edged into his voice.

  I nod, “Sixteenth of May and he also has her nickname on his arm.”

  He shoots me a look before positioning his eyes back on the road, “What do you mean her nickname?”

  Oh shit, I forgot that I was the only one that knew Rory’s actual real name. I guess we are passed the point of keeping secrets considering that all evidence points to her father.

  “Rory is her nickname, I gave it to her, but she’s always preferred it. She hates her real name and she basically swore me to secrecy.”

  He laughs and shakes his head, “What are we five?”

  I groan before running a hand through my hair, “Her name is Mallory.”

  He scoffs, “Mallory, definitely not as sexy as Rory hey.”

  Don’t I fucking know it. Rory falls of the tongue, Mallory sounds like a name my great-fucking-aunt would have. What the fuck were her parents thinking. Were they trying to torture the poor girl. As soon as I noticed a few people laughing at her name I knew I needed to do something about it. I’m pretty sure she’s even had her name changed legally to Rory, at least she said she was going to do that as soon as she was old enough to change it herself.

  “I guess we need to tell her.”

  Henley nods as he stops at a red light, “We need to get a picture or something to see if Rory’s Dad actually has a tattoo. We can show it to the witness then and see if it looks familiar to her.”

  I nod, “Good idea, I’ll mention it to Rory tonight. Better it coming from me.”

  Henley agrees before putting his foot on the accelerator as soon as the light turns green. I still cannot get over that in a matter of months Rory has come back into my life and we are looking for a serial killer together. A serial killer that all arrows are pointing towards being her father. If anyone asked me how I thought this year was going to go. I would bet my whole life and money on it being anything other than this.

  I am not looking forward to telling Rory the new information. It was hard enough trying to erase the look on her face when we found out the fingerprints belonged to her father. I think this last piece of evidence might just push her over the edge. She tries to act strong and tough, she tries to act like it’s not bothering her, but I know her all too well. I know her better than anyone else despite not seeing her for years.

  I know her, and this is going to be her breaking point.

  12

  Rory

  My whole-body flinches as my feet touch the cold, white ceramic tiles as I step into the shower. I reach out in front of me and turn the silver faucet on. Water instantaneously gushes from the metallic shower head above me, the water quickly turning a temperature I can withstand. I slither my whole body under the showerhead, closing my eyes as the warm water soaks through my skin. My whole body relaxing with every droplet that touches my skin. I lean against the cool tiles and my whole mind goes foggy. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. Why. Why me? After everything I’ve been through, after all the good things I’ve done in my life so far, why is this happening to me? The water continues to gush from the showerhead and starts pool around my feet. My feet no longer cringing from the coolness of the tiles.

  When Theodore asked me to meet him last night, I did not expect him to give me the news that he did. It turns out that the witness him and Henley went to see actually forgot to disclose some case changing evidence the first few times she was interviewed. She happened to witness a man and a woman, who appear to be in a relationship kidnapping our latest victim, by throwing her into a van. It turns out that the man in question had a tattoo on his forearm. She couldn’t give us much, only that she could make out the letter R and the number sixteen. It so happens that my name starts with an R and my birthday is the sixteenth of May. Like I said, why the fuck is this happening to me.

  I pick up my shampoo bottle from the floor and pour the liquid into my hands before lathering the suds through my hair. I give my hair a good wash and condition before scrubbing my body clean thoroughly with soap. I am not physically dirty, but my skin feels disgusting. I know I’ve not seen my Dad since high school, but I just have to wash my body. I just have to try and remove any trace of him from my body. He makes my skin crawl, scrubbing away the disgust is the only thing that is going to get me through this. That and maybe endless amounts of vodka. Lottie said I needed to get myself under a man. She said that’s how I’m going to forget, by getting it fucked out of me. However appealing getting my brains fucked by a sexy stranger sounds, I took a hard pass. All this girl needs is alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol.

  I scrub my body for a few more minutes before washing off the conditioner in my hair. I turn the water off and step out of the shower, my feet sinking into the grey fluffy bathmat. I walk over to the mirror and wipe away the steam covering it.

  You are not him.

  You are not him.

  You are not him.

  I close my eyes briefly and shake the thoughts of my father from my head before grabbing a towel from the shelf. I wrap it around my body and rinse my hair out in the sink. I open the bathroom door and walk into my room.

  My heart skips a beat and my feet are frozen to the floor unable to move as my eyes latch onto the six foot four heap of muscles and chestnut hair sat on my bed with his head against my headboard and his left arm resting behind his devastatingly handsome face.

  “Theodore,” I say gripping my towel, pleading to the gods for it not to drop to the floor.

  “Rory,” he smiles, his emerald green eyes hooded with lust and darkness as he rakes my enti
re body.

  Oh lord. I clench my thighs together, resisting the urge to drop the towel and let him devour me.

  “That is a very small towel,” he purrs as he slides down the bed and walks closer to me. His eyes fixated on my body.

  I look down and curse to high heaven. Well done Rory, you’ve got a barely there towel wrapped around your body. My breasts are hanging over the top of the towel, with my nipples barely covered, the material hangs millimetres below my lady bits and the coolness I can feel on my back, I can almost guarantee that my ass is on show right now.

  “Why are you here, Theodore?” I ask trying to search for my bath robe.

  He bites his lip and runs a hand across his stubble covered jaw, “I came to see if you wanted to get some food before we headed out.”

  Of course, he wants to go for food. I look around the room, realisation overcoming my whole body that Lottie is no longer in here.

  “Where has Lottie gone?”

  “To grab some food, she let me in on her way out.”

  That sneaky little bitch.

  “So why didn’t you offer her to come and get food with us?”

  He shrugs and smiles.

  “Did she tell you that I was in the shower?”

  A smirk falls on his lips. His sexy, mouth-watering lips, “She might have mentioned it. She said I should wait and well, I thought that was a great idea.”

  I bet he said he would wait. In fact, I bet Lottie insisted that he waited for me out here.

  “Well can you please at least turn around so I can get changed. I don’t want you getting an eyeful, I know you wouldn’t want that.”

  His body goes rigid at my comment before he quickly recovers, “I mean that towel doesn’t really leave much to the imagination Rory,” he laughs before turning around to face the other side of the room.

  I quickly turn around and search through my suitcase for clean underwear and something to wear. I know I should have listened to Lottie when she told me to unpack. I assured her I would get around to it but of course Karma has come around to bite me in the freaking ass.

  “How much longer are you going to take?” Theodore asks as he walks over to the window and looks outside.

  “I can’t find any freaking underwear in my suitcase.”

  “You’ve not unpacked? Ha, things never change.”

  He better shut his fucking handsome face, or it is going to meet my fist.

  I growl, “Theodore, either make yourself useful or get the fuck out.”

  He laughs, “You have such a potty mouth. What do you want my help with? Surely you don’t want me to help you search for underwear?”

  As much as I don’t want him going through my suitcase, searching for my underwear, anything is better than me stood her in my birthday suit with a man I want to devour my whole body.

  “Just help me,” I growl.

  He obliges, turning around and walking over to the suitcase. He kneels down and searches through my clothes with a giant smile on his consuming face.

  “Well my, my, my, what are these?” He says holding a lacy red thong on his index finger. His eyes are hooded and he’s practically licking his lips.

  I roll my eyes before grabbing the underwear from him.

  “Are these suitable for work, Rory? Is this not something you would wear in the bedroom?’ he asks, his voice sultry and oozing sex appeal.

  Two can play this game.

  I laugh, “These are my everyday panties Theodore,” I pause swinging the thong on my finger. “You would not be able to handle the kind of lingerie I wear in the bedroom.”

  He swallows deeply and his eyes dilate.

  Like I said Agent Riley. I can play this game just as well as you.

  “Now turn around, I need to change into these.”

  His eyes linger on the red, lacy thong before he quickly stands up and heads towards the window.

  I shimmy the thong up my legs and hoist them up. I drop the towel that is not actually a towel and quickly grab my bra from the chair before clasping it into place. I pull on a black pair of pants and a red blouse before sticking my feet into a pair of black boots.

  “Done” I say, Theodore instantly turning around.

  He smiles and walks past me, opening the door. I grab my purse and tie my wet hair up as I walk past him, “Red is definitely your colour,” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot on my ear as I brush past him.

  I think I am going to need another pair of panties.

  ◆◆◆

  It’s been two days since Theodore informed me about the new piece of evidence pointing towards my father. He asked me if I had any pictures of my father with the tattoo on show. I definitely had some pictures, but they were back at home in Washington D.C., so Theodore and Henley had to get Thomas and Fin to go over to our apartment, search for the pictures and mail them to Los Angeles. It only took them about ten minutes of searching through my family photos before they came up trumps.

  I walk into the precinct, greeting the officers as I walk past them. As I round the corner my body gets knocked back by a larger body. I look up and I instantly get sick to my stomach.

  “Rory, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Officer Meadon aka Ryan aka the man who tried to get into my pants says.

  I clear my throat and take a step back, “No worries, Ryan. Now if you don’t mind me, I’ve got some things to do.” Ryan goes to speak before I give him a look and he decides against it. He bids me farewell before heading the opposite way. I quickly catch my breath before walking into the room that has been set up especially for us.

  “What just happened?” Lottie asks, clearly noticing the sick look on my face.

  I glance across the room and Henley and Theodore look up from what they are doing to see who Lottie is speaking to.

  I advert my attention to Lottie before walking deeper into the room, “Ryan bumped into me. He was going to say something, but I quickly removed myself from that situation.”

  I look across the room and Theodore’s body physically cringes at the words I’ve just spoken.

  “Well I’m glad tough guy over there knocked him on his creepy ass. Hopefully he will think twice about getting handsy with unwilling and non-consenting women in the future.”

  “Right fucking on,” Henley agrees as he walks towards me and passes me a fresh cup of coffee he just poured.

  “Thanks,” I smile at him and take the coffee, taking a sip. Savouring it as the hot liquid travels town my throat. I walk towards Theodore and sink down into the seat next to him. He gives me a quick smile before he goes back to opening the envelope on the desk.

  “Is that from Thomas and Fin?”

  He nods and removes the photos before spreading them out on the table in front of us. Lottie and Henley walk closer to the table to get a better look of the pictures.

  “Wow, I’ve not looked at these in years,” I announce as I pick up a photo where my Dad is throwing a football to me and me preparing to catch it with the biggest grin on my face.

  Everyone gives me a sympathetic smile before they analyse the photos more closely.

  “There’s the tattoo,” Lottie says pashing the photo to Henley so he can get a closer look. He pushes his thick framed glasses up the bridge of his nose to stop them falling off his face before he studies the photo.

  “That’s the tattoo alright. As clear as day. I guess we better take this over to the witness to see if this is the one, she saw.”

  I lean forward and grab a photo of my Dad I managed to save from social media a few years ago. “Take this,” I say handing the photo to Henley. “That’s a relatively up-to-date picture of my sperm donor. She might be able to identify him.”

  Henley looks down at the floor and across to Theodore for reassurance before he takes the photo from my hand.

  “Why don’t you take Charlotte, see how her interview skill are?” Theodore says.

  Lottie smiles and jumps up, practically bouncing at the idea to go back out into the
field to interview a witness.

  “Good idea.” I agree.

  Henley and Lottie nod before gathering a few more belongings. A few moments later they head out of the door, assuring us that they will be back soon.

  Theodore stands up and starts pinning the photos to the investigation board. I look down at the photos before grabbing a few and do the same.

  “So, do we try and reach out to my father?” I had no idea that he was living in Los Angeles. Over the years I’ve taken a peek at his social media sites just to make sure that he’s not anywhere near me, but none of his profiles show he moved to Los Angeles.

  “I’ve already started to make some calls and Fin is running some searches back at Quantico. He’s looking for credit card statements, phone records, mortgage documentation, anything to provide us with an idea of what your Dad has been up to for the last few years.”

  I don’t know how I feel about Theodore’s friends being involved in this investigation. I know they are some of the best and want to help but I don’t know them, and they don’t know me. I don’t want them tarnishing me with the same brush as my father.

  Theodore turns around and looks at me, “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  He rolls his eyes, “The look that you think other people are going to think that if your father is a serial killer that you’re going to be exactly the same.”

  Damn this man for knowing me too freaking well.

  “Rory, Fin is one of the best, okay. Hell, he may even be smarter than me. Sure, he may not know you as well as me or even as well as Henley, but he’s been working at the FBI for a while, he’s not stupid. The idea of you being anything like your father would not have even entered his mind okay. Trust me, they aren’t like that. Nobody is like that. We know you’re innocent in this.”

  I know what he’s saying is completely right, but it doesn’t mean I still don’t feel uneasy at his friends looking into my life.