forum The Stranger in the City. (Romance/Crime) (One on One) (Closed, Stalkers Enabled)

Started December 09, 2018 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

She frowned. "Work? They let you go home smelling so strongly of blood like that? Doubtful."

Vaughn’s jaw clenched at the mention of blood. You are going to get caught, you’re ass will rot in jail! the whispers sing songed before giving a high pitched cackle. “I’m a retail worker, and I was visiting a butcher who wants to sell his shop. That’s probably why,” he answered cooly, licking his lips.

"Mhmm, sure. Let's go with that." She crossed her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "Again, doubtful. I've heard a lot of stories in my life, that one was not one of the better ones."

Vaughn arched a brow at the woman, crossing his arms over his chest as well. “And who are you to have any opinion on what I’m saying?” He asked. She’ll be your end, Finley. Go on ahead, shove her out of the way. Better yet, take that handy knife that stuffed down your pants and slice her up! the whispers encouranged. No, he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t hurt women, or children.

She smirked lightly. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me. Most people do. Name's Roxanne. Roxanne Marx."

Roxanne Marx.. No, Vaughn didn’t recall the name. He was sure that it must be somthing that she has been on TV. There were no working TV’s in the gas station. “No, I don’t. Apologies.”

"Ah, of course." She pulled a small card from her pocket. "Private Investigator. The best this town has to offer. Pleasure to meet you."

Vaughn took her card, squinting at the writing as he read. “Well, it’s good to meet you, too. I’m Walker Alder,” he responded, using the fake he had been using for years. Hell, he even got it on a liscence that he carried around with him.

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" Her instincts were telling her this guy was a walking lie and her instincts had yet to be wrong.

“Positive,” Vaughn hummed. He dug his wallet out of his pants, and pulled out his very real ID to show her. He just wanted to leave and get home already.

She scanned the card carefully. Everything about it set off alarms in her head. "I don't believe you. My instincts are saying you're a walking lie and my instincts have yet to be wrong."

Vaughn frowned at that. “Well, I’m sorry that you have off instincts, Ms. Marx. I have to be getting home, now,” he said and stuffed his card away. He nudged past her and continued on his way, the whispers urging him on and on.

"Hold up a second." She grabbed his wrist. "You really think that with a major murder case like this I'm just going to let you go? Think again."

“Major murder case?” Vaughn asked in a confused tone. He pulled his wrist from her grasp. “Whatever it is, I don’t want any part in it. I don’t know you,” he said with narrowed grey eyes.

"All I know about the killer is that it's a male. That's it. I know everyone in this town like the front of my hand except for you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't believe you're a possible culprit."

Vaughn gave a look of disbelief. “I have lived in this town for years. I grew up here, just like you might have,” he snapped. “I don’t know if you are like this with everyone, but you must be very unpleasant if you are,” he added sharply before continuing to walk away.

Let him go Roxanne. Give yourself time to relax. She watched him walk away but still didn't trust him. Not one bit.

Vaughn eventually got out of sight, his heart pounding in his ears. Had she been able to hear his heat beating so roughly? He wouldn’t have been surprised. He ran a hand over his face. She was investigating his work? Couldn’t she see that he was diong good? He was making her life easier by killing men who were convicted of breating their wives and children, and men convicted of rape. He was doing good for the community by ridding the town of filth.

Emotions had no place on a detective field. Yes, these men were convicted criminals but murder was murder no matter who the victim was. She turned on her heel and headed back to the station. She practically lived there anyway.

Eventually, after about 15 more minutes, Vaughn had arrived back at the station. He gave a huff as he pushed open the glass door and shifted inside. He went behind the counter into the back room, where he quickly stripped down to his boxers, changed out of his blood stained clothes.

"Anything new Detective?" The sheriff poked his head into her now smoke filled office. "I think I've got a lead but I need to follow up on it."

Vaughn pulled on a tshirt and sweatpants. He relaxed onto his cot, curling up. He let out a sharp breath, shutting his eyes tight for a moment. He was okay, he was alright.

"You know…I can think of a couple other ways other than cigarettes that can help you relax." "Fuck off ya perv. You're lucky I haven't turned you in with all of my office harrassment evidence." He flashed her a smile before disappearing out of view.

Vaughn flinched at a knock to the door. He jerked up, knife in hand as he approached the door slowly. He jerked it open, and the girl there jumped back a bit. He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Veronica, you startled me..” he mumbled, setting the knife away.

“You must be really tense tonight, Vaughn,” the bubblegum pink haired girl laughed. Veronica was younger than him, only now 21. When he was 17 and in foster care, he was put into her foster family. They had bonded, and he grew very close to his foster sister.

She felt like an ad for detectives in the 20's. Feet up on her desk, cigarette slowly smoking, moonlight pouring through the window. Yep. Seemed pretty cliche to her.