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

Started December 09, 2018 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

"That doesn't mean you can link him to anything." "Come on Niall, how many Vaughn's can there be in the world. This just made my job so much easier." He walked her home with a roll of his eyes.

Vaughn got in the car, with Veronica. He pulled out onto the street and drove her home. He had stopped to talk to his old foster parents, and because he couldn’t take her car to the gas station, he would stay there with them for the night.

He led her into the apartment and left, leaving her alone once again. She clicked on the light in her office and went back to work. It was doubtful she'd sleep tonight.

Vaughn walked through the house, up to his old bedroom. He shut the door behind him, looking around. Nothing had changed here since the foster agency sent him here when he wes 16, and he stayed until he was 18. He looked around slowly, the walls grey along with most of the decor.

He was her main suspect, she had to be able to tie him to something. It'd just take time, that's all. She sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Vaughn stepped over to a dresser. There were photos of when he was in his teens. He had been on the basketball team. He had been good at it too, probably could have gotten a scholarship. But he chose this path

She wasn't sure what had pushed her to be a detective, she just had become one.

Vaughn set the frame down. He looked around, over at the rest of the photos. There was a photo of him with an older individual. Dr. Manuel Willard. A well known psychologist and therapist. They had helped him after the.. incident.

(Alright, great)

Vaughn woke uo with an aching headache from drinking the night before. Though it could be worse. He was sure he wasn’t as bad off as Veronica.

She'd stayed up all night researching this Vaughn character. She hadn't found much but she was getting somewhere.

Vaughn ran his fingers through his hair. He got up, deciding he would get a quick shower to get rid of the hangover.

Eventually, Roxie would stumble upon a news article. It was from about 10 years ago. The title was gruesome- “Man kills wife and toddler, son is the only survior”. The caption read: “A schizophrenic man, Jack Finley, has been accused of murdering his wife, Katherine Finley, and 8 year old daughter, Adeline Finley. A 911 call was dialed by neighbors who thought they hear gunshots and screaming from next door. When police arrived they found the dismembered bodies of the two victims with Jack Finley. But in a stunning twitst, police also found Jack and Katherine’s other child, 13 year old Vaughn Finley, alive but unconscious. After treating the son, he provided details on how his father had come home intoxicated and murdered the rest of his family. When asking Vaughn why Jack did not kill him too, he said he was unsure. Jack Finley will be sentenced to 80 years in prison, and is eligible for parol after 70. Vaughn Finley would be placed into foster care.”

"Traumatized at a young age. Covered in blood now. Yes I believe that I've got my suspect." She smiled to herself.

(shes so unsympathetic lmao)

Vaughn finished up with his shower, stepping back into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Now the tattoo on the inside of his upper forearm was visible. It was black lettering, spelling out the same Adeline. He glanced at it for a breif moment.

Inside the article were photos. There was Jack’s mug shot, and he looked like a much gruffering version of Vaughn with the dark hair and sharp features. Next to it was a picture of the other three- a younger mother with dirty blonde, wavy hair, a much younger girl with long, blonde, widly curly hair, and whatlooked like a younger Vaughn, still holding the same grey gaze and and black hair cut short. The three were smiling widely, seeming like a happy, normal family.

(It's not her job to be sympathetic!)
"Looks like I've got all the convincing I need." She printed the article and rubbed her eyes, looking out at the rising sun.

(Lmfao i know, but that is a basic human emotion)

Vaughn got dressed in a tshirt and a pair of sweats. He came downstairs, and saw that his old foster parents had already gone to work, and Veronica must have still been asleep.

(Not for her!)
She headed into work, beaming at her work which was already unusual.

(Interesting ig)

Vaughn searched through the pantry, but didn’t see much to eat for breakfast. So he sighed, going to put on a pair of black jeans before leaving. He would take Veronica’s car to the small convenience store down the road. He got there and went inside, but got a strange feeling in his chest. Something felt wrong, and the whispers were muttering.

"Got anything yet, Roxie?" "Got a lead." "Really?? What is it??" "I'm happy to announce that I've got a main suspect." "How'd you them?" "Suspicious behavior and motivation behind it."

Vaughn walked slowly down the isle. But he could quickly see that someone was crouched there, a younger woman, who motioned for him to get down. He tensed and bent over, making his way to her. “What’s going on?” He mumbled.

“Some guy came in here with a gun, he’s at the register,” the woman whispered.

These were innocent people, they didn’t deserve this. He could take an armed gunman, he had done it before. So he slowly crept closer to the counter.

"Roxanne!" A breathless voice yelled. "Armed robber on 23rd." "Corner store?" "Where else?" She sighed and grabbed her things, heading out. She burst through the door, gun raised. "Freeze! Drop the weapon, now." Her voice was steely and cold, a cheap scare tactic, yes, but any criminal worth their salt knew to be scared of her.

Vaughn had come up behind the man. The man only seemed to notice him when the woman at the register looked at Vaughn with wide eyes. He had grabbed he man by the shoulders, jerking him backwards. He heard the gun fly off to the side, and scrambled to grab onto it. The man, who was bigger than Vaughn, dragged him back as soon as his fingers latched onto it. He twisted, kicking the man in the head with his shoe to get free. He stumbled to his feet, blood dripping from his nose from where the man had struck him as he fell. He pointed the gun at the man, now, breathing heavily now as addrenaline continued to flood his nerves. His finger had been in the trigger, the whispers musing for him to pull it. But at the sound of the familiar voice, his head whipped towards her. He thought best to comply, and he dropped the gun to the floor.