Darling (h.s)

Six

On Monday, Harry and I continue business as usual, and the Seattle files arrived on my desk this morning. While examining both previous cases and comparing them to ours, I found a couple of similarities between the victims. One, they're all white males nearing their thirties. Two, all were charged with white collared crimes, but they were dropped. Three, all are from Los Angeles. Meaning the next victim might be here. And my guess it's a shady businessman that walked away scot-free, especially ones who've morally wronged someone else. So the killer is in Los Angeles lurking in the streets at night.

I did some extra digging to look in our records to see who we had charged with similar cases. Two people fit my suspicions, and I arranged to meet with them tomorrow. Maybe they're connected to the killer. Harry has another theory on the killer but decided to pursue it without me. I sense it's because he's still upset about how our date went. Whatever the reason, I decided to give him some space today.

By evening, I walk home again alone. I pass a bus stop where a couple of people waited. A strong musk wipes the air, and I recall a conversation with Harry.

"Why don't you just take the bus? Isn't walking alone scary?"

"I hate public transportation makes me always feel so anxious," I shudder at the terrible memories of a man groping me on the bus. That wasn't the last time it happened, so I just stopped riding after too many sexual assault incidents. I didn't feel anxious when walking, well, not until recently. I do not know if I am going mad or if someone is following me. The notes I got a couple of days ago certainly don't help either. I can't help but think it's not just a stupid prank.

"Well, if you ever need a ride home, let me know, alright." I nod, hugging him goodbye.

I still have his scent in my nose: a hint of citrus with a mix of floral and intense tones of a combination of amber and musk. I never smelled a cologne like that before, and it smelt heavenly, fusing with Harry's natural scent.

Someone stumbles beside me. I jump, bringing me back to reality. A drunk man tries to walk straight as he staggers around. I walk faster, trying to get away from him. I sigh once I believe I am safe.

Suddenly, I am pushed against the wall, and the drunk man has me pinned with a knife to my neck. I don't smell a drop of alcohol on him. He pretended to be drunk to trick me into thinking he was no serious threat, and it worked since I let my guard down. I choke on air, terrified of what he's going to do, as his greasy fingers touch the side of my face. I wonder if this is the man that's following me, and he now is striking after hiding in the shadows for days.

"Mm, you just thought I was a stupid drunk, jokes on you," he wickedly grins, bringing his hand to my leg and hiking up my dress. His callous hands slide up my thighs, making my face cringe in disgust.

"Please just leave me alone I don't have anything you want," I beg. I can't reach my gun inside my coat. The knife is practically touching my throat one false move, and the blade can cut me.

"Oh, but you do," he grabs my purse and takes out the money I had in there. "Oo, what's this," he pulls out an envelope that had all of my savings for a car. I was going to buy one this afternoon but unfortunately had too much work to stop by the dealership.

"Now let's have some fun," he smirks, putting the money he took in his coat pocket. I plea for him to stop and leave; he took all my money. The last thing I wanted is for him to violate me. His hand grips tightly around my wrist, making it difficult to move while he pressed the knife closer to my throat.

"Someone help me!" I shout, but the guy muffles my calls with his filthy hands.

"Shut up, bitch," he snaps.