If Only She Knew

11. Ariana's Theory

Present time, London...

"What was your childhood like, Ariana?" Jacob asked her as she looked straight through him.

What kind of question is that?

"Why? Why are you asking about my childhood?" Ariana frowned at him absurdly.

She had expected him to ask her about the Big B. Murders, which she investigated, despite knowing she was innocent.

Nowadays, everyone was a suspect.

"Miss Johnson. You plead innocent, don't you?" Jacob bit on his fountain pen.

What was he up to? Was this investigation even legit?

"Yes, obviously! I don't know why I've been arrested and I suspect I might be framed for something. You don't seriously believe I'm a suspect, do you?"

Jacob... one of her best work buddies.

"What I believe isn't relevant because I know you are innocent." Jacob crossed his arms.

"Then why're you doing this?" She looked at him.

He seemed no longer the pervert, warm guy she used to smoke with and whom she grew to appreciate.

...

Two years ago...

Ever since Haron Ride's corpse was found, nothing else happened, and what ensued was a month and a half of peace.

There were no more disappearances, no more alleged kidnappings, no traces of blood, not a trace at all.

It was almost as if the nameless criminal had decided to pack some flowery clothes in a luggage and go away on vacation, maybe to Hawaii to get themselves a traditional flowers lei.

All of the other possible shadows left behind by the murderer, in all of the other eight disappearances, have waned with time, and there wasn't any forensic evidence besides latent footprints.

There was also the witness evidence, friends and family of the victims whom helped by locating the missing people at a time, or a place they were last seen.

And about the time, there was the common pattern: more than half of the victims were last seen or heard from or went missing at time of night.

About the other half the police couldn't be sure, since they didn't have solid witness claims.

Like, Brandon Miles' case for example.

His wife had indeed reported him missing at time of night, but she hadn't seen or heard from him for a week prior to that, therefore it couldn't be established what time of day he disappeared.

Michael St. Clair's team didn't stop investigating, collaborating with the London police and calling witnesses for questions.

Ariana didn't stop for a second from writing her scenarios, despite what Mike or anyone else said.

One day, Ariana burst into her team's quarters, with a face full of wonder, as if she had discovered an equation powerful and scientifically propelled enough to make one doubt that
E= mc².

"So, I think this criminal is left-handed." Her high heels drummed on the floor, her papers trembling in her arms.

She went towards Mike's desk, dropping the stack on it, looking down at him.

He was fully frowning while he was drinking black coffee.

"If you don't have enough proof to support your ideas, don't even open that mouth." He was literally looking at her mouth.