Harriet picked her phone up from the floor and set it on the table, switching it to loudspeaker. She could hear movement at the other end.
"What... What do you mean I've been messaging the murderer?" Harriet spoke slowly, annunciating every word.
"We searched for other accounts that have been in contact with the killer's one and your name came up. We traced the conversation and profile... it's definitely you." Andy replied, being careful to say nothing to annoy Harriet, he assumed she was in a state of shock.
"Can you send us a copy of that conversation Andy?" Zara spoke up, clearly understanding that Harriet was in no mood to talk.
"Yeah no problem Detective Sheed. It should be with you shortly." As he bid his farewell and hung up the phone, Zara's inbox binged to notify her of an email. She printed off the conversation and handed it to Harriet.
Harriet looked over it, dreading it to be the conversation with P.H. He didn't seem that way inclined, plus he was very open about his life, just not his name, which Harriet didn't mind at all because she knew pretty much everything else. However, this wasn't her conversation with P.H. It was the first account to contact her – the anonymous one.
How did she not click?! Anger bubbled up inside Harriet as she slammed the paper down on her desk.
"I take it you recognise it then?" Zara stated, sounding slightly disappointed. "I was hoping he was mistaken."
"I recognise it yeah. I thought it was just some dumb prankster. A teenager or someone who wanted to see me get worked up. I didn't bother replying to it, I just let it be. Now I wish I had done something sooner, then maybe there wouldn't be such a high body count."
Zara wandered over to a physically shaking Harriet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Harriet let out a pathetic sob and buried herself into Zara's shoulder. They stayed that way for a few minutes before she let out a breath of air and stood back up.
"It wasn't your fault Harriet; anyone else would have thought the same." Zara comforted her and strangely her words did ease the anger in Harriet's stomach. Suddenly, Harriet realised.
"He knew I was looking for him. He knew we were on to him!" She grappled with her phone and pulled the conversation up. "The messages started the night that Jason was murdered." She shoved her phone to her panic-stricken Zara.
"Detective Murray was murdered?" Zara shot back and Harriet winced as she realised she had let go of information not yet made public. She held a finger to her lips and Zara nodded in understanding before taking a look at Harriet's phone. The dates did indeed match.
"He knew the police were after him, so he decided to distract us both by attempted murder that went wrong!" Harriet could've nearly smiled that they were figuring it out so quickly now. The devil himself couldn't hide the killer from them now that they were so close. Of course, she didn't smile.
"How can you be so sure it was him?"
"What other officers knew or worked on the case? None, besides the clean up team – but they knew nothing about evidence or theories..." Harriet trailed off, suddenly remembering Officer Smith's rude interrupted the other day about the CCTV footage. Harriet jumped into her office chair and clicked back onto the programme. She wound the footage until she found the evidence of a man looking in. Harriet beckoned Zara over.
"Look." She pointed to the screen and Zara's face went white as a sheet, even though she had a fairly dark complexion. "Do you think... that it could – "
"That isn't Jason, Harriet." She spoke firmly. "But it does look an awful lot like him."
Harriet zoomed in on the face, the features now distorted.
"How can you be sure?" Harriet whispered, she wasn't even sure if Zara heard her.
"I was on the response team to Jason's accident. I saw him, Harriet. That person right there cannot physically be him." Zara thrust a manicured finger at the screen and let anger lace her words. "It seems you have a stalker."
***
The station was put on red alert once Detective King and Detective Sheed had told Captain Price about the man looking through the window. Officer Smith had sent Harriet a nasty look, one of betrayal, as if she had ruined his hopes of Jason not really being dead. Harriet didn't care.
Chances are, if the killer knew what car Harriet drove and what route she took to work every morning, he would also know what floor level and office she was on. As much as that man looked like a blurred up vision of Jason, Harriet believed he would look like a different person up close. But now they had a physical profile too.
They were making huge waves in the anonymous bloodbath, and the Captain had sent Harriet home to rest. She was thankful for the break while Zara kept guard in the office overnight. Red alert meant that someone would remain in the building at all times, at least four people on each floor. There were security guards for the building anyway, but now they were doubled and armed. If someone tried getting in where they weren't meant to – it could mean death.
Harriet took a seat on her sofa wrapped in her fluffy purple dressing gown after taking a steaming hot shower that melted all her stress. At least, some of it. Harriet flicked on the television and put her feet up on her coffee table. Her damp hair trickled water down her skin and Harriet felt totally relaxed. Until her phone went off.
She picked it up from the coffee table and noticed an awaiting notification from the dating website. It was P.H. They had spoken on and off over the past few days since Amy had arranged her a date on the Sunday night for the Friday. Harriet had been that busy that she hadn't had a chance to properly speak to him. Butterflies started fluttering around as she read the simple but thoughtful message.
'Hi sweetheart. I hope you had a good day and that work wasn't too rough on you.'
Harriet wasn't yet on the nickname wavelength, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless. She typed out a reply and laid her phone on her thigh.
'Hi P.H. Yeah, today was a bit hectic. Made a break in a tough case. How have you been?'
'Oh I am glad. Are you still at work now? I have been very well thank you, looking forward to our meeting on Friday.'
'No, I'm home now, relaxing in my dressing gown. As am I, it should be fun.'
'Which bar are we going to? It was your decision.'
Amy had told him Harriet wanted to show him a great bar in town. The only one Harriet could think of that she actually liked was The Red Room. It wasn't like a nightclub of sorts, it had a bar and a DJ at the weekend with a dancefloor, but it was much more relaxed and was aimed at the young adults, not teenagers.
'The Red Room on South Main Road. Is that okay?'
'Sounds perfect to me Harriet. I'll see you at eight on Friday.'
Harriet sent a good night reply to him and looked at the time. It was still early but she felt cream-crackered. She turned off the television and went upstairs to bed.
***
Thursday and Friday were spent in a flurry, attacking the anonymous case. As it turns out, Harriet and Zara worked pretty well together. They made a portfolio of all the information that they had gathered so far and presented it to the Captain. He discussed the next best action route to take, which involved the tech team now tracing the IP address even harder. Whoever it was certainly had a barricade around them and it wasn't breaking down easy. But Andy and his team where the best around, they would soon sort it.
Harriet and Zara were posed with the task of sorting out a team to attack when the time was right, so they were getting their best men and women together. They were also told to distribute the CCTV image to local press, to get the man's face out there. It resulted in a heart breaking phone call from Mrs Murray, but Harriet prayed that something good also came out of it.
Harriet slammed her front door shut behind her as she dashed into the house to get ready for her date with P.H. She showered, curled her long luscious brown locks and applied her makeup. She wore black disco pants, black heels and a flattering but sensible flowing top. She didn't want P.H to think she was easy now, did she?
Harriet applied a coating of nude-tinted gloss as the doorbell rang. She ran to the door, stopping when she realised her mystery man was stood just inches away from her. Taking a big gulp of air, she flung the door open.
"Hi! It's so nice-"
"Hurry! He could be right behind me!" A body dashed past her and into Harriet's living room. She let the bright smile fade from her face as she walked through to see Amy stood there grinning.
"Oh my goodness Harriet! You look stunning!" Amy gushed, her cheeks tinged pink from excitement.
"What? What are you doing her Amy?" Harriet ignored her compliment on the outside but inside she was screaming for joy that she managed to look good.
"I wanted to see what mystery man looked like, so I left work and came straight here. Although, when I realised the time I thought he might beat me here or arrive at the same time."
Before Harriet could scold her best friend for being so childish, she heard a car door slam outside and heavy footsteps approaching her door. She stood still, listening for the doorbell. Then he knocked instead. Harriet jumped out of her skin, and then went to answer the door. Amy signalled for her to stop. Harriet raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the door. Amy counted to five on her hands and then nodded to Harriet, hiding behind the living room door as Harriet flung the door wide open – wide enough so Amy could see.
"Hey! It's so nice to finally meet you." Harriet bared her teeth in her best bright smile as she took in the man before her.
He was gorgeous. He stood around six foot six, six foot seven, had dark brunette hair slicked back and styled neatly. His eyes were deep green, so dark that they could be mistaken as black in the wrong light. He had a body to drool over, something Harriet had to check she wasn't already doing. Strong arms and shoulder, large toned legs. He had dressed in black jeans and a smart shirt for the occasion. In his hand was a bouquet of roses.
"You too, Harriet. I'm Patrick Hudson." He held out the flowers. "For you, sweetheart."
The deepness of his voice melted Harriet's insides and turned her brain to goo. Her bodily functions had stopped working and left her motionless; she stood there staring at the roses like an idiot.
Roses – the killer always left roses. But roses were common practise on a first date; they were the most romantic flower after all. Harriet shook her head and took them from him, not even realising there was a note attached.
She laid them down in the living room, smiling wildly at a gob-smacked, pale faced Amy. Amy tried to reach out for Harriet, but missed and then cautiously hid in case her position had been compromised. Harriet raised an eyebrow back at her friend who tried to hand-sign something to her but failed. Amy looked worried, but Harriet couldn't believe she had bagged herself this gorgeous hunk of human. With a quick wave of her fingertips, Harriet left Amy stood in her living room as she left into the night with Patrick Hudson.
A/N: What do you guys think? Let me know!!
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