Chapter 2 Elodie's POV

My name is Elodie , I am 21 and I am the youngest forensic documentation examiner ever known in the police department I work in. My job requires my attention non-stop pretty much. When I am not working and doing something mundane like food shopping my mind will still be on the current case I was working on. I finished at the top of every class and I worked my butt off to get this job.

My main job now was to prove to all the more experienced officers and detectives in my department that I actually deserve and can do this job and that my observations and notes on the case file were valid. It was only made possible that my professor wrote a recommendation for any employer to ignore my age and trust my judgment and knowledge. He stated he had never seen anyone like me before and that I suppressed people he had known in the field for many years on my skill to pick out even the smallest thing that can be a massive clue , things that go missed or ignored and seen as insignificant. It was by his recommendation that I got the job , the only reason really. The captain would have preferred me starting as an intern , but my recommendation stated I was too good for that. And given my professor used to be the captain here before he retired into a less dangerous job and teaching. He was highly respected and it was hard to ignore his words. There was another reason I think I got the job too but I didn't like to think it was that reason.

In truth it was exhausting , I wasn’t living the normal 21 year old life. I wanted this. I just wonder if I wanted it for the wrong reasons , had I chased a dream that was not my own.

My mother had been a detective , she had been killed while out on an investigation and her case had turned cold. Never solved , I didn’t want to be out in the thick of it. But I wanted to be the one that could help cases like my mothers. Help when all hope was lost. My mum never got her justice , but maybe I could help someone else get theirs. I felt caged by the need to get justice for my mother. I enjoyed some aspects of the job , I enjoyed the mystery and the thrill of finding something that no one else had seen in the evidence.

But I also knew it led me to be isolated , secluded , detached from the real world and lost in a world that all I knew was danger , violence evil and cruelty. It's all I saw every day when I turned each page , looked at results of samples taken from victims and stared at horrific crime scene photos. My world was rivers of blood and dead eyes staring back at me from a piece of paper.

When I closed my eyes on a night I often saw my own dead eyes staring back at me , my blood smattered on walls like I was examining my own murder. Only this time the culprit didn’t flee; he stood over me with a helmet on his head and a bike revved in the background. Maybe I thought to myself it was why I have yet to run or report the mystery man that stared at me through my window.

Maybe I just saw his behaviour as normal now. Maybe I didn’t know what normal was anymore. Maybe I should see a shrink.

I sigh and flick the switch on the kettle turning it on and turn my back to grab a cup from the cupboard above my head. As I am bringing the cup down my cell rings. I place the cup down and pull my cell out of my back pocket. I see my fathers name flashing up on the screen. “ David “ not dad. David had never been a part of my life , not really. He and my mom split when I was young and he never really showed up when he was meant to. I was lucky as a kid if he showed up once a month. But in all honesty it didn;t feel like a loss to me as a kid, my mom was amazing. She was my everything. It wasn’t that David was a bad guy. He was just absent even when I was in his company. David is a hot shot detective in the FBI , it's how he and mom met. They crossed paths on a case one night. My mom was a detective for a local station, apparently it had been a horrendous crime that needed the FBI to be present and involved. It had been grueling for even the most trained to keep their emotions at bay; it tended to be that way if children were involved. It’s hard to detach from those sorts of cases. When they had done so, a few of them had ended up at a bar , in need of alcohol to probably help them sleep that night. My mom and David had one too many and here I was.

They had tried to give it a go for my sake , to give me a family dynamic. But it was never meant to work. David hadn’t wanted kids. David was married to his job.

I was 14 when my mother was killed and David had to take custody of me full time. But even then he was never around , I hardly saw him even though I now lived in his home. When he was there it was awkward , so I think he avoided the place more. I actually started to think he may have had a different apartment to hide in especially as I got a little older. Because he hardly ever slept at the one I was at.

I moved out at 18 and he gave me a sum of money. I think he was more than happy to help me get set up and he sent me money each month. I had tried to refuse but he stated it was to help me out while at school , so I didn't have to work while studying. It made my life easier so I didn’t argue. But as soon as I got this job , I blocked his payments to my bank. Somehow every now and then money would still get through. I think he does it out of guilt. And I shouldn’t be surprised that he has his ways to do whatever he wants , like I said he is high up in the FBI. Last I knew he was a detective but rumour has it he has moved up now. I wouldn't know , he dosen't tell me these things. I think he also had a part to play in me getting the job.

It also makes me more stupid for not reporting my stalker. I had the perfect person to tell.

“ Hello “ I sigh into the phone. Ready for more awkwardnness that will be this phone call. He checks in every now and then , and the calls last mere minutes.

“ Elodie “ his deep voice says down the phone. There's a pause , he always does that. I think it is his power play move , leaving the person hanging guessing what he wants. It's a shame he feels the need to do it on his own daughter. I wait him out. Two can play that game.

“ I have a case , I will send you the details. You’ll get paid the FBI has agreed to freelance work to you. You know get you seen and have more options and doors open “ he states.

I grit my teeth and bit back a curse. This was his way of saying that he thinks I shouldn’t be working for the small station I was working for , that I should be working for the FBI like him. He stated before that it wasn’t mentally healthy to be working where I was. He knew I picked this station because it was my mum's station. His daughter should be following his footsteps.

“ David “ I start but he cuts me off.

“ Elodie , just do the work. It’s already a done deal, no need for an argument. The details will be in your inbox by 5pm. I have to go, all other cases are to be left alone while you work on this , your captain already knows “ he states and then the line goes dead.

“ FUCK “ I hiss and slam the phone on the counter.

The Kettle whistles and I sigh once again and make my coffee. I needed to run to the store and get food. But first I needed caffeine , running on four hours of sleep was my own fault. I couldn't pull myself away from the case I was working on last night and when I did all I could think about was him. He agreed he would hurt me. What did that even mean ? I mean he hasn’t even stepped near me. And maybe it was the fact I was crazy but I don’t think he meant to hurt me as in kill me or anything.

Great Elodie , rationalize your damn stalkers actions. That helps your case of pleading your not insane.