(Y/n) watched as Jon spoke with the hunter that had literally tripped over the body that had been found by his dog. Even for an experienced huntsman, finding the corpse of another human being was something that he had admitted had shaken him. And (Y/n) couldn't help but think back to all the times she had had to speak with unsuspecting innocent bystanders, that had been traumatised by finding the discarded body, or parts of a body, left by some sick bastard that got his jollies from slaughtering people like many would, a hog.

The time between victims was concerning (Y/n). So many seemed to be happening so quickly. It was true that some murders could kill one victim very quickly after another, but six in not as many months was brazen. Many killers could leave months, years, and even decades between victims. But this guy was sending a message, a real "fuck you, you can't catch me" to the local police.  It was as if the murderer had just as much against the Starks and their people, as he had his victims, and (Y/n) wanted to know who in the local area could have such a ill will towards the family. She knew that the hunch could be a long shot, but at this moment in time she was willing to look at anyone.

"(Y/n)." Robb quietly said, as he came up behind her, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Is it ok if the doc gets his boys to move the body now?" The detective asked, as (Y/n) continued to survey the pristine scene.

She couldn't help but let her mind wander back to her childhood. She had never seen the snow when she was growing up. Never been far enough north to lay eyes on its stark beauty. But she knew of the wonders from an old story that her mother would tell her. A story of an ice queen and the three suitors that fought for the hand of the lady. In the story, one suitor was golden, proud, and arrogant. The second, was all fire and rage, bluster, and brimstone. The third and final, was made of snow, yet loyal, brave, and wise. (Y/n) had always liked that suitor the best, but in her mothers story the ice queen had always married the first suitor, and (Y/n) could never understand why. Well not until she was older anyway. And at this very moment, (Y/n) could see the ice queen's carriage come racing through the forest, being pulled by its team of stags. Closely followed by her suitors.

"(Y/n)?" Robb said again, shaking her from her thoughts.

"Er.....yeah, sorry. Get the guys to move the body. And let the doc know that we'll need everything that he can give us as soon as the bodies thawed." (Y/n) replied, as she turned to look at Robb.

"You ok?" Robb asked, giving (Y/n) a concerned look.

"Yeah. I was just thinking that's all. Well, there's not much left to do here. What say you take me back to the precinct cos I'm freezing." (Y/n) replied. Robb chuckling as he realised that the Special Agent did in fact look nearly as stiff and cold as the body they had just found.

"No problem. Why don't you go wait in the car?" Robb chuckled, realising that (Y/n) still hadn't had time to acclimatise to the cold of the north.

"I think that that is the best thing I have heard all day." (Y/n) replied, as she made her way back to the waiting squad car. The agent wrapping her coat tighter around her form as she climbed into the passenger seat.

>>--------------------------------<<

(Y/n) looked at the clock. It was already midnight, and none of them had had a break since earlier that morning. She, Jon, Robb, Jory, and several other deputies had been combing through the files, each hoping to find something in statements, in the photos, in reports, that they might have missed. But each of them had come up empty handed, and all of them were ready to call it a night.

"So, do you have any ideas, (Y/n)?" Robb asked, as he took a seat at the other side of the desk, and Jon perched himself on the corner.

"Well, to be honest. There was something that sprung to mind when I went to the crime scenes. Or should it be a person that sprung to mind. In the 1950s, there was a guy. Not a serial killer in the strictest sense, as he's only known to have actually killed two women, but he's up there with the most infamous. This guy had a strong bond with his controlling, religious mother, and when she died, he took it upon himself to make what many called a "woman suit" so that he could, in a strange, twisted, and warped way, become his mother. He would dig up the graves of recently interned woman that reminded him of his beloved mother, take them home, tan their skin, and not only make the suit, but also turned their bodies into furniture, and the gods only know what else." (Y/n) began to explain, as she rubbed her tired eyes.

"Now, I'm not saying that we have something similar here. I don't think that you need to start putting a watch on the local graveyards. I don't for one second think that when we find this guy, that he will have a suit made of skin hanging up in his closet. But I do have a feeling that all these victims are connected. That they could have owed our perp a debt, or have insulted, or even hurt him in some way. Whatever it is, I believe that our killer is getting is own back. Proving to his victims and you, that he is the powerful one, the one that has to be feared. His method of killing is long, drawn out, and painful. He wants his victims to suffer, to watch them suffer. And his confidence is only growing. He loves his work, and he's not going to stop until he's caught." (Y/n) continued, as she got up from her chair.

"Look. I need to get out of here. I need to consider everything I've read and seen. But I need you guys to think about whether there is someone that could have something against your family, or this precinct" (Y/n) told both detectives, as she grabbed her coat.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Jon quickly asked. (Y/n) turning to smile at him.

"No. But thanks anyway. You boys need some sleep. Let's pick this up in the morning. You never know, the body might have thawed out by then, and we might get lucky." (Y/n) replied, smiling at the two men, before making her way out of the precinct.

>>-------------------------------<<

(Y/n) drove through the dark snowy streets. She knew she should go back to the hotel. She knew that she should be trying to sleep. Her body was begging her to rest. But she needed to get out, needed to forget for even a few moments what she had been thrust into.

As she rounded the corner, the gaudy lights of a bar shone out like a beacon in the dark. Alcohol was definitely the last thing she needed. Being in a dead end dive in the middle of some shit hole in the north, in the early hours of the morning was certainly not recommended, but at this moment in time, even this hell seemed like a better place than her bed.

The bar was surprisingly busy for the late hour, but the north always did do things its own way. And for once (Y/n) was happy that it did. All eyes turned to look at her as she quietly made her way to the bar. She didn't care. No matter how big and bad these guys thought they were, she had faced worse.

"What can I get ya?" A scrawny, toothless, unpleasant looking barman asked, as he put a coaster on the bar top in front of her.

"Er.......I know this is a long shot, but........I'll have a shot of good vodka if you have one." (Y/n) replied, as she dropped her head into her hands. Doing her best to ignore the muffled hum of the other patrons, and the images, and information that were flooding her mind.

"There ya go, beautiful. I can give ya something else if ya would like?" The barman cooed creepily. (Y/n) pulling some money from her pocket and dropping it onto the bar.

"Not in this lifetime or any other. Just keep them coming until the money runs out." (Y/n) told him, as she downed the first shot. The barman huffing indignantly as he gave her a refill.

As (Y/n) looked at her reflection, she couldn't help but think that she looked as though she was a hundred years old. It was obvious that she wasn't sleeping enough, and more than obvious that she wasn't eating enough. And she couldn't help but smile sadly as looked at her already bloodshot eyes.

"Rough day, huh?" A voice asked, as (Y/n) continued to look into her already empty glass. She didn't want to be rude, but she was in no mood to be hit on by some horny drunk guy.

"What gave it away?" She asked harshly, not wanting to give the man the time of day.

"Well, most a these loser have been in ere all day. And not one of them looks as rough as you do." The voice replied, (Y/n) finding that she couldn't help but chuckle at the comment.

"But no matter how tired ya look. Ya still more beautiful than anything I have ever seen." The voice continued. (Y/n) sighing, as she finally turned to see the face of the man that had come to sit by her side.

She couldn't help but stare for a moment. He was quite handsome, with dark hair and a light stubble on his cheeks. But it was the wicked twinkle in his eye that kept her attention. It was obvious that he wasn't drunk, and he seemed different to all the others present. And (Y/n) couldn't help but find herself intrigued.

"Ya not from round these parts. I can tell. So, what's a breathtaking southerner doing in this hole in the wall." The man asked, as he indicated for the barman to bring the bottle of vodka back over.

"Visiting." (Y/n) told him, as she raised her glass in salute to the man, then downed the contents.

"Interesting. I do like a woman of mystery. The name is Ramsay by the way." The man told her holding out his hand for her to shake.

"(Y/n)." She replied. The two smiling at one another, as Ramsay poured both of them another drink.