"Men, can't live without them, can't senselessly murder them in their bed chambers." The sound of something that sounded a lot like choking barely caught her attention as she pushed her dark hair out of her face, trying to see anything past the police tape. Harriet's luncheon was all well and good, but Evelyn was more interested in the murder next door. Seemed like a rather open and shut case. Wife learns the husband has been cheating, shoots the man then herself. Open and shut cases were terribly boring, and terribly common, or so it seemed.

"What if it wasn't so simple?" Evelyn turned to her friend. "What if it was... what if it was a mafia killing! They shoot the husband, the wife walks in, shoots her too, and place the gun in her hand to hide suspicion."

"He was killed with his own gun."

"What better way to mask your murder then using the victims own weapon, no one would see it coming!" Evelyn smiled and Harriet's expression was clearly more of amusement rather then disgust or appall.

"Why are we friends again?" Harriet's falsely exasperated voice rang out questioningly, leaving Evelyn giggling a bit.

"Because we work well together, we help each other when times are hard, and I solved where your missing pearls had disappeared to."

"Still can't believe it was Granny."

"I still can't believe your parents gave you pearls when you were ten years old."

"I was very responsible for my age." Harriet defended.

"Still, I thought your Granny didn't need the money." Evelyn pondered as she sipped her tea.

"Actually afterwards we found out Granny had a gambling problem. Father barely managed to square her debts and she had to live with us and be chaperoned every time she left the house."

"I don't remember that."

"This was after you disappeared for five years." Harriet sounded an odd mix of bitterness and sadness in recollecting the unfortunate part of Evelyn's past.

"Are you mad at me for getting abducted?" Evelyn asked in confusion.

"No! No, I'm angry at the people who took you, and I'm angry they never caught whoever took my best friend." Harriet said as the frailer woman moved to sit beside Evelyn. "Remember when you showed up at my house, I'd just gotten married to Will and you show up at my door, bruised and scraped up, saying "long time no see" like you would when I hadn't seen you for a week." Harriet scoffed at the memory. "I couldn't tell if you were being silly to mask the pain, or if you truly didn't grasp your situation."

"I hadn't seen you in five years. I was being nostalgic." Evelyn dismayed, though clearly not truly, as she tried to bite back her laughter.

"You still don't recall what happened those years?"

"Not a thing. I knew how much time had passed and it didn't seem odd that much had, but what I do remember is blurry and vague. It was like I was vaguely aware of time passing yet not of what occurred as it did." Evelyn recounted.

When had she gotten so good at lying? Probably after her abduction. Oh did she remember. She remembered every detail, everything she did and everything they did to her. However no matter what, it wouldn't help anyone to share. Keeping the events to herself kept her loved ones from investigating. It kept them safe. They were protected, in silence, she made sure of it, but...

Her thoughts were banished by a firm knocking on the door.

"Must be one of the officers looking for witnesses. Hope you have an alibi." Evelyn joked. Harriet's mock glare made it so Evelyn had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing.

As Harriet opened the door, Evelyn noticed a photograph of the two women, at the time just children. It was taken from one of their dance recitals. Evelyn used to be bullied at school for not coming from rich blood, but the wealthiest at the school befriended Evelyn. And that wealthy friend was the same woman who was answering the door for the police.

"Inspector Jack Andrews. I need to ask you a few questions about your neighbours, just anything you know." Evelyn bounced against the chair and turned to face the entry way.

"I heard it was an open and shut case." She interrupted with excitement barely contained. The man before her, Inspector Andrews, seemed startled when she spoke.

"Yes, well, we like to examine all possibilities." He said dismissively, which piqued her interested. Instantly Evelyn jumped out of her seat and walked over.

"Working all the angles? I like that. Evelyn DeNoir." She gracefully offered her hand as her gaze turned to a much more flirtatious then it was before.

"Down Evie." Her friend patted her shoulders.

"Miss DeNoir. This is a police investigation, I would appreciate it if you took this seriously." The inspector said, and Evelyn nearly got chilled from how cold his voice had become.

"My apologies inspector, I just happen to have a fascination with this sort of thing. My father was Victor DeNoir, the detective?" Evelyn was really hoping to get more out of him then the cold rebuttal, but she wasn't certain she would get what she wanted.

"Yes I've heard of him. If I'm not mistaken he dealt mostly with stolen goods, not murders. Do you live around here?" He asked.

"Not quite. I was just visiting my friend here for lunch."

"Did you know the Andersons in the slightest?" Evelyn only shook her head.

"Then might I suggest leaving now, before someone begins to question why you've chosen to hang around so close to a crime scene."

"I think Evelyn's interests in sticking around has to do with another one of her outlandish theories." Harriet dismissed and Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

"Mafias have done weirder things."

"And how would you know about that, Miss DeNoir?" The inspector asked accusingly.

"I mentioned my father was a detective."

"Yes, for robberies and things that involved the rich and famous."

"That's just what he wanted the world to see." She commented. That wasn't the only way she knew, but details. He didn't need to know.

"Even so you are not an officer, and returning to the scene of a crime is quite common for criminals, is it not?"

"That's what the criminals want you to think, who would be dumb enough to go back after their job's been done?" She scoffed.

"Doesn't prove your innocence." He said, and she frowned. Why was he so difficult. if only she could... that could work.

"If you let me see the crime scene, I could prove I'm not involved." She said, throwing on much more heavy charm.

"Absolutely not. For one it's an active crime scene, two, you're a woman." He said firmly, and her hands immediately landed on her hips.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Women aren't supposed to see this sort of thing."

"What, death? I saw my first dead body when I was four. You're not going to scare me away like that."

"Not like this, not like-"

"A violent murder? Because I'm pretty sure the guy missing his head would beg to differ."

"Evie!" The tension was raw and heavy. They were inches from each other, close enough for their noses to practically touch, practically, but not quite. Their eyes locked in a heated and intense stare, but she couldn't quite tell the nature of his glare. It was angry, hot, like his gaze burned her skin. His dark eyebrows furrowed as she could see the small lines crease between them. His lips, steeled into a line, yet seemed like they were itching to move again. Even when not meeting his eyes, she could feel his eyes examining her, tracing the contours of her face, and perhaps even elsewhere.

"Evelyn Jane DeNoir, that's enough now." Harriet demanded, ordered, like she was the queen herself.

"Fine... but I swear on my life and on my father's career, I did nothing to those poor people, and I appreciate you're not treating it like an open and shut case." Evelyn didn't drop the firmness in her voice. The clocks Harriet kept began to chime and Evelyn finally stopped glaring at the inspector in order to check the time. It was later then she realized.

"I must be off. Things to do, busy life of a modern woman and all." She said, before shooting the man one last glare.

"A modern woman who, by the way, can take care of herself." She said and sauntered out without another word.

She still wanted a look at that crime scene, but there was no way of that now.

Heading home seemed easier then all that anyways. Besides, if she was found out, her boss would be far from happy.

So she placed herself back into the driver seat of the car she took to get to her friend's house and spared a quick glance at the door, just in time to see the Inspector watching her.

"Perhaps we'll meet again, inspector!" She yelled out of her car before heading off, just as he ran after her. She was curious as to what he was chasing her after for, but not enough to stop now.

By the time she returned home, Jenkins, her butler, already had a hot cup of her preferred tea and a bath set up for her.

"How did you know I would need to relax after seeing Harriet?" The dark haired maiden asked her butler affectionately. The older man smiled gently.

"Between the news reports of the murder in the residence of Mrs. Robert's neighbours, partnered with your general lack of respect for other detectives, and your curious nature, I imagined you would likely come home in a right state." The kind man said, and Evelyn could only consider herself the luckiest woman in the world that this man decided to work for her, despite the risks and the weirdness of her life.

"Well, then I shall enjoy the benefits of your intelligence. Oh, and I finished that last book you brought me. Could you please get me a new one?"

"Of course, Madame."

"Ugh, how many times must I tell you not to call me madame? My name will do, or Ms. DeNoir if that's too hard for your english sensibilities."

"Of course Miss." There was a teasing tone in Jenkins' voice, and Evelyn simply smiled, before returning to her room.

Baths and tea were a perfect combination. Warms you up from the inside and the out. Her fingers gracefully undid the buttons on her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders as she felt every bump and lump of her skin. Memories would blink before her eyes, remembering how each came to be.

Her violet skirt sunk down afterwards, landing in a pool at the base of her ankles, before her hands eased the snug stockings off her fair legs.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her face pretty, almost perfect even, but scars littered her body, and she remembered each one. Some jerk with a knife here, some gun shot wounds there. But there were other scars too, scars no one could see but her. She could barely remember finishing disrobing, but slowly she eased her body into the warm and aromatic water. The fragrance of roses and lilacs wafted to her nose, mixing with the citrus scented tea that had been prepared for her. Her muscles visibly eased as her mind started to drift, but unfortunately it didn't always drift to a good place

She wanted to relax. She wanted nothing more then to disappear from her thoughts and release herself from her past. It wasn't so simple.

And unfortunately the strongest memories were the ones she wanted to forget most.

There was blood... everywhere.

It took everything Evelyn had to enter that apartment. Everything she had to try and asses the situation. She half expected him to just be sitting on the couch, scuffed up and hurt, but... alive. But the rest of her knew that couldn't be the case.

It was just so much... blood.

When she finally found him, he was face down on the red stained rug. She knew... She knew before she felt his pulse. He was gone. Her hands instinctively went to my face as she tried to brush away the tears that were no doubt pouring from her eyes, but she couldn't feel anything. She felt numb. She couldn't tell you what happened next, but the last thing She remember that day was being driven home as she looked at the blood on my hands. His blood.

David's Blood.

She loved David with everything she had. He and she had a spark that was unlike anything else, it was the type of love that wasn't meant to be, yet was so meant to be that the world couldn't stop it.

Or at least that's what she thought at the time.

She met him at a party. It was in full swing in representation of the era. Modern women and men dancing as far as the eye can see, jazz so jumping not a soul wasn't swinging along. She wish she could have just been there to enjoy the party, but she had work to do.

The home was the estate of a rather... dashing and Casanova like player of the time. More champagne and scotch then blood, and more cigar then air in his lungs. But that wasn't all he was, he was a dark man, and secrets that he had been keeping were just itching to get out.

A wound on society that she was more then ready to take care of.

She just had to get to his office.

But then she met David. He asked her for a dance, and she told him she couldn't, so he asked her for a drink. She don't know what it was about him, but she couldn't turn him down as much as she knew she should. David had been normal, something she had wished at the time to be, but normal all the same.

They talked for much longer then they should have, but she couldn't bring myself to separate from him. It wasn't until he asked if he could call me a cab that she realized how late it had gotten.

"i'm just going to go powder my nose." Her voice carried from her lips, the very saying she heard so many women use as an excuse to go to the bathroom. Finally she could at least try to accomplish my mission.

She wasn't just some girl after all, and as much as romance was something she dreamed of, the normals were a group she knew she had to keep away from. Evelyn knew one day David would be in danger and could be killed, and she would lose him. But from the first time she saw him, it felt like their worlds were attached. Like fate had intended them to meet all along.

Fate, so cruel as to force her into the life she had, and let her fall for a normal man.

That was the whole reason she was at that mansion in the first place. The owner, who's kiss tasted of an astray, was threatening to reveal the truth about her and many others if she didn't... sleep with him. She didn't, but of course, poisoned lipstick is not something one usually expects at a party. She was unaffected by the toxic substance, but he was not so lucky. A quick, rather painless death, after all Evelyn was never cruel, but it gave her ample of time to gather the evidence he had against her and make it out before anyone suspected his death.

David sent Evelyn off, and she had believed at the time that she would never see him again, believing that to be the best.

She saw him two weeks later.

He was a detective. A Detective! She would curse herself until her eventual death, every day, that she had been so foolish. He had been put on the case of the murder of Jeremiah Barnham, the drunk astray she knocked off. He had suspected her, as Evelyn had disappeared at the time of his death, and the lipstick shade she had been wearing matched the poisoned one found on the body. Makes sense of course, she was able to remind them that the shade she was wearing was alarmingly popular, and it helped that she had long since discarded the tube she had carried that night. Even at her young age at the time, Evelyn knew better then to carry evidence on her person.

Still, in the end it took more "magic" then she'd care to admit to convince some women they had seen her in the bathroom and were willing to testify on her behalf that Evelyn couldn't be the killer, after all she was powdering her nose.

So when David apologized for everything he had put her through, she had to swallow her guilt. Her only solace was that she had not killed him for a selfish reason. He wasn't just threatening her, but he was threatening her friends, all of the girls like her in their situation. She had her orders, and they came with a cost.

But David... Sweet, kind David. After the trial he invited her to dinner, to apologize for everything, he felt so bad. She could tell every moment onwards that he felt horribly that she almost spent time behind bars because of this, but his guilt was soon overpowered by his love.

He would invite her out, give her gifts, all under the guise of apologizing. It didn't take her very long before she realized guilt was not the emotion behind these gestures. It was love.

But then it ended. The group that took her from her home, her family, found her, and went after him. She lost her first true love. That was the night she returned to her friend's home. Harriet had been a saving grace, but it the end, Evelyn knew she couldn't tell the girl everything. So many years had gone by, and telling everyone everything that happened would be admitting what she had done.

She had gone from being captive, to be sold off like a slave, or worse, to someone who was trained to fight and kill against her will, to someone who used those skills more freely. She was employed, no longer a prisoner.

By the time she snapped out of the memory, she had finished both her tea and her bath, her mind barely giving her enough escape to do what she wanted.

She shook her head to banish the last of the memories. No, it would not do to dwell on what couldn't be changed.

A book lay at the end of the bed. She guessed Mr. Jenkins left it there while she had been bathing. She smiled softly, examining the cover and the spine, wondering what wonderful adventure this one would take her on.

She was dragged out of her thoughts by a knocking at the door, and it took her a second to remember she was still naked. Quickly she threw on something at least somewhat more modest, calling down to her butler in the process

"Mr. Jenkins, could you get the door for me?" She called out as she grabbed a robe, wrapping herself up in the lustrous fabric. Chinese silk was such a luxury, she was so pleased her employers paid her well

As she descended the stairs, her eyes rolled so much it was almost painful.

"Inspector Jack Andrews, how on earth did you discover where I live?" She asked, her words polite and pleasant, but there was an undertone of distaste, which made Mr. Jenkins stiffen when she mentioned both "Inspector" and the man's ability to find out where she was without telling him. She shot the man a look, silently telling him to calm down.

Munro Jenkins was a co-worker, and now her bodyguard, though his cover was to be more her butler then anything else. Still, he was sweet. He didn't seem like much at first. He was at least ten years older, and didn't seem particularly strong, but he had his strengths, and he had proven them since they first met.

"When I said maybe we'd meet again, I didn't mean the same day." She said crossing her arms.

"Evelyn Jane DeNoir. Kidnapped at the age of sixteen, suspected murderer of Jeremiah Barnham, and sweetheart of late Detective David Callaghan." The inspector said coldly and she felt her whole body flinch against her will when he mentioned David's name.

"Why are you bringing up my past? The charges were dropped against me, by the way."

"Why did you flee town after Detective Callaghan's death?"

"David."

"What?"

"He hated it when people called him Detective Callaghan. Please just call him David. If for nothing else then for my sake. As for me leaving town, I just lost the man I loved. I found him dead. I couldn't even tell the police anything I knew because..." She trailed off and realized her mistake.

"Because?"

"I'm not going to tell you. If I wouldn't tell people I trusted, why would I tell you?" Evelyn dismissed. "Mr. Jenkins, can you get me a drink please? Something strong?" She asked, as her ability to put up with all of this sober was dwindling.

"I could arrest you for obstruction of justice." The inspector was not letting go. What was with this man? Did he exist to piss her off?

"Anything I have to say on the subject wouldn't lead to an arrest as it was mere speculation, and would potentially lead to more people getting hurt." She said, moving to sit in the drawing room, lazily flopping herself down onto the chez lounge she loved. The inspector said nothing for a moment, and she had a shimmering hope he was dropping the subject.

"You were kidnapped." He stated, which the reply he got started with a rather annoyed groan.

"And I will tell you what I've told every other person who's asked about this. I don't remember what happened. I could recollect that time happened, but memories didn't stick. Anything left, especially now, is fuzzy and vague." She said as Jenkins returned with her drink. The inspector was about to speak again, but she cut him off. "Tell you what. You prove to me I can trust you with every secret I have, and I will tell you everything I know. About the kidnapping, my supposed murdering of some rich man, the death of the man I loved, everything."

Glass shattered behind them.

They both peered around the corner and saw Jenkins had knocked over a vase.

"I...tripped..." He said. his voice was rather emotionless, but she could hear the waver in the tenors of his voice. He was not pleased with the agreement she made.

"It's fine Jenkins, just sweep it up. Things always work out." She said, adding the last part as a hint to her friend.

"You will tell me everything?" He asked her, surprised.

"If you can get me to trust you, which is no easy feat, then I will be firmly honest with you." Evelyn held her hand out for him to shake.

His rough, calloused hand enveloped hers, and shook it firmly, agreeing to the deal.

"You do realize you're not getting rid of me until I get you to talk."

"You do realize if you want to keep me at your side, you'll have to let me see the crime scene."

"Not going to happen." Evelyn frowned and squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

"You know, trusting me will go a long way to me trusting you." She said calmly, her eyes meeting his, trying to lure him in like a siren singing men to their waters.

"Good night inspector." She said, disappearing back up the steps towards her room before he could stop her.

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Author's note: This is the first chapter of my newest story. Updates may be sporadic, but they will happen. All rights reserved as this is not fanfiction. I'm trying something new.

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Also if you catch any typos or grammatical errors I made, please let me know. I tried to go over this as much as I could and edit it, but I may have still missed something.

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