Son of a Serial Killer by Jams N. Roses Page A

there.
    ‘ No.’
    Ben shook his head, his father wasn't like that.
    His father was the strongest man he had ever met, not physically, although he wasn't weak, but he had a soul and was a kind generous man. He was truly a good guy, who not only knew right from wrong, but would act on it, too.
    There was a knock on the door, he unlocked and opened it to Eve, who stood before him in her smart, but feminine attire, wearing subtle make-up, high-lighting her gorgeous eyes and shapely cheek bones.
    ‘ I'm going to a feminist seminar this morning,’ she said, ‘would you like to come?’
    Ben smiled, ‘Erm, what?’
    ‘ Never mind,’ she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. ‘Pull the front door up until it clicks, on your way out. My number is on the post-it note on the table, call me, and leave me your number, please.’
    Eve gave a flirtatious wink then turned and headed out of the apartment, leaving this near-stranger in her home without a second thought. If only she knew the truth of the man she had just invited into her life.
    Ben felt a small flutter of butterflies in his stomach, the feeling you get when you know that a special bond is developing, or is maybe already there. He smiled, then made his way back to the sink and washed his face. The cold water against his skin felt refreshing, he wished he could stay in this safe-haven for ever, but he knew he had things to take care of.
    He dabbed his face dry with a towel and glanced into the mirror one last time, his reflection winked back at him, that same cheeky wink that Eve had just moments ago given to Ben.
    ‘You leave her alone,’ he said, pulling his gaze away from the mirror.

21
    Still cordoned off, the crime scene was a lot quieter than the day before.
    Summers had re turned with a couple of uniformed officers, hoping to come across something that they had maybe missed yesterday. One of the uniforms, a new recruit, young and eager to impress, approached Summers with a used condom in a plastic evidence bag.
    Summers shook her head, trying not to dishearten the newbie, and softly said there was absolutely no evidence of any sexual activity involving the two victims from the day before. This was the conclusion from the post-mortem examination; Ricky would have died a frustrated young man. The officer's face reddened a little, realising the amateur mistake she had made and turned to walk away.
    ‘ Wait,’ called Summers. ‘Tag it anyway. Maybe it could be useful to rule someone out at a later stage.’
    Summers didn't know if she was trying to soften the blow for the youngster or if she was just clutching at straws with regards to the case. Any evidence was better than none, which is what they had at this point.
    She ducked down under the police tape and took a few steps along the path of the canal. The way in which the canal curved really did make under the bridge quite a secluded location, which is probably what attracted the young lovers to the spot in the first place. Somewhere out of sight, as they were both meant to be elsewhere, somewhere to make out without prying eyes, maybe somewhere to drink and get high if that's what they were into. She thought this may be the case with Ricky, but wasn't so sure about the girl.
    Was Alexia a nother ‘good girl gone bad’ in the wrong company? It had certainly happened before, and would likely again.
    Summers glanced up to the top of the bridge and caught a glimpse of a man peering over the side, down onto the crime scene. This could have been a reporter, or even a member of the public being nosey, but the way in which he jumped backed, almost frightened, when Summers and he caught each other's eyes gave her the impression that there was more to this guy.
    She ducked back under the police tape and hurried up the steps, under the next tape line and onto the path that ran alongside the road that crosses the bridge.
    The man was gone.
    Was that him? she thought. Had Summers just set her eyes on the brutal