The killer wanted them to find him.

No matter which part of that sentence she emphasized, she thought, ignoring Leeteuk as he lectured her on the importance of not contaminating a crime scene, it was still bizarre. Why would the killer want to be found? Why leave the note for her and Donghae?

The answer came as her chief realized she hadn’t been listening to him and began doubling his efforts: the killer was toying with them. Her eyes narrowed as she felt her jaw ache from tightening it for so long.

“Morita Haruki, are you even paying attention?” Leeteuk hollered.

“Don’t mess up a crime scene,” she muttered. “I got it, chief. Can I go now?”

If her boss held his breath until he passed out, he could not have turned purpler. “What’s going on with you lately, Haruki?” he demanded. “You, of all people, would be the last one I’d expect to turn unprofessional.”

Haruki sighed. “This case is stressing me out, okay? Can I get back to work on it already?”

The chief rubbed his forehead with his fingertips and paced back and forth, neither dismissing nor speaking to her. She was about to silently excuse herself when he finally turned back to face her.

“Things aren’t looking good for you right now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He smirked triumphantly and crossed his arms. “Yesterday, the whole division heard you announce that you weren’t willing to work with Agent Ok, who conveniently turns up dead this morning.”

“You think I killed him?” Haruki sputtered. “Chief! That’s…that’s absurd! That’s beyond-”

“I don’t think you killed him,” Leeteuk replied, though he was still grinning at her. The detective slid down a few inches in her chair; somehow a smiling Chief Park was more terrifying than a yelling one. It meant he knew something that she didn’t.

It meant hell for her.

“I don’t think you killed him,” he repeated, “but the circumstantial evidence is against you. ‘Don’t interfere.’ That’s the note you removed from his pocket, right?”

“I didn’t write it!”

“I didn’t say you did,” he replied. “But things don’t look very good for you.”

Defeated, Haruki straightened in her chair and glared at him. “What do you want me to do?”

"You’re on office duty for one month,” he replied. “I don’t want you working on this case at all. Donghae can handle it himself.”

If he’d told her to bungee jump off a cliff into a pit of crocodiles, Haruki could not have looked more horrified.

“Dismissed.”

Donghae was waiting anxiously outside the office when his crestfallen partner appeared. “Are you okay? Did Chief chew you out? What happened?”

Haruki gave him a pained look and slowly spoke the two words that would condemn her to a month of misery: “Office duty.”

Donghae could only wince in sympathy.

Haruki cursed to herself as she picked up the stack of paperwork that needed to be copied. She was sick of making copies, she’d gotten paper cuts from all the files she’d been handling, and if she had to run one more cup of coffee to the Digital Forensics Department, she just might stab someone with the nearest sharp object.

“How are you holding up?” a cheerful voice asked and she turned around to see Eunhyuk poking his head through the door.

“Don’t talk to me,” she grumbled and gritted her teeth when he barked with laughter, willing herself not to hurl the papers in his face.

“Well, I have some good news for you,” he replied.

“Which is?”

“Shindong wants to see you,” he explained. “Something about the dead agent.”

Translation: Shindong wanted to have a nice chat with her about murder victims and how they ended up as corpses. But anything was better than copying case reports.

Haruki blew out of the copying room so quickly, the papers scattered all over the floor.

“He'd been dead for hours when we found him?” Haruki said blankly, trying to process the information the medical examiner had just given her. Images of dead agents and decomposing corpses flashed in her mind and she shoved them aside. This was why she preferred not to talk to Shindong.

The coroner nodded, unaware of the turmoil and nausea swirling in her brain. “Someone shot him in the middle of the night and carried his body here, setting up the scene so that it appeared as if he was shot as people were arriving at work.”

“But the security cameras would have recorded that-”

“All the cameras in our department were cut last night,” explained Shindong. “Kangin was on duty last night and he didn’t notice anything. But this morning, he realized that the cameras were being fed a loop of the empty department…”

Haruki winced as she thought of the short-haired burly guard and wondered how much further damage the cameras suffered after he realized he’d been tricked.

“The blood, though,” she murmured, forcing her mind to turn back to the matter at hand. “The blood was still fresh.”

Shindong smiled as if he’d been expecting this question. “A clever but simple ruse.” He held up what appeared to be a small piece of plastic. “A little pouch of blood hidden under his shirt, right where he’d been shot. Burst right before people started coming to work. Besides, Yoona already analyzed the blood samples from the ‘wound’ and the victim. They didn’t match.”

Haruki shook her head in disbelief. “The crime scene…”

“The CSU all agreed that it looked too staged,” Shindong replied. “Taecyeon wasn’t murdered in our department.”

“So who did it?” she asked. The medical examiner shrugged; that was her job, not his. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Whatever his reasons are, the killer is playing a game with you,” he replied. “And Donghae.” The detective couldn’t help noticing that her partner’s name was thrown in almost as an afterthought. “Be careful, alright?”

Haruki had to smile slightly. Despite his inappropriate timing and an inaptitude in social situations which rivaled even hers, Shindong was an okay guy.

“We sent the bullets for analysis. They were really hard to dig out of the lungs,” he continued, mistaking her cringe of disgust for interest. “Wanna see?”

The detective sighed as she finally reached her office. After finally convincing Shindong that she really didn’t want to see Taecyeon’s punctured lungs, she’d returned to find a line of people waiting to use the photocopier. Worse, no one had bothered to pick up the papers she’d accidentally scattered about the room, forcing her to explain the footprints on the reports to her disgruntled colleagues. All she wanted now was some isolation and the chance to stew in silence.

She opened the door.

“Finally!”

“Gah!”

Jessica Jung looked up, scowling, from the framed photographs she’d been looking at, photographs that Haruki kept her bottom desk drawer and never looked at. Her feet were up on the desk, covered in a pair of leather boots with an expensive-sounding label.

“Feet off!” Haruki snapped, marching over to the other woman and pushing her legs down. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

“Looking for you, duh,” Jessica replied. “I wanted to talk to either you or that Donghae guy. But when I asked around, people said he was out, so I waited in here for you.”

“Give me that!” Haruki snatched the photographs away and stuffed them back in the desk drawer. “You’re not supposed to look through other people’s stuff!”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “But this office is so boring! I’ve been in here for, like, thirty minutes! What was I supposed to look at? The empty walls?”

“In some places, that’s considered therapy,” Haruki muttered. She sighed and locked her drawer for good measure. “Alright, I’m here. What do you want to talk about?”

“Who were the people in those pictures?”

“I know that’s not what you’re here for, Jessica.”

“Were they your family?”

“I haven’t found any news on Krystal and besides, I’ve been suspended from the case for a month,” Haruki replied.

“Who locks their family- wait, what?” Jessica frowned, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. “Suspended? Why?”

“Because my chief is a jerk,” Haruki replied. She was aware that she was acting like a petulant teenager again. Odd how it was easy to slip into that mode when Jessica Jung was around.

“So what’s going to happen with my sister’s case?” Jessica snapped, tapping her manicured nails on the desk and ignoring Haruki’s silent requests to get out of her chair.

“Donghae’s working on it,” the detective said. “He’ll be fine and- did you turn on my laptop?” Haruki snatched up the laptop, which was open to the latest case report she’d had to print.

"It by itself when I bumped into it,” Jessica replied. “Does that mean you’re not even going to try?”

“I’ve been suspended, Ms. Jung,” Haruki snapped, checking through the windows on the screen quickly. Luckily, there was no evidence of the chatrooms and social networking pages that marked her secret continuation of her investigation.

The model waved a manicured hand. “It’s just Jessica. ‘Ms. Jung’ sounds so old.”

“Jessica, then.” Haruki shut the laptop and set it back down on the desk. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave-”

Jessica ignored her, walking towards the wall and staring up at the diplomas and certificates hanging from it. “You really have a boring office,” she commented again. “Don’t you have friends or something?”

“Get out of my office!” Haruki snapped, her hand tightening on the edge of her desk.

The model flipped her hair over her shoulder again. “God, you don’t have to be so sensitive. It was just a joke-”

“OUT!”

With one last scornful glance, Jessica vanished through the door in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. Haruki sank down into her chair and crossed her arms on her desk, burying her face in them.

What was wrong with her? What had happened to the Haruki who always put justice before her own personal feelings? What happened to the years of effort she’d put into suppressing her emotions? What the hell was with that outburst?

"Knock, knock?” She lifted her head slightly to see Donghae poking his head through the door.

“Come in.” Haruki leaned back and tried to smile at her partner. “How is everything going?”

"Not as much fun without you to tease,” he replied. Before she could retort, he opened the door a little wider and another head peeked into her office.

It was a face she was familiar with and she smiled. “Jinki! Come on in.”

“Call me Onew,” he reminded her. The criminal psychologist adjusted his glasses and took the seat across from her desk.

She nodded. For some reason, she could never remember his nickname.

“I don’t know why you insist on being called ‘Onew,’” Donghae retorted as he took the other seat. “It’s like you want to be known for being feminine. If you really want a nickname, can we call you ‘Chicken’ instead?”

Onew groaned as Haruki laughed for the first time that day. “Come on! That was one time! Kangin dared me to order the jumbo-sized bucket of fried chicken. I don’t even like chicken.”

“Sure,” Haruki teased.

“But you actually ate every single piece,” Donghae reminded him. Onew growled at him. “Okay, show us what you’ve got.”

Still muttering, “just that one time” under his breath, Onew opened up the file he had tucked under his arm. Flipping the page seemed to snap him into his professional mode and the detectives exchanged a glance of amusement as he announced, “I’m afraid I haven’t made much progress,” in a much graver tone than the one he’d been previously using.

He pushed the sheet with his report towards Haruki and she skimmed over it quickly, her shoulders drooping slightly as she read. There were brief bios of the three victims and then another, even shorter one on the nature of the murderer:

“Perpetrator likely to be an Asian male in his twenties to early thirties. He appears to be an organized killer, paying meticulous attention to leave no clues behind on the body of the victims. Probably highly intelligent, with at least a high school education and most likely a college degree.”

“I’m at a loss for how to continue,” Onew admitted when Haruki put the paper down. “I can’t figure out the killer’s obsession with brains and I don’t understand why he’s targeting girls without some sort of ual motive.”

Both detectives stared at him. “Uh, Onew, wouldn’t that be a good thing?” asked Donghae.

“For the victims, yes,” the psychologist replied, pushing his glasses up. “However, that means that he doesn’t fit the mold of the typical serial killer, which makes his motives hard to determine. That could make him even more dangerous.”

Haruki nodded as she absorbed this. “And the note?”

Onew frowned. “What note?”

“The note found on Taecyeon,” she snapped. “You know, the dead FBI agent?”

“What does he have to do with it?” the psychologist looked at Donghae for explanation.

“We think he was murdered by the serial killer as well,” the detective replied.

Onew’s eyes widened. “But…but that means that the entire profile is inaccurate! You must be mistaken. Organized killers have a very specific-”

“Type of victim they target,” Haruki finished. “We know, we know. This is different, though. We- I think Taecyeon was murdered because he had been put in charge of our case.”

“Technically, he put himself in charge,” Donghae added, “but I think she’s right. The note said ‘Don’t interfere.’ I think it was a warning that only our department is allowed to work on the case.”

“Or it’s a warning not to investigate the case at all,” Onew retorted. “That sounds like a message any murderer might send.”

“Then why stage the murder here? Why make it look like he was killed in our department?” Haruki snapped.

“It was staged?” Donghae raised his eyebrows as she nodded.

Onew’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed as he scratched the back of his head. “That’s extremely bizarre and rather troubling…”

“How so?” asked Haruki.

“To break into our department and manage to fool an entire building of cops into thinking that a murder happened in their office…” Onew shook his head. “I can think of two simple explanations. One is that the killer has been observing our department for years. The other is that-”

Haruki’s eyes widened with realization as she finished, “The killer is in our department.”

“This profile does fit almost everyone here,” Onew murmured, tapping his fingers on the page of notes.

“It can’t be…” Donghae shook his head. “I refuse to believe it. Only those with clean criminal backgrounds can work for the police force. Don’t serial killers start showing signs of violence and criminal behavior when they’re young?”

“You’re assuming antisocial personality disorder,” Onew replied. “And you’re generalizing. But I agree with you, Donghae. I’d like to think that no one in our department is capable of such a heinous crime…”

The three of them exchanged glances and Haruki instinctively lowered her voice as she demanded, “This stays here. Not a word to anyone outside of this office.” The men nodded and Donghae pretended to zip his lips up, lock them, and throw away the key. Onew rolled his eyes as he closed his folder.

“Bye, Haruki! Bye, Donghae! See you guys later! I’ll keep working on it!” he chirped as he left the room, humming slightly to himself.

Haruki shook her head. “What is with that guy? It’s like he has multiple modes or something.” Donghae laughed. “So you haven’t found anything, either?”

“I wish I could,” he sighed. “I spent the day talking to Krystal’s teachers and classmates. Same as with the others- no one was particularly close to her.”

His partner nodded. “Have you tried asking people who live near the warehouse they found her in? See if anyone saw a man carrying a girl a few weeks ago?”

"I will,” Donghae replied, “but I doubt we’ll have much luck. An event like that is unlikely to stand out. How did you know Taecyeon’s murder was staged?”

"Shindong told me,” she explained. “He said the killer used a device that made it look like Taecyeon’s wound was fresh when he was found. Yoona analyzed the blood types and they didn’t match. The security cameras were fed a loop so the guard last night didn’t suspect anything.”

Donghae shook his head. “So who killed him?”

Haruki shrugged, as the coroner had. “The bullets were sent in for analysis. Heechul should have the results by tomorrow.”

“Heechul? Didn’t he retire?”

“He was forced into it because of his leg and he hates retirement.”

“You sure this is a good idea? We almost never bring people out of retirement.”

“He’s still the ballistics expert,” Haruki replied. “If Siwon’s not around, I suppose we’ll be drawing straws to see who gets to pester him for his thoughts on the case.”

Donghae grimaced. “In that case, I’ll be as far away from the department as possible tomorrow. Heechul was cranky enough before the accident.”

Haruki smiled slightly, but it dropped as her phone buzzed with a text. She swore as she read the message and stood up. “You should get back to work. Apparently, I have another coffee run.” Growling softly, she pushed past her partner and stomped out of the office.

The bloodstains had been scrubbed off the floor of the coffee room after the Crime Scene Unit had finished photographing the scene, but Haruki couldn’t help feeling a chill as she walked inside. She could still see Taecyeon’s dead eyes staring up at her, the fear and surprise permanently captured on his face. She shuddered.

Her phone rang as she was pouring the coffee, causing her to jump and spill some on her hand. “Ow!” Cursing, she stuck her finger into as she fumbled for her phone and snapped it open. “Morita.”

There was no answer.

She frowned, warily glancing over her shoulder as she tried again. “Hello? Who’s there?”

A haunting piano melody came through the phone and her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. With each set of rising and falling notes, a knot of dread seemed to form in her stomach as wariness crept up her spine.

Suddenly, a soft voice joined in with the piano, gently singing to the music. Haruki gasped, clapping a hand to as the lyrics slowly sank in.

“A pair of perfect hands

Neither sweating nor trembling

Crossed behind a smile

A hidden, dangerous persona.”

"Who is this?” she demanded, but there was no response. It was a recorded message. She hung up immediately.

The phone rang again and she picked up on the first ring. “Who are you? Why are you calling me?”

The song merely began again and this time, Haruki froze. She didn’t want to hear the rest of the song, but she just couldn’t hang up the phone.

“When you are most relaxed

I will, without any feeling,

Do the deed, never looking back.”

A/N: The lyrics of the song at the end are from "Killa" by JJ Lin. I know it's C-pop, but it's a hauntingly beautiful song. It also has the creepiest music video in existence. I suggest you all check it out. Just not at night.