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The next day with Dexter was an odd one for Elizabeth. She woke up and Dexter was gone which made her panic for a few moments. Looking around she sat up and slipped off the bed. She slowly approached the door, her clothes abandoned to the floor. As she got closer to the door she could smell the lightest hint of bacon in the air. She opened the door and peered her head out. She didn't see him but she could hear the tell tale signs of food cooking. She was hesitant about leaving the sanctity of the room but she abandoned it as her stomach knotted painfully in hunger. Slowly Elizabeth tip toed out into the living area peering around the corner to see Dexter there cooking food. She watched for a few moments before he looked up to her and smiled. "Hungry?" he asked her. She stared a moment longer before she came out from her corner. "Very," she said to him with a growing grin. "Did we really?" He nodded as he turned and placed a plate filled with food on the counter for her. He gave her a once over before he went back to eating. "I'm a closet nudist," she said to him as if she knew what he was thinking. "I was just appreciating," he said flipping the burner off. raising an eyebrow she got up onto a chair and picked up her fork before she started to eat looking at Dexter more then she was at her food. He moved like a sheep but under that facade he was a wolf and it amazed her. How did he fit in so well. Even she didn't feel that comfortable in her own skin. She suddenly felt highly uncomfortable without any clothes on. "How do you do that?" she said pointing at him with her fork and indicating to his whole being. "What exactly?" "Blend so well," she said tilting her head to the side and looking at him like a new angle would help her figure it out. "I had a good teacher." "You're the prodigy of a serial killer?" she said the shock apparent in her voice as she stared at him with a furrowed brow. The shake to his head brought out a firmer look, the predator within tensing at the question. It was almost too beautiful to watch as he fought the instincts. "No," he said to her. "Then what?" "My dad knew what I was. I have a code," he said as if that explained it all. "Don't we all," she breathed at him before taking a bite of the bacon, her wicked alligator grin on her face. She wanted to sink her teeth back into his flesh. Feel how good it was again. "What's next?" He looked up from his plate and shrugged. "I don't know." There was a few minutes of silence as they both at. She chewed thoughtfully on the eggs that she was made before she took in a breath to ask the next question, "What if I asked for your help?" "What sort of help?" he asked setting down his plate. "Help to get a target," she licked her lips. This was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. She still wasn't quite strong enough. Last night she strained herself beyond what she imagined and the throbbing in her side was more painful today. She was surprised she even made it through the night. Dexter stared at her firmly for a long while. As he stared she could feel the blood rushing past her ears, her teeth ached with the sensation, she wanted to close her eyes and imagine the blood dripping over her skin in a rush. The warmth intoxicating. As she took a long blink he spoke, "Okay. Who did you have in mind?" "His name is Gregory James," she said to him. "He's a well to do executive that gets off on raping women," she said to him. "That's my code," she explained. "Men who abuse women." He looked down before he looked up at her. There was a darkness there, his eyes seemed more sunken in, his face seemed more hollow. Was she seeing the real thing now? The thought made her heart thump more loudly against her chest as she got excited just thinking about it. "When?" he asked gruffly. "Tonight?"
Elizabeth's heart was racing her body was covered in sweat as she shot straight up her hand immediately shooting up to feel her stinging neck. She brought her fingers away from her neck to look at the blood on her hands. She breathed heavily trying to gain her bearings her eyes falling to the sheets that covered her. Blood. Her entire bed was covered in blood, not just her neck where she felt a stinging sensation. She took a deep calming breath as she ran her bloodied hand over one side of her face and into her hair. Where did all of the blood come from? Was it all hers? Was she dead? If she were dead then she'd be in some sort of surreal heaven. A pleasant and fabulous heaven where blood was given without a price. No, she wasn't dead but she didn't feel well. Her entire body felt weak, her mind swirling as she fell back to the bloodied sheets trying to think of where all the blood came from. Her body felt so weak, so tired. It wasn't like her to feel so tired or so dazed. With an extreme amount of effort she threw a leg over so she was able to roll to her stomach and look around the floor for any clues as to where the blood had come from. Anything. She needed to know why she felt so woozy, why she was still alive if that was all her blood. Her eyes scanned the floor. A shoe, her bag, her... Elizabeth pressed her head harder into her mattress to tilt her head slightly. That wasn't her knife. She had never seen that knife before in her life and yet there it was, covered in blood on top of her bag. Suddenly she shot up again only to fall to the floor her face planting next to an unfamiliar shoe attached to a leg. She grabbed at it before she realized how terrifyingly bad this was. This was not happening! What was she supposed to be doing? Calling the cops? Cleaning up? What happened when she got home? Elizabeth closed her eyes and thought back to her drive home. It had involved being driven by a police officer, wait. No. She had taken a cab home but she had been at the police statioin earlier. She paid the cab driver when she arrived. Walked up the steps to her apartment glancing over at her deceased neighbors door. Unlocked her door, walked in the door. Did she unlock her door? Did it matter? She got into her apartment and then... Then? Elizabeth's eyes snapped open as she stared at the foot. The man attacked her and held her with the knife to her neck. That's why her neck stung. He didn't know how to handle a weapon and he pressed too hard on her neck because she didn't react the way he wanted. With fear. There was a fight and she won, obviously by the corpse on her floor. Despite how much she wanted to cleanse herself of this death, to play around in his puddle of blood, she couldn't. She had to call the cops for this one. There was no getting out of that but she had to know her story before she did that. Elizabeth repeated the events in her mind before she finally fumbled for her home phone dialing 911. “911, what's your emergency?” a male's voice picked up on the other end. “Yes, my name is Elizabeth Thory and,” she attempted to choke up like she was on the verge of tears, “I was attacked in my home and I overcame my attacker but I think he's dead. There's blood everywhere.” “Alright ma'am, take a deep breath. Do you feel that your life is threatened right now?” god she hated when people told her to take a deep breath, it was like they thought she had forgotten how to breath. “I don't think so! I think he's dead!” she sobbed into the receiver. “Is anyone in need of medical assistance?” “Yes,” she breathed quietly. “Stay on the line with me miss until we get someone to your location. Can you give me your address?” “Umm. Uh. I live in apartment 26 in the palm apartments, um. It's on Pine road,” she said being as purposefully ambiguous as possible. Alright ma'am someone will be there shortly. Please stay on the line with me until medical services get there. Elizabeth hung up. She didn't need to hear him repeat himself and she could already hear the sirens. The sirens themselves made her heart beat in anticipation. This was so bad! So very bad and yet she felt she had to do it this way.
Elizabeth fell out of sync for the third class that day as she jumped up and down teaching the thirty-odd people in front of her a new routine. They didn't notice, how could they? But she could and it frustrated her. Her mind kept wandering to the man that morning, the one that looked familiar but wasn't familiar. Every time it wandered, she faltered. Who in the hell was he? Why did she recognize him? Why couldn't she get her mind off of it? Distraction 101. Think about something that draws your mind away from the task at hand. It's always a bad thing. “Liz, is something the matter?” Amanda asked her, the genuine look of concern on her students face as she approached Elizabeth after the class. “Yes. Why? Does something look to be the matter?” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Oh, well you just look a little sad is all. See you next week,” Amanda said with a smile and a wave of her hand still holding her aerobics towel. That is why you do not get distracted, people notice. “Yeah, see you next week,” Elizabeth responded as she always did, a bright smile on her lips as everyone left the expansive room to her. Once the room was empty she moved to the wall and placed her forehead against the cool surface. “Dexter Morgan,” Elizabeth said aloud for the first time since she had seen it written on the ID badge around the man's face. “Dexter Morgan. Morgan. Morgan. Morgan. Where have I seen you before Dexter Morgan?” “Excuse me, Liz?” Elizabeth spun on her heel to face the door. Naomi the desk clerk was poking her head inside. “I'm sorry to bother you. I had tried your cell a few minutes ago. There's some officers here that say they want to see you about something,” she said indicating to over her shoulder. “You can show them in Naomi,” Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand a smile still apparent on her face. Shortly afterward she was faced with Detective Batista and Detective Morgan again. “Hello. I wasn't expecting to see you both again so soon,” she informed them. Their solemn looks told her that this visit was not good, her first instinct was to run but she stood her ground. While she often listened to those tiny instincts the instinct to flee was not one of them. Fleeing insinuated guilt. Elizabeth was not guilty. “Miss Thory,” Detective Batista started. “Liz,” Elizabeth quickly corrected. “Liz,” he said with a nod of his head. “Miss Adams' son was also found dead in the apartment.” Now that was something she was not expecting, her eyes opened wide with shock for a few moments before furrowing together in confusion. “That's terrible but what does it have to do with me?” “Well we'd like to take you down and ask you a few more questions if that's alright.” Elizabeth held a face that looked sorely confused. “I don't understand.” She was a suspect and she knew it. Talk about bringing her life under the microscope. “We just have a few questions that we need to ask you back at the station.” “Alright I guess. I don't see why you couldn't call instead of coming all the way down here,” Elizabeth said moving to grab her stuff lifting her aerobics towel off of her bag and pressing it to her sweating brow. “Well we did call you just didn't answer,” Detective Morgan interjected. “I told you I might not be able to hear you over the music,” Elizabeth countered with a smile as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. “After you,” she indicated with a single hand. What a perfect opportunity to attempt to see Dexter Morgan again. If she believed in fate she'd say it was that. The elevator dinged just before the door opened to a room that was lined with glass windows and hip high desks all in one large room. Elizabeth didn't know if she would be able to work in such a confined space like this. It was messy. She could already feel the draw on her energy just being there. Maybe that was half of the point to being brought here. The negativity made a person self conscious. Elizabeth hummed a soft lullaby tune as she walked with a smile on her face nodding as she passed a few people. They all looked so solemn, like the tedium of their job was too hard to bare. What happened when it did become too hard to bare? Is that when the noble police officers that “just do their job” become homicidal? Elizabeth wondered how many of them contemplated suicide and murder. Her eyes playfully crossed each of them her mind straying to seeing them holding a weapon of choice in their hand. She could imagine Detective Batista as a man with bloody knuckles after beating someone to death. Detective Morgan seemed more of a suicide case then a murderer, passed out with blood in her bath and pills all over the floor. A double dipper as it were. Elizabeth saw another female with blood on what she could only assume was their husband's mistresses sex whip. Another she saw with a concealing baseball cap and bat. Another had a noose around their neck as they filed away some paperwork. As Elizabeth daydreamed she was lead into what she could only assume was an interrogation room. She looked around calmly setting her bag onto the table and plopping herself into the chair to look up at the two detectives that had disappeared behind a closed door. Elizabeth frowned. That was rude of them. She quickly shrugged it off and began to look around the room swinging her feet beneath her. There was no point in being nervous. They had nothing on her even if she were to be their prime suspect for a crime she didn't commit. Wasn't it ironic? Elizabeth Thory a suspect for a crime she didn't even commit. She huffed in amusement as her eyes lingered on the camera. Was he out there? The man she knew but didn't. Dexter Morgan. After a few moments the door clicked and opened to let the Detectives into the small room. She smiled more broadly tilting her head cheerily like she had no idea what could have prompted them to bring her down here. Detective Morgan placed a file in front of her and sat down. “How well did you know the Adams' again?” she asked. “I told you that I didn't know them very well. We were neighbors, not friends,” Elizabeth responded with a shake of her head. What didn't they understand about that. “Well it appears that the boy knew you better then you thought,” Detective Morgan said as she opened the manilla folder to expose some angry looking drawings. “We found these in the boys room with your name on it,” she said flipping them around so that Elizabeth could see them. Elizabeth tilted her head furrowing her brow as she stared at the images. They were about death and how Elizabeth was a killer and about how she planned to kill him and his mother. Instead of looking alarmed she smiled more broadly and laughed. Elizabeth looked up at the officer's and shook her head in amusement. They looked at each other like she was going to confess to what they were thinking she had done. “You have to be kidding me. You brought me all the way down here to explain some pictures from an eight year old?” she said trying to contain her laughter. She rubbed her eye as she shoved the images back at her. “I did a favor for Piper a few years ago and the boy never forgave me. She didn't have the heart to take his dog to the pound so she asked me to. Unfortunately there was a miscommunication as to when I was to be over to pick him up and the boy ended up coming home when I was taking the dog out of the house. “He never forgave me for that. Check the Greenleaf Veterinary Clinic. It's under Piper's name but the dogs name was Chowder,” Elizabeth looked at them with a playful smile on their face. “If you look at the pictures there is a dog in the background of them all. Piper told me about it but never showed me the pictures,” she explained waiting for one of them to leave and check the information. “So why would he say that you were going to kill him and his mom,” Elizabeth sighed. “I don't have any idea. I'm an aerobics instructor not a psychologist,” she said with a shrug and chuckle. “You're not taking this seriously. You're neighbor is dead Miss Thory and you are our prime suspect. Where were you last night?” the scrawny brunette snapped trying to get Elizabeth to break. “Camping,” Elizabeth said plainly. “Do you have anyone that can collaborate that?” Detective Batista interjected. Not a live one. “Unfortunately not,” she answered simply. There was a tap at the door and Detective Batista went outside to see what it was about. “Just tell the truth. You killed Piper and her son and went home like any other day. What did she do to piss you off? You are bigger then her it probably wouldn't have been hard to overpower her, you're very fit,” Detective Morgan said. “Feel free to get a warrant and check to see if you can find the blood in my home,” Elizabeth informed her. “I didn't kill Piper or her son. I had no problem with them,” she explained as Detective Batista returned to the room. “You're free to leave but stay where we can contact you. No more camping,” he said with a shake of his head. Detective Morgan got up frustrated. “She's the one I can feel it,” she murmured to the other as Elizabeth collected her things. “We don't have proof Morgan,” he said gruffly back to her. “I'm sorry I'm not a great help to you both. If there is anything I can do please don't hesitate,” Elizabeth said clutching her bag closer to herself as she left. She was hoping it would throw a red flag to indicate there was something inside of it. Get them to take it back, give her time to find Dexter. “Liz,” Detective Batista called after her. “Do you mind if we look in the bag?” Elizabeth set it down on the desk she was standing next to throwing a hand out. “Not at all.” She took a few steps back, further into the open expanse of the office looking around to see if she saw him. She avoided the people that she imagined with their murder weapons or suicide of choice and looked for the familiar face amongst the crowd of unfamiliar people. Elizabeth smiled at the Detective as he looked to her while he rummaged through her bag. “I warn you there might be icky stuff in there. You may want gloves. I sweat a lot.” That seemed to get his grubby fingers out of her stuff for a second to seek gloves. He should have had those on the entire time shouldn't he have? It didn't matter much to her, they wouldn't find anything. Elizabeth's eyes went from the Detective back to looking for Dexter. This time it didn't take long. He came from around a corner. Look at that stride. He looked so confident. He was a knife man, like she was. He took a personal interest in killing his victims, or he would, if he were a murderer like her. She bowed her eyes in disappointment as she was one of the few like herself. The neat monster. Elizabeth looked back up to see his eyes on her. “Hey... you. I saw you at the crime scene earlier. What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes skillfully glazing over what Detective Batista was doing. “Apparently I'm the prime suspect,” she informed him her eyes shooting to the detective which just looked up for a moment before returning to removing things from her bag. “Oh. Well oh,” he said looking awkward. “My name is Elizabeth by the way. Please call me Liz though. Thank you again for letting me get to work earlier,” she informed him placing her hand out for him to shake. He took it. His grip was firm, one that would make most women woozy in the knees for him. “Dexter Morgan.” “Lovely to meet you Dexter Morgan,” she said with a slight lift and fall to their hands. “Now I hate to repeat myself but I swear I've seen you somewhere before,” she informed him although their hands hadn't separated. “I wouldn't know where,” he told her again. Elizabeth's eyes furrowed and she recoiled her hand as if he had burned her. She knew why he looked so familiar, it was like looking in a mirror. “My mistake then,” she informed him with a smile. If she knew then could he tell too? “All done. Sorry about the inconvenience Miss, I mean Liz,” Detective Batista said bowing his head as he stripped his hands of his gloves. “Thank you Detective. You have my cell,” she said turning back to Dexter. “Will I see you again?” she asked him. “Well after this case maybe?” he said with a shrug. She reached into a side pocket of her bag for a pen and a piece of paper. She quickly scrawled her name and number onto the pad before handing it to him. “It was great to see you again,” she informed him with a smile before she picked up her bag. She gave him and the Detective a nod before she began toward the elevator. She could hear the detective tease him. “Woo Dex. I think she's hot for you,” was all she could hear before the elevator doors slammed shut in front of her. She didn't believe “hot” was the best term for what she felt. Interested? Curious? Seduced? Probably.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Elizabeth's eyes snapped open as the familiar annoying buzz of her alarm clock rang out reminding her that it was time to rise, three hours before work, so that she could get prepared to go there. She didn't mind the tedium, it was her break from her real passion. She sat up a smirk on her face, the fresh kill still on her mind. Elizabeth tilted her head from one side to the other to hear the familiar popping sounds of her neck cracking. The release felt great as she pushed herself off of the bed to saunter into her adjoining bathroom. She pulled the hair tie out of her messy pony tail to let her short brown hair tumble around her round face. “I am a sexy devil aren't I?” Elizabeth said to herself in the mirror as she posed in front of the mirror, tilting her body from one side to the other to see her nude form from every angle. “You are a beast Elizabeth!” she told herself again with a loud cracking slap to her bottom before she turned to her shower and turned it on. She didn't even wait the few minutes it took for the shower to warm up, stepping into the clear box immediately she set to cleaning herself off from the past day's rest and preparing herself for the day ahead of her. Had Elizabeth not been singing loudly and off key she probably would have heard the pounding at her door before she shut off the water in the shower and climbed out to get dried off. Once she heard the knock at the door her singing faded into a frown. “I'll be there in a minute,” she shouted moving to her bedroom as she hastily dried off her body. The knocking sounded again, followed by a “Miss Thory it's Miami DADE police we need to ask you a few questions please.” Well that put a kink in her morning. She hadn't gotten any more then her underwear on but if they were insistent then she'd be fine to oblige them. Elizabeth walked out of her bedroom and into her living room, “Fine, fine. I'm coming,” she called to them. She opened the door, “I don't know why you have to be so impatient, I was taking a shower,” she said to them with a frown looking curiously at the two people in front of her door. They both looked away from her mostly naked body the scrawny brunette covering her mouth as she muttered a 'holy fuck'. She looked at them incredulously, “Please don't tell me that you were so impatient to get me to the door that this bothers you? I told you to wait a minute,” she informed them both. “What is it that you need at this hour? I have to get ready for work.” “Hello Miss Thory. I'm Detective Morgan and this is Detective Batista. We're sorry about bothering you at the early hour but we were wondering if you could answer some questions for us about your next door neighbor. A Piper Adams?” Elizabeth looked from one to the other, both looking her in the face to avoid looking at the rest of her. Elizabeth smiled and raised her eyebrows to signify that she was waiting. She didn't verbally answer either of them expecting that the questions would come eventually. Obviously, if they couldn't wait they weren't wondering if she could they wanted her to answer questions or to ask for them to get a warrant or bring her in. “Yes, well, first thing is, did you hear anything strange in her apartment that last week?” the man, Detective Batista asked. Elizabeth shook her head. “It would depend on what you mean by strange. My next door neighbors are all conservatives and so you normally don't hear much except the things that leak through the thin walls. If you mean screaming, yelling, fighting and all that? I think she was fighting with someone about two days ago. It was something about a TV that she pawned off or something like that.” The detectives respectively looked at one another before back to Elizabeth. “You seem to remember that pretty well, do you remember any other fights that she had with anyone?” Elizabeth frowned and moved away from the door inviting them in, “I told you I have to get ready for work so if you're going to ask me questions you'll have to do it while I get ready for work. Yes. I have a good memory. No. I do not catalog and record every fight my neighbors have. No. I don't get into their business and I almost always keep to myself unless I'm outside and see someone. I am a normal hermit just like everyone else in this city,” she said closing the door behind them walking down the hall back into her bedroom the detectives following to just outside of her door. “What all do you know about Miss Adams, Miss Thory?” the female detective, identified as Detective Morgan, asked. “I know that she liked take out. I never see her in the morning when I leave for work. I occasionally see her when I take out my trash and we smile, wave and make idle chit-chat when we run into one another. Can you tell me what happened so I might be of better use to you? She wasn't really my closest acquaintance but if you're here about stolen items and need to know more about her character and whatnot I can vouch for her or whatever. She's a good mum to her son,” Elizabeth rambled on as she pulled on a pair of jogging capris, a sports bra and a runners jacket. She came out of the room moving to her laundry room, right past the detectives who were looking to one another and talking in hushed whispers for the moment. “I'm sorry to inform you of this Miss Thory, Miss Adams is dead,” said Detective Batista. Elizabeth paused in mid turn. This fact didn't surprise her or scare her at all. In fact the screams in her dreams the night previous might have very well been her next door neighbors as she was being killed. She had to react to this appropriately though. What was appropriate for this? Shock? Maybe some tears? Yes, that would probably be right. Elizabeth's jaw had went slack as she though about it. The thoughts dawning over her as her right hand slowly came up to her mouth a gasp of surprise escaping her lips. “You're sure it was her?” Now she had to force the waterworks. She quavered her chin and thought about the saddest thing she could, which wasn't much, but she was able to get some semblance of looking sad as the male detective spoke. “Are you alright Miss Thory?” “I think so,” Elizabeth said, her voice quavering with fake remorse. “I think I need to sit down, I feel like I'm going to be sick.” She moved past both detectives very quickly to hide her smile as she stalked down the hall into her living room to sit on the couch. “How? When? Where?” she asked them looking to them, the desperation in her voice. “We do not have all of the details yet but we are looking into it, so any information that you can give us would be greatly appreciated.” Elizabeth swallowed hard to keep from laughing but it appeared like she was swallowing a lump in her throat. “Well I really didn't know her well. She was my next door neighbor I didn't really think much of it. Am I in danger?” she asked them as they stood over her shaky looking body. “We don't think so but we do suggest that you lock your doors, don't let anyone unfamiliar in your home and see about being escorted by a friend to your door,” said Detective Batista. “Is her son alright?” “We don't know yet but we'll see about keeping you updated.” Great. More time to keep up with a stupid charade. “Do you have more questions for me?” The detectives looked to one another and shook their heads. “But it would be nice if you made yourself available in case we need to ask you more questions.” “Certainly,” Elizabeth said dropping her socks to the floor as she stood up to cross to the kitchen bar. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen writing down her name and phone number. “That's my cell you can catch me there or leave a message. I have to be at work in a few hours and I don't always hear it over the music.” “Oh! Are you a dancer?” Detective Morgan asked. “No,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head, “I'm an aerobics instructor.” The detective nodded her head and began toward the door. “Well thank you for your help Miss Thory we'll get a hold of you if we need anything else.” “You're welcome. Please call me Liz. I don't like Miss Thory.” “Alright Liz. Have a good day,” Detective Batista said with a tip of his hat before he began to walk away. Elizabeth disappeared behind her door closing it securely. This could potentially be bad for her. It shouldn't be, she didn't kill the woman next door but this put noses up her butt that she didn't want there and that made her uncomfortable. With a frown Elizabeth crossed the room to her socks and put them on her feet followed by her sneakers. She was officially in her work uniform. Now it was time for breakfast. She stood up and crossed the living room into the kitchen. At first the breakfast started out for just her but slowly it grew from her normal 2 eggs, 3 pieces of bacon and toast into a large omelet, two packages of bacon, a loaf of bread for toast and pancakes. She had done it intentionally, she wanted to make it seem like the quirky neighbor isn't really someone to look at. The only thing was that giving them the food would probably seem weirder then just disposing of it in her garbage disposal. Elizabeth made quick decision and decided to just leave it there until she got home. She looked at the clock and she was already 20 minutes late for her pre-aerobics run which meant that she was skipping that this morning and going straight to her walk to work. Elizabeth picked up her gym bag and her keys as she headed out of the front door, locking it behind her and throwing the keys into her bag she began toward the stairs to get to ground level. It appeared that it was going to prove more difficult to keep a frowning face then she originally deemed it. As she came closer to the stairs they brought the gurney with the black bag atop it. She wanted to look inside but she wasn't allowed, she'd never be allowed and if she was she be exposed to the world for what she was, a sadistic serial killer. She couldn't have that. Elizabeth's face went blank and lifeless as the gurney made it's way down the stairs and a man made his way up the stairs. He looked relatively normal outwardly and he held a case in his hand, looking to be making his way to the crime scene. “Excuse me,” she called to him putting her chin up. “Am I allowed to go down this way?” she asked, knowing very well that she wasn't since the yellow tape was guarding it off. The only problem was that the only other set of stairs to the ground level was on the other side of the tape as well. The man came back over toward her looking dreadfully confused as to why she was asking since it should have been obvious. “I'm sorry Miss? This is a crime scene,” the man said. Elizabeth quickly scanned for a badge but found nothing but an ID card. Dexter Morgan? Wasn't the woman she met earlier a Morgan as well? “I don't mean to be rude or anything but it's either these steps here or the ones over there,” she indicated to the steps further away from the crime scene's door but the only other set of stairs. “Um hold on a second,” he said about to turn from her. “Wait,” Elizabeth said and he turned to look at her. “What is it?” Elizabeth stared at him for a moment. “You look dreadfully familiar,” she said to him with a tilt of her head. “Have we met before?” “I don't think so and I'm pretty sure I'd remember a woman as pretty as you.” “If you say so,” Elizabeth responded not sure why she recognized him. “Um, I have to get into this crime scene before they fire me. Can I trust you not to touch the banisters on your way down?” Elizabeth gave him a nod as he lifted the tape for her. She bent to go under and turned to quickly descend the steps. Once she was at the bottom she turned to look up at the man. Dexter Morgan. Why did he look so familiar? Elizabeth didn't have time to figure it out right then, her morning already ruined byt the appearance of the detectives. The movement which seemed to have slowed, sped back up as she turned away from the man and started on her way to work.