Chapter Text
He was seated on the conference table in Katherine’s office, all papers, pictures, and clues spread in front of him. His glasses rested between his hair, and he had thrown the cigarette away, replacing it with a toothpick that he found in his own desk. He seemed so focused, that he almost forgot about her presence.
“ Mr. Styles?”
“ Hmm.”
“ What did Mr. Payne tell you when you were outside?” A frown creased his forehead, as he lifted his eyes off the sprawled papers, to meet her own.
“ I just thought- I- since you told me to work on this case with you, then I should- know, and I- I didn’t mean to-“
“ Alright. Listen, Miss Montgomery. I don’t normally work on my cases with anyone. I am not used to having partners or colleagues or anything that falls under that category. So sometimes, I will forget to share what I have with you, and I’ll need you to remind me. Whenever you sense that I’m keeping something to myself that you have the right to know, ask me, remind me that you are in this as well, alright?” She hadn’t expected the calmness with which he spoke. It was odd, how he willingly let her in. He held her gaze, and she realized that he was waiting for a response. So, she nodded, slightly out of breath.
“ Good. Now, come here, I need to show you something.” He refocused upon a single paper, that seemed to have his handwriting on it. She hesitantly approached, but no proximity was close enough. Not until their shoulders slightly brushed, and his lengthy hair tickled her cheeks, and he made no effort to flinch away.
“ Liam and I share a bit of history. We were in college together, as you probably know by now, and then he fell into the political sector because his entire family had always been into that. Then, one day, rumors began to spread of him sleeping around with someone. Said someone, happened to be my girlfriend at the time.” She gasped, her eyes leaving that paper, to fully take him in. He seemed completely unfazed by the information he had shared with her.
“ I cleaned up his mess, advised her to go public and deny all the rumors, had a conference and invited him to join me, and since then, we had been closer than ever. I think he thinks he owes me in a way, I don’t really know. So, that’s why he told me that Ian’s wife had recently lost a baby. They didn’t even have the time to announce it, before she had woken up, bleeding, and lost it. Liam told me that Ian blamed her, we don’t know the reason, but a few days before the murder, he had moved out.”
“ So that means that he couldn’t have been there to kill her?”
“ We don’t know that, Miss Montgomery. The security cameras shut down, for exactly 22 minutes, and when they started working again, she was dead, and Ian was sleeping in his bed.”
“ But I thought he moved out.”
“ He did.”
“ Then how was he in their bed?”
“ That’s what we need to find out. Did he forgive her and move back? Was he drugged and put there to complete the picture of the murder? Did they try to kill him too, and somehow, left him passed out?”
“ And who would do that to him?”
“ Ah, now, that’s a perfectly constructed question, Miss Montgomery.” He smiled briefly at her, but his smile had always been so demanding, so captivating, that she couldn’t help but smile back.
“ Can I ask you a question, Mr. Styles?”
“ As long as it’s as well put as your last.”
“ What happened between you and your girlfriend at the time?”
“ I went home one day, packed my things, and left. And she never tried contacting me since.”
“ So you believe that she slept with Lia- Mr. Payne?”
“ I believe that she slept with someone, whether it was Liam or not, doesn’t really matter. You see, as soon as you let the uncertainty in, there’s no way for a relationship to work. As simple as that. I didn’t trust her anymore.”
“ But you trust him.”
“ Is that a statement, or a question, Miss Montgomery?” He smiled knowingly at her.
“ I can never be certain of much when it involves you, Mr. Styles.”
“ I’m a journalist, I have to be ambiguous. I should read, but never be read. I should never allow myself to be completely understood, or I’ll lose the mystery to myself. And really, what else is there to someone, other than the mystery?”
She couldn’t help but think that he was the most unsolved mystery she had ever encountered. And maybe she’d never understand him, maybe he’d never make sense to her, or even to himself, but God, would she love to spend her time trying to piece him together.
“ Is that a rhetorical question, or a real question?” She chose to question, earning an amused chuckle from his side.
“ Think about it, Miss Montgomery.”
And she would. About it. And him. And all that was in between.
Hours went by, but he revealed no signs of tiredness, so naturally, neither did she. She always felt that need, that urge, to keep up with him. She knew she never could, after all, he seemed to always keep himself in check, always calculating his every move, and how it would affect his next. And she was nothing like that. She was oblivious, inexperienced, and simply, small, in both value and effect.
It must have been at least three in the morning, when he shifted his position, bringing his feet firmly to the ground, standing, but remaining hunched over the pictures ahead.
“ There’s a house right across the Banks’. I can clearly see at least one camera pointed towards their house. Maybe we should check the tapes, see if it filmed anyone going in, or coming out of the Banks’ residence.” She rose to scan through the pictures he had previously examined, as he began putting on his jacket, and collecting his belongings.
“ We’re going now?”
“ We need every minute, Miss Montgomery. You can stay here, or go home, if you’d like.”
“ But it’s three in the morning, Mr. Styles. No one would be awake now, and we can’t alert them, or else it’d be too much of a fuss.”
“ Miss Montgomery, it’s-“ Before he could finish his sentence, his phone was ringing in his pocket, the ringtone completely unrecognizable to her. He rolled his eyes, retrieving it, before announcing that it was Katherine.
“ Katherine, I think we might have someth- alright, slow down. What? Oh no. I’ll go to the morgue now. No, Kath, I can handle it. Don’t come down. Alright.” His entire demeanor dimmed, all his energy seemed to have been sucked out of him, after whatever he had heard. She watched him intently, as he put his phone away, his mouth opened agape, toothpick between his fingers, as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“ I- I have to go.” For the first time, she noted, his voice had lost its firmness. He didn’t sound as stable nor as confident.
“ Wait, where are we going?”
“ No, you can’t come. I have to do this alone. This is- fuck, this is on me.” His shoulders had hunched forward, an invisible weight seemingly resting upon them, taking him down.
“ Hey, Harry,” She didn’t know how she mastered the courage, but her hand held onto his arm, pulling him towards her. To her surprise, he relaxed under her touch, squeezing his eyes shut, and taking in a single, deep breath.
“ What happened?” She weakly spoke.
“ Owen; you know, our lead photographer, was run over. He- Katherine said he’s dead, but I have to see for myself, Aimee. I- I have to see what they’ve done to him.”
“ Oh God, I- I’m so sorry.”
“ So am I.” And every single bone in his body screamed that he indeed, was eternally sorry. He sighed, releasing himself from her grasp, to rub his face in exasperation.
“ I have to go, but I need you to stay here.”
“ No, but- we’re supposed to be in this together, H-“
“ I don’t give a fuck. The case can go to hell. Ian, and his wife, screw them. Screw it all, if it had to cost Owen his life. Stay here, Aimee. I mean it.”
His green eyes held her own, for a mere minute. She tried to ignore, how effortlessly he seemed to have called her name. How beautifully it had rolled off his tongue. He leaned in, and she thought he’d hold her, or hug her, or even kiss her. The anticipation built in the pit of her stomach, as she held her breath. But as quickly as it had happened, he pulled away, shaking his head to himself, his steps quick and determined, as he walked away from her.
His drive there was frantic, panicked. He thought of all those times when Owen used to tell him about his little daughter, and how he and his wife were trying to get her a brother, because she wished for it for Christmas. He remembered laughing with Owen, whenever he told him that someday, he’d win an award for his pictures, and he’d be famous, and have his own paper and shut them the fuck down. He remembered Owen stealing random pictures of him, and telling him that he’d keep them to use them against him when needed. The stubborn remorse grew within him, with every fleeting memory that ran through his mind.
This was all his fault. He was the one who was so keen on taking this case, knowing that it would take them all to hell. He never should have let anyone work on it, and now, Owen was dead, and everyone else was in danger. So much blood was on his hands, and he found himself staring down upon them, to see if it was visible.
Lengthy minutes passed by, before he was pulling over in front of the morgue. He ran through the hallways, down the stairs, until he got to the fridges. One of the doctors he knew well stood there, offering him a compassionate smile, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder, before letting him be. He opened a chamber in the fridge that had Owen’s name on it, and there he was. Pale as snow, purple bruises spotting his skin, head cracked open, but no blood seeping through. Other than that, his features held no emotion at all, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had the time to feel any pain, or if it had just happened. The lump in his throat continued to grow, as he shakily took the report into his hands.
“ Cause of death: head trauma. Died on impact.”
It was all so suffocating, so draining. He ran a hand over his throat, willing his lungs to take any air in, and not give out on him, but it was of no use. He hung the report back in its previous place, walking towards the door. He couldn’t help but tilt his head backwards, taking Owen in one more time, knowing that he’d never forget that scarring scenery.
“ I’m sorry.” He whispered. He then opened the door, left, and closed it behind him. He felt utterly lost in his own head, his feet shaking under the weight of his increasing guilt, hands trembling with nerves, worry, and fear. But then, he heard her voice, calling his name, so weakly, so cautiously. He lifted his eyes off the ground, allowing them to fall upon her. Her arms were behind her back, chest heaving rapidly, features twisted in concern. He found himself resisting the urge to throw himself into the security of her arms. He cleared his throat, searching for his voice, or maybe even, his words.
“ He’s- um- he’s in there. I need to call his wife to inform her, then we need to talk to Katherine, and everyone else in the paper, and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, her arms were wrapped around his neck, as she stood on his feet, burying her face into his shoulders, and simply holding him to her. He couldn’t bring himself to hold her back, but his face fell into her own shoulder, taking in her scent, and her radiating warmth.
“ I’m so sorry, Harry.”
Something about the way she called his first name, instead of his last, stirred something within him. And he just stood there, letting her hold him, losing his train of thought to her, and being surprisingly okay with that.