Bloody Lover

Harry Styles

        "Who are you Mr. Richards..." The curly haired lad mumbles to himself. His fist holding his face up by his cheek bone, causing his eye to squint and his words to be muffled as his lips were squished. Harry was scrolling through endless news files at a library out of town. If he was caught searching up reports on one guy, someone may get suspicious. Being out of town was safer. The town of Cheshire is where he lives with his daughter, Kolbie. He's never moved away from home. Ever sense his parents were killed he's wanted to stay close to familiar roads and close to his sister. He feels safe here.

        "Ah ha." The lad smirked in triumph when he finally found the familiar face he's been searching for. "Family killed and was a suspect for a few other murders. Yet, yes running around England still." Harry notified out loud in a whisper only he could hear. Now all Harry had to do was find this bastard and finish him.

        "Now, where are you?" This is when Harry had to get down and dirty. Which means he would have to go to work tomorrow, look through the data base, and finds this mans last recorded site of existence. "Yay," Harry mumbled enthusiastically before clearing the history on the dinosaur-aged computer. With a rough squeak of the chair, he got up and gave the librarian a friendly smile before leaving the building.

£

        With coffee in hand, Harry strolls into the office to be greeted by many smiling faces. He thinks to himself about how crazy it is to be happy when you work in a place like this. Where you invest homicides and look at blood. And if you're lucky; guts, exploded brain tissue or no blood at all. Where there was no blood, there was no Harry. He only worked with blood. The lad had a special eye for blood on scenes. He could tell exactly what happen and how it happen, no matter what. It was a gift.
"Harry, where are my blood results!?" Sargent St.Germain hollered before she came stomping into his office. Without looking at the rather attractive woman he handed her a red folder, not a coincidence. "About time Styles," Sargent said as he snatched the folders from his long fingers.

        "You're welcome Kitty." The lad smirked as he gazed down at his computer. He heard the clink of heels stop suddenly and come back towards him. The lad then felt her breath on his ear and his smirk grew.

        "I'm not your kitty anymore styles. I thought we were very clear about that," St.Germain growled in his ear.

        "Yes Sargent, very clear. I hope the blood work proves something." The lad casually said as he rolled his wheeled-computer chair back to look at the short haired woman. She smiled slyly before walking out of his office, the lad couldn't help but stare at her swinging hips as she did. "Damn..." He whispered to himself before going back to his personal business.

        He searched up the man in the data base and after a few minutes of searching he found his credit card number. Bingo. Now, he searched up the number to see if he's been using it recently. "Someone likes his tea." There's been an account of days that his card has been used at a local bakery. The place where Harry would scout out his-

        "Styles." A cheerful voice. Harry quickly minimized the site before turning to the detective who was now in his office.

        "Detective Tomlinson, what a nice visit."