Beauty & The Beast (Book 1)

8. Not a playlist

Vincent had spent the rest of the night going through Vanessa Chandler's research paper again, just in case Catherine had been right and he missed something.

It was around eight pm when he heard a car driving up, come to a stop and female feet walking across the asphalt. He would know those steps and that heartbeat anywhere. His pupils enlarged and shrank again as he listened.

It was raining when he came outside and in a flash, he was at the fence. Catherine looked at him, still sitting on her car.
"I didn't wanna get hit by a bat," she says, grinning. "And I'm not here about my mom."

He let her inside and she sat at the small table he and JT used as to eat at when JT came up for dinner, while he stood against the cabinet. She angled herself to face him and dove into why she was there. Not even explaining anything else.

"So working theory is secret boyfriend, but they're Deli lilies so they're untracable," she sighs.

"You want a drink or something?" he asks. He wasn't a complete neanderthal.

"No, I wanna figure out how Victoria fits into all of this, her alibi is weak but she has no motive."

Vincent crossed his arms. He had no idea why she came to him with this.
"Don't you have a partner to talk to about all this?"

"You're the one who said she was lying," she points out.

"And you're the one who said her pulse was racing because her friend died," he retorts, smiling slightly.

"Okay, so is she guilty or is she just trying to cover something up?" Catherine asks, at a loss it seems because she keeps repeating the same thing.

"A lie is a lie okay," he says, throwing a small bone, stepping forward and leaning on the back of one of the chairs with both hands. He figured her out a long time ago. "Just like you say you're here about your case, when you really just want information about your mom." He looks right at her. He knows he's right, but he hopes he's wrong.

She frowns. "My pulse is racing too?"

"A little."

She sits for a moment and then says, "I swear, I used to be a normal person."

He smiles at that. "From where I stand you seem pretty normal."

She pulls her nose up. "So much for your super senses."

He looks down and hums a light chuckle. He was an awkward man now, especially after years of semi isolation.

Catherine looks at him and then she decides to just tell him. She had kept the photo to herself since she saw it with Heather.
"I saw this old photo from camp yesterday, couldn't even recognise myself." Vincent glances at her. She was looking at the table. "You know ever since that day, I, I can't let it go." She looks at him. "Just the thought that the people responsible for killing my mom are out there." She stops and looks down, knowing she pushed again but he didn't say anything.

Vincent walks to his bed and takes out his old army bag, zipping it open and returning a moment later holding a photo. "Can't recognise myself either," he says and places the photo on the table.

Catherine looked at it. It was of four men in their military clothing, standing together, smiling. She recognised Vincent right away. How could she not. "Look at your hair," she gushes. It was cropped short. She laughs and he joins in, crossing his arms. He did that a lot, it was a sort of comfort to him.

"Ah, thought I heard squealing." Vincent and Cat look up from the photo at JT, who was entering the room. Vincent glances down at Cat.
JT points an ice pack at Cat. "You owe me twenty nine ninety nine for this lumbar pack." He looks at Vincent. "Can I, uh - " he beckons Vincent aside.