Chapter 17

Emilia locked her arms around Archer's neck and smiled at him, a beautiful smile that showed her gorgeous white teeth. Archer responded by putting his arms around her waist and lightly tugged at her white hair. Emilia touched his face. First, his dark bushy eyebrows and then her fingers wandered down to his defined jawline that was partially covered in a light stubble and found a scar. She kissed it like one did for a young child and like a cat, Archer purred. Archer was losing his patience and he soon found her lips with his and they exploded with passion. Archer's shirt soon came off–

Archer woke up to an empty bed. A dream. A damn beautiful dream that was. He wasn't really making love to Emilia like he had dreamt and now he was left with a raging hard-on. He had a brief moment of panic as he searched for Emilia. His designer wall clock read 8:16, his purple curtains were still drawn. His searching brown eyes settled on the red Thermos flask and pink container on his desk table. He hurriedly got out of bed and took the note that was taped to the container which read.

Didn't want to wake you up. You looked too cute while asleep so I made you breakfast as a thank you for the best sleep I have ever had in 8yrs. Enjoy the macaroons I made. They are my favorite.       

                                               Emilia. :)

Archer couldn't hide the goofy grin that creeped up to his face. God, he loved this woman. He opened the container and took a bite of the chocolate flavored macaroon and his taste buds exploded. His mouth was experiencing an orgasm. No one had ever done this for him and he could not control where his thoughts took him. Archer's thoughts hightailed to a bunch of kids with white hair in a nice simple house. He thought of coming home to freshly prepared macaroons and a loving wife who he could share the details of his day with.

His thoughts were then driven to Rosalia Finn Grande, his very materialistic and snobbish wife. A woman he had barely spent a week with in the same house. A woman with whom he had never had a decent conversation with and he was supposed to call her his wife? Is this what a five year old marriage boiled down to?

His phone brought him back from his self deprecating thoughts with it's shrill ringtone. He would change it when he got the chance. He picked up the phone from his bedside table without checking for the caller and answered.

"Detective Archer Finn." Archer said in lieu of greeting.

"Good morning." Benjamin began. Archer could tell that he was nervous about something. He was panting and from what Archer could hear he seemed to be in a very noisy place. "When did you last speak to Rukelle?" Benjamin asked. Archer was no stranger to Rukelle's past. This was the reason why they worked so well together. They knew everything about each other –well atleast everything that could and should be divulged to a close friend.

"I don't know. I last spoke to her at the station yesterday." Archer heard more shouts from wherever Benjamin was. "Benjamin, where are you?"

Benjamin replied a few minutes too late and Archer already knew that something was horribly wrong. "Um well there are..... problems: One, Craig Barker is most definitely dead and Gertrude is missing. Also, Margaret was attacked last night in her home. She is currently in the ICU and worst of all Elizabeth is missing."

Archer was overwhelmed. It seemed that as Archer and Emilia had spent the entire night in each other's arms. The killer had made himself busy. What was he going to tell Emilia now?

"Um. Maxwell says that you should go and process the Barker house scene. I would have called Rukelle but she has been out of service area since last night and her car is still where it was parked at the station." Archer had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What aren't you telling me, Benjamin?" Archer asked. He was a sharp tone away from shouting.

"Um an officer found a spent shell casing and minute traces of blood near her car."

"Shit." Archer was really getting tired of Benjamin's "ums". Their killer was nocturnal. He shouldn't have slept. Why had he slept? Now his partner was missing and the whole case had exploded into one big clusterfuck.

"Um it would be best for you not to let Emilia watch the news." Benjamin said in lieu of a goodbye and hung up.

Archer was left alone with his plummeting thoughts. He threw on whatever he could find which were jeans and a grey BPD T-shirt – not his best fashion choice. He threw on a black jacket to make his outfit a little less worse and got out of the room just as he heard a loud keening sound. This day was going to get a lot worse.

Archer stormed down the stairs to find Emilia kneeling on the floor of the living room. Her head was in her hands, shoulders shaking as she kept chanting the same phrase over and over again.

"It's all my fault. It's all my fault....."

Archer grabbed the remote and snapped off the domineering TV. He got down on his knees and enveloped her in a hug. Emilia did not resist and amidst all that had happened, she found herself wondering how she had come to depend on Archer for emotional support. They had just met two days ago and she had already slept in his bed, kissed him and now here she was in his arms.

Emilia was not crying for her father. She had long considered him dead when he had shot her in the face outside their house. She was crying for Margaret whose life she had put in danger and a pregnant Elizabeth who was currently missing. Elizabeth was bait, no doubt about that. The killer wanted Emilia and she was going to give him what he wanted. She was going to stop all this pointless bloodshed.

Archer was not going to make Emilia feel more guilty by telling Emilia about Rukelle so he just continued rocking her on the floor. This moment to him felt surreal. They were two scarred and imperfect people with troubled pasts comforting each other.

Emilia abruptly stood up wiping her tears with her hands. Archer also stood up and his cheeks turned bright red when he saw that there little encounter on the living room floor had garnered attention. His mom and the house maid stood on opposite sides of the living room.

Abigail was wearing a smirk and Archer wanted to strangle her yet again. The now purple marks peaked out of her red turtle neck shirt. She completed the ensemble with a black high-waist trouser and the usual assortment of rings on her fingers.

Calliope, the maid of the house, who had been more his mother than Abigail Finn had ever been stood in silence. She wore her usual black and white maid's uniform and she kept twisting her hands in the pocket of her apron. Her grey streaked auburn hair, so much like Rukelle's was tied up in an organized bun. She nodded in silent understanding of what had transpired.

"Oh please." Abigail said as her glass heels clacked up the staircase and Archer was about to strangle her yet again when Calliope held his hand and shook her head. Her brown eyes were filled with so many unshed tears and not for the first time did Archer wish that she was his biological mother.

Emilia cleared her throat, reminding them of her presence. Calliope gave her usual practiced bow and left the room.

"I need to go to work." Archer said as he removed a stray strand of hair from her face. She leaned into his touch and blinked a few times then some more then added a few more for effect. When she raised her eyes, Archer already knew that he was a goner.

"Can I come with you?" Emilia asked and Archer couldn't say no to that face. He was probably sure that if Maxwell found out that he had involved a civilian in a police investigation, he was going to be taken off the case but Archer didn't care. Archer was in love and nothing, not his mother, not his wife and not a psychopathic killer, was going to stop him.