A year ago...

Leo's tired eyes adjusted to the darkness. His apartment was not quite penthouse but sat far up in a tall apartment complex. The lights of the city bellow danced their familiar hypnotic sparkle. It was one of the reasons he picked this apartment, even if it was further away from his office the unadulterated view of the city it offered was worth the price tag.

Flicking on the lights the bright white LED's shot to life illuminating his apartment. It almost felt too sterile, it felt as if he didn't live in it and the fact of the matter was, he didn't really. He spent most of his time at the office. Ultimately it was what killed his marriage, it may as well have been what killed Alice. Sucking in a deep breath Leo let the weight of the day sink onto his shoulders.

Sliding his leather shoes off he tugged at the knot of his tie pulling on it until it loosened its suffocating grip. The top three buttons of his dress shirt soon followed. Soon Leo was slumped on his couch. God this thing is uncomfortable. Leo remembered how much Cynthia loved the damn thing when they were together. It was pure white leather, cost far too much and made his back ache.

Switching on the TV Leo was greeted by the nightly news. Another reason he never bothered to watch it. His fingers hovered over the channel button when the report caught his attention.

In a bizarre turn of events the 54-year-old Oscar Gates who was arrested for the drowning death of Kimberly Castaneda by the Greater Rockford Police Department....

Leo shot up as he just stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. Gates, Gates, Gates, Gates. For once Leo praised recorded television as he paused the broad cast. He leapt up poncing over the back of the couch almost toppling it in his haste. Sprinting he skidded into his office, the socks on his feet causing him to slide almost slipping over his arms flailing in a desperate attempted to regain his balance. He hastily ripped his socks off tossing them to the ground as he rummaged in his filing cabinet all the while chanting in his head Gates, Gates, Gates, Gates. Paper began to fly up into the air as files scattered around him. He knew he would regret that in the morning, but he could not think straight with his heart thumping in his ears.

'Gates!' He lifted a manila folder as if he just found out it was his ticket to winning the lottery. 'Alec Gates.' He held up a police report a grainy black and white mug shot of a man in his 30's paper clipped to the corner. This was one of Leo's first cases and one that haunted him nearly every night. Five murders, five and a botched as all hell police investigation.

Sprinting back to the TV Leo held up the photo and compared it to the 54-year-old man on screen. There was no denying it. The bent nose, the dead eyed stare, the harsh cupids bow of his upper lip. It was him, and he didn't even change his last name. Leo raced back to the TV where he un paused.

'...has since been found not guilty. Following a lengthy investigation which investigators state was hampered by police treating the scene as a suicide despite the brutal injuries suffered by Ms Castaneda. Mr Gates lawyers state they are pleased....'

Leo felt a harsh pain in his chest at the news 'n.... not guilty.' The words had never felt so horrible to hear. The screen paused on a press conference. The title screen displayed Lewis Sterling and to the left of the man was... Nettie.

Stalking back to his office Leo slammed the file on the ground. How, how could they have him again and let him go? Rage blinded Leo. Searing rage pumped in his veins as he gripped onto the decorative crystal paperweight on his desk. In a fluid motion he slammed it to the ground where it shattered.

Ignoring the shards at his feet Leo turned on his computer and began his obsession. He browsed and browsed until he found it. Nettie Lachman thank God her name is unique.

He continued to scroll.

'Lead investigator Nettie O'Mara argued in court she took over the case file after lead investigator Jackson Cole was placed on medical leave. Cole believed the death was a suicide which Lachman had been publicly against....' Scroll...scroll...scroll 'Inspector Stirling has stood by O'Mara stating that he does not believe other members acted in a corrupt manner but that processes would have to be....' Scroll... scroll 'Lachman attended a limited press release where she apologised to the impacted families and stated should be taking a leave of absence to return to...'

Hmm. Leo thought to himself. He revised his searching, this time for Jackson Cole. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he read that this was not the first botched investigation by Cole. The deeper Leo went down the rabbit hole the more his skin began to string. Turning his attention to the papers on his floor he carefully inched towards the Gates casefile flipping over towards the end.

In his own handwritten notes, 'victims alleged that during the investigation Gates stalked [intelligible] mutilated [intelligible].'

'Fuck...' Leo hissed standing up looking towards the frozen frame of the TV. He stared at Nettie, his heart thudding in his chest fear shivering down his spine. 'Fuck!' He hissed in pain feeling the stabbing shards in his foot. He looked down and saw the minefield of broken glass he had created.

The next morning Leo woke up, his feet aching. Both feet were bandaged, no matter how careful he was he was unable to stop himself slicing his skin on the glass. He lay in bed his eyes staring directly at the ceiling. It was at this moment he made the gut decision, he had to move back. He had to make sure Nettie knew what she was up against, Leo knew she wasn't safe. Hell... I'm not safe. With that thought he pushed down the deep urge to grab his passport, get on a plane for some far away country and never look back.

His eyes studied Nettie's face on the TV. Her deep green eyes worn; her skin pale and the exhaustion clearly seeping out of every pore. No, I can't.