Chapter Text
Ray Distefano. Maggie turned away as his name and face popped up on screen, taking a moment to harden herself. He was free. He had haunted her for years, and yet, this information had slipped away from her. How had it been twelve years already?
Before Eric and Syd had the chance to, Maggie cut in, summarizing his criminal history. If nothing else, it gave her a small sense of control.
“You know him?” Syd asked.
“I’m the one who put him away.” Before they had the chance to inquire further, she added: “Let’s go.”
She met OA’s eyes in the bullpen, and he immediately joined her. “What do we have?”
“We have a name. Ray Distefano.” She handed him a tablet. “Serial slasher, got out of jail right before the abductions began.”
He typed in his name, quickly scanning the file. “You were his arresting officer,” he noted.
“Yeah.”
If only he knew. She had never told him about that part of her life. Back in the first year of their partnership, he had asked her about her first collar. She had dodged the question. It wasn’t that she hadn’t trusted him. From the first time they’d met, she’d sensed OA’s goodness, and he had never given her reason to doubt it. It was just easier. She didn’t wish to be reminded of a past she didn’t want to remember, and she didn’t want her new partner to see her as a victim. It was enough that he knew her as the workaholic widow.
She barely registered putting on her vest and getting in the car. OA continued reading Distefano’s file, making a few comments as they made their way to 171 Walnut Street. She nodded along, mentally reviewing the case in her head. She could still remember the names and faces of all the 10 — 11 — women he hurt. Now, he might’ve hurt three more, and have a fourth one trapped somewhere.
“Maggie?”
She couldn’t remember ever clutching the steering wheel this hard. Relax, she ordered herself. This time, she had OA as backup. She’d be safe. It wouldn’t be like it had been twelve years ago.
“You good?”
“Mhm,” she lied. They could talk about it later. “We’re here.” She parked the car. “Let’s get the bastard.”
He nodded, and they got out of the car to enter the apartment building.
“Distefano hasn’t checked in with his PO since the first disappearance,” OA said.
Maggie sighed. Great. And yet, nobody had decided to check in on him until three women had been abducted and killed. So much for keeping the community safe.
She knocked on door 1K, ignoring the arguing from one of the other apartments. “FBI!”
OA watched her, waiting for her to make the call.
She grabbed her gun. “Do it.”
The door opened with ease, and they entered a dimly lit room. The air was unbearably heavy, but what stole her attention was the drawings. They confirmed what she already knew: Distefano was still the same. He was still dangerous.
“You didn’t say he was an artist,” OA said.
“Yeah, he said reality was his canvas.” Saying so made her scar hurt. “It’s a load of crap.”
She continued focusing on the drawings, fighting off the bile rising in the back of her throat. She barely noticed OA shouting “clear” from the other room. Distefano was still obsessed with carving up women. Marking them.
“Hey Maggie, you are gonna want to see this.”
Somehow, she doubted that, but she walked in anyway.
Upon seeing herself, her mind was ignited. She scanned her memories for the faces she’d seen in the last month: Had he been there? Had she missed him? Nothing jumped out, and she mentally kicked herself. So much for being a federal agent when she couldn’t even pick up on being stalked. How could someone have gotten so close to her without setting off her instincts? And not just someone, Distefano. She should have recognized him.
“He’s been watching you.”
She stepped closer, taking it all in as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. There must’ve been dozens of photos of her, spanning across weeks. How was this possible?
She turned around, and she didn’t realize until then that it was possible for her to feel even sicker. “Not just me.” He had been watching Ella.
She stepped closer. “Oh my God,” the words escaped her. How long had he been watching them? How could she keep Ella safe from him? They needed to get him now. Or she needed to get Ella away from him. She could pack up and run, taking Ella to the other side of the country. She could-
“How well did you know this guy?” OA asked, cutting through her racing thoughts.
“He was my first arrest.” She admitted. “We got a tip, uhm, that he was stalking a new victim and so we intercepted him outside of her house one night and he ran. I chased him onto a- a train. You know, I didn’t have backup. Got dicey, but I took him down.”
For a moment, she was pulled back to the train. Despite her training, she had frozen when he had pulled forth his hunting knife. She could see herself pinned to the floor, hear the buttons of her blouse be ripped off, and feel as the tip of the blade as it coldly carved through her flesh and into her chest. You’ll never forget me, he jeered, grinning at her. You’ll think of me every time you take off your pretty clothes. As her skin separated, something erupted within her, and she head-butted him in the nose. Distefano lost his balance, and she pulled her gun at him, forcing him into submission. With shaking hands, she handcuffed him, and she pulled her blazer closed before calling it in.
She blinked, ridding herself of the memory. Then, she grabbed her phone, taking photos of his desk. “Anyway, his obsession with his victims got turned onto me. He was writing me letters from prison for years.” They had stopped shortly before she got partnered up with OA. Yet, she still felt a coldness run through her whenever she got a letter in her mail.
“Yeah, but you should’ve been notified when he got out.”
In a perfect world, she would have been. Yet, Maggie knew all too well that she wasn’t the first woman not to be notified of an obsessed man being released from prison. Jason had written an article on it after seeing Distefano’s letters torture her.
The sound of footsteps made her head turn, and she saw Distefano disappearing out the door. “Hey!” she immediately turned into the agent version of herself, hunting him through the apartment building.
OA followed her. “FBI, stop!”
“Circle back,” she told OA. She didn’t have time to be afraid. They just needed to catch him. Catch him, catch him, catch him, her mind repeated. Before she knew it, she descended down the stairs.
“Maggie, on your right!” OA warned her.
Her gun was hit out of her hands, and she instinctively punched and kicked Distefano.
“Maggie Bell?” She’d never hated the sound of her own name more. Somehow, his look of excitement was far scarier than the face of rage she usually saw in these situations. He wanted to hurt her specifically. She dodged his attempt to pipe her, but got kicked to the ground. Before he had the chance to hit her, she kicked him off balance, and she barely registered the rest of the fight until she had him on the ground and in handcuffs.
“Hey.”
She turned around to face OA. Despite Distefano being in handcuffs, she only felt the residual anxiety leave her body upon seeing her partner.
“You good?”
She was now.
OA was sure he was staring into the face of true evil. Despite spending his adult life fighting in wars and pursuing violent criminals, it was exceedingly rare to look into a pair of human eyes and be certain they were fundamentally perverse. Most people, had an internal justification for taking a life or setting of a bomb. Even if he didn’t recognize the reasons as valid, he could on a cognitive level understand how someone could delude themselves into violence. Distefano, however, belonged to the rare category of truly evil.
He tapped the tablet in front of Distefano, hoping it would make the other man look away from Maggie. “Tell us about these women.”
The other man smiled, dropping his gaze for a moment. “Pretty.” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking back up at her. “Who were they?”
“You know who they are,” she said, voice steady. “Your victims. Are there any more?”
“Now don’t be jealous, Maggie.”
If looks could kill, OA was certian Distefano would crumble in front of him in the interrogation room.
Maggie, however, wouldn’t bite. “Cut the act.”
Distefano smiled, clearly enjoying being in her presence. Maggie had insisted on doing the interrogation, arguing that he’d respond to her. Whilst true, OA couldn’t help but feel that she was giving him the attention he craved. However, he trusted her. Maggie knew better than him how to take advantage of their twisted bond.
“After twelve years away it’s not enough just to cut the women now, hm? Now you need to destroy them.”
“Kicking in my door. Stomping around. You could’ve just called if you missed me.”
“Hey. Three bodies. Start talking, now.” Had he been younger, OA would’ve shown less restraint.
Distefano ignored him, still fixated on Maggie. “You spend a lot of time with this oaf. But he is not your baby daddy. Tell me, Maggie. Who was it who left you alone with your precious little Ella?”
Maggie hardened next to him. She stood up, walking to the door. Good, OA thought.
“You know, I’m insulted.”
She paused.
“You don’t think I actually did this, do you?” He scoffed. “All these girls, their cuts are hidden by their nice little dresses.”
“And you want your marks to be seen.”
“Face.” He turned to show off his scar. “That’s best. Chest. Hands. I just want to be remembered.”
Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for what OA felt. This man should never have been let out of prison.
“You never forgot me, Maggie, ‘cause of that nice little reminder I gave you.”
For a moment, he lost his composure, looking over at her. The look on her face confirmed his fear. It stopped him from fully meeting her gaze, unwilling to encroach on her privacy even further. She had made the decision not to tell him. Now, he was unwillingly violating that decision through Distefano’s words. Maggie, however, didn’t let it rattle her.
“Oh, looks like I know you better than your partner.”
Damn it. Whilst Maggie kept her composure, he’d dropped his guard, and now she was paying for it.
“Scar is gone.”
Despite the years they’d spent together, OA couldn’t tell whether she was telling the truth.
“What? No.” At times, Maggie’s ability to control situations amazed him. “No. That’s not possible. I marked you. I marked you deep.”
An image of a younger Maggie, a rookie without backup, flashed before his eyes. He had seen her face and hands, which were free of scars, even when they met a little over six years ago. That meant he’d gashed her chest in an attempt to permanently etch himself onto her body. A wave of nausea hit OA, and he clenched his jaw. Early in their partnership, she had brought up the 1 in 5 statistic. He hadn’t pushed, even if he sensed there was more beneath the surface. Logically, he knew being a woman put her at risk. It was why he had been apprehensive of Nestor, and why he felt an extra weight in his chest whenever she went undercover in a place where men would surround her. Logic didn't do anything to stop his emotions, though.
“Healed.”
Distefano’s lips were trembling with anger. “Prove it,” he demanded. “Show me.”
Disgusting pig, OA thought.
“It’s gone. Like you were never there.”
Before OA had a chance to react, Distefano spat at her.
That’s it. OA jumped up. “You’re done!” he placed his hand over his mouth, yelling for someone else to get in there and handle him. God, it felt good to shut him up. He couldn’t unhand him into the care of the other agents quickly enough, hurrying after his partner.
“You okay?”
She didn’t respond, which meant no. She was not okay. How could she be? She’d just been assaulted again by Distefano.
“I didn’t know.” She sounded scared, “I didn’t know he was so close. To me, and Ella.”
“But she’s okay,” he reassured her. “You don’t have to worry about him, he’s gonna go away for a really long time.” Thank God.
“Not long enough.”
He frowned. What did she mean?
“Because he’s not our guy.”
He didn’t want to believe it. “What are you talking about?”
“He wasn’t lying. He cuts to disfigure, not to kill.”
He sighed. Disturbing, but accurate. “And our victims were left beautiful, faces unmarked.”
“Their hair, their make-up, everything was done. Even weeks after being in captivity.”
“Yeah.” Though he didn’t doubt Maggie’s profiling, he desperately wanted her to be wrong. If she wasn’t, Distefano would be back out on the street a lot sooner than he was comfortable with.
“What if- What if the guy we’re looking for doesn’t have a type? Right, what if he makes them into his type, his perfect woman.”
Before he had the chance to respond, Scola entered the room. “Hey, I just heard. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” A lie.
He continued: "M.E. pulled a partial print from a button on Stacy’s dress. It doesn’t match anyone in the system, including Distefano.”
Maggie looked at OA. Distefano would walk.
Being punched would hurt less. “Okay.”
“The blades in his apartment doesn’t match the wounds either," Scola added.
Damn it. “We gotta find a connection between these three women.”
“Then let’s talk to the people who loved them," Maggie said.
For a moment, OA pictured being the one talked to, with one of his loved ones the victim of something like that. “Copy that.”
He threw one last look at Distefano before the three of them disappeared out of the room. Something told him this wasn’t the last they’d see of him.