One x One Truth and Lies

[Cindella]

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She is a wealthy novelist, writing murder mysteries. But suddenly a murder turns up and it's following one of her stories to a T. Is it some obsessed fan, eager to gain her attention? Or is she the mastermind behind it? Writing out her gruesome murders under the guise of fiction?
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He is a special agent in the FBI, teamed up with a top edge forensic team, and he has been put on the case. He's not sure if he believes her story about just being an author. But as he gets to know her, he doesn't believe all the forensic evidence piled up against her.Did she commit the murder? Or was it an obsessed fanatic? Can they prove her innocence before she's jailed for a murder she may or may not have committed?
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[Cindella]

Spoiler

Full Name: Kara Lyn WintersNickname: NoneAge: 23Gender: Female5'4| 132 lbs | Green Eyes | Light Blonde Hair | Freckles 
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Spoiler

| Creative | Loyal | Hot-Headed | Stubborn | Impulsive | Distrustful |



--- Creative


Kara is able to concoct stories and images in her head based on few words or the strange pattern that her leftover tea leaves make.


--- Loyal


She is loyal to a fault, meaning that she will side with those she knows even if they are wrong.


--- Hot-Headed


Quick to anger at just about any form of incompetence.



--- Stubborn


Once her mind is made up, it will take an act of God to change it.


--- Impulsive


When she gets an idea in her head, it won't go away until she completes it.



--- Distrustful


She doesn't trust just anybody, and it takes a bit for her to warm up to others

Spoiler

Status: SingleOrientation: StraightMother: Teresa WintersFather: Callum WintersSister(s): NoneBrother(s): Jackson Winters

Spoiler

Kara didn't have any sort of tragic upbringing. If anything it was a picture perfect one. Two parents, a sibling... nice house in a small neighborhood where everything was quiet. Kara found out about her passion for writing in 3rd grade when her teacher assigned a short mystery story as their homework. Her's was chosen above all other students in her class to be read aloud. She found that she loved the attention and continued to write small stories, even if her mother and father were the only ones to read them.


However, she stopped writing when she hit puberty, with guys being her main focus during that time. But after a particularly nasty breakup with a boy she had been dating for a year, she got back into writing. She wrote about the romance between them, albeit a bit exaggerated at some parts, but none the less she re-discovered her passion for writing. So she joined a writing club at her school and found herself being featured in the school's newspaper and even in the town's paper!


Being an author had never crossed her mind, always thinking that it was a hobby and not something that you could make a career out of. At least not until she won contest after writing contest for her stories. One of her short stories had even been published on a National website, thus gaining her momentum. Only then did she really think about it and that's when she went through all of her silly stories she had written and turned one into a best seller. She found the small mystery she had wrote in third grade and turned it from five sentences into a five part mystery.

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[soular]

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Wesley Drake
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Demographics

Spoiler

Full name: Wesley Eric Drake
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Nickname: Wes | Drake
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Age: 27
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Gender: Male
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5'11 | 180 lbs | Brown eyes | Dark brown hair
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Personality

Spoiler

| Intelligent | Arrogant | Blunt | Obnoxious | Calm | Good sense of humor|
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--Intelligent


Wesley is smart and he loves using his intelligence to piece together unsolved puzzles.


--Arrogant


Wesley thinks so highly of himself that at times his superiors believe he's stupidly cocky.


--Blunt


Perhaps this comes from being on the forensic squad for too long, but he says things as they are. There's no such thing as dancing around the gory details.


--Obnoxious


Anyone with low tolerance for annoying people is bound to find Wesley downright obnoxious.


--Calm


No matter what the situation, Wesley has an incredible knack for always staying calm and level-headed.


--Good sense of humor


Working for the FBI has put Wesley in many awkward situations. He makes sure he always knows the perfect pun to lighten the mood. 

Relations

Spoiler

Status: Single


Orientation: Straight


Mother: Annalise Drake


Father: Jonathan Drake (deceased)


Sister(s): Kaitlin Drake (22), Braiden Drake (20)


Brother(s): Caleb Drake (24) | Parker Drake (18)

History

Spoiler

Wesley's life has always been fairly hectic. With 4 siblings and two parents who were always out of the house working, Wesley adopted the position of a guide and role model to his younger siblings. Growing up he always made sure that he was the one to lead the way, and was extremely protective over his siblings even if they were in the wrong. He was the mediator, if there was a fight between siblings, they went to him first and only serious things went to their parents. They knew how hard their parents worked, and they even respected them when Wesley complained they were never there for him.


 


Poverty wouldn't be the best way to describe Wesley's childhood economic status, but they were far from well-off. Because of this, he made it a point of his to become well-educated and help set his family on the right track. His father never graduated high school, and his mother dropped out of college before her first semester was even up. The pair put a lot of pressure on their first born child, and even though it was extremely stressful at times, in the end it was definitely worth it. He graduated high school at the top of his class, and continued his education at the university level with a full ride scholarship.


 


University was a whole new world for Wesley, and he loved it. In a place where no one knew him, he was able to reinvent himself. He was no longer the poor Drake boy living in a home over spilling with children. He was Wes, the aspiring FBI special agent with the brains to actually make it. The classes he took were specially planned to prepare him for the interview process as well as the field itself. Before he knew it, he was graduated with an interview scheduled with the FBI.


 


Needless to say, he was hired and after the first two years they were so impressed with his work that they made him a permanent member of the elite forensic group. Now not only does he partner with the crime scene investigators, he often is the lead detective as he wants practice before moving up to being a criminal profiler. This is not his first high profile case, however, it probably will be the most odd and confusing he'll ever have the pleasure of working on and probably be the most satisfying. At least... if he can successfully solve it.

 

[Cindella]

 Kara frowned as she sat at her computer desk, a word document opened on her computer. It stared blankly at her, almost as if mocking her. She hadn't been able to string together anything that sounded reasonably good in the past week. Her fingers drummed on the keyboard as her green eyes slid over towards her coffee mug. It had gone cold by now. She'd made the mug almost an hour ago and hadn't touched it. Sighing, she leaned back and stared out the window behind her computer. A sight outside caught her interest and she stood up, the chair grating against the hardwood floor as she did. Two police cruisers were parked in front of her house, along with a black SUV. Their drivers and passengers stood in a huddle, glancing between themselves, and up at her house. Her curiosity was piqued now and she moved away from the desk, taking her coffee with her, and headed towards the front door. 
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She opened the door and pushed open the screen door before stepping out onto the small porch. As she did, the four officers and two suited men drew their weapons and aimed them at her. Her eyes widened and she jerked her hands up above her hands, dropping her cup to the ground where it shattered and sent coffee staining the light wood. As quickly as that happened, they had rushed up the stairs and knocked her to the ground. Her chin hit the wood floor hard and she tasted blood in her mouth. She couldn't even protest what was happening, because one person had a knee in her back and was effectively preventing her from being able to breathe properly. The clasp of cold metal circled around her wrists, pinching the skin and then suddenly she was airborne; having been lifted up with ease by one of the thicker officers. She yelped from the sudden pain in her shoulders, but her cries fell on deaf ears.
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Kara was then roughly escorted towards one of the police cars, one of the officers quickly reading her rights to her as they went. She tried to protest and get her side out, but they wouldn't have it. Then, just as quickly she was whisked away and thrown into an interrogation room. Her hands were cuffed to the metal ring in the middle of the table she sat at. She could already see angry red lines around her wrists from the handcuffs, but no one had come back in since she was put in here to loosen them. Sighing, she put her head down on the table, waiting for someone to eventually come in and speak to her about why she was being treated as no more than a common criminal.
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[soular]

Wesley paced the room back and forth, one hand occasionally ruffling his already shaggy hair, and the other gripping his thermos of coffee harder than what was necessary. It was safe to say that over the years he'd developed a caffeine dependency in order to keep up with the vigorous hours they were working him, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative substances he could be addicted to. This case had started less than a week ago, and he already looked like he'd been run over by a truck. Multiple times. It wasn't that this case was particularly crazy, it's just that the main events hadn't even started, and he already had homework to do.


 


One dead body, with the victim killed in an oddly specific manner. At first glance, it was a simple case that the local officers were competent enough to handle. But when they looked closer, they realized the oddities that were starting to pop up all over the place. The murder closely resembled one that was written in a book series of a "popular author" who lived nearby, so now the Feds were involved. Initially, Wesley was annoyed beyond belief. Why were the big dogs being called in on a single murder, when they had serial killers to catch? But the book wasn't singular, it was a series. Which meant they had a limited time to figure everything out before this individual case became a web of messy murders.


 


First order of business, bring in the author. She wasn't technically under arrest, but of course she didn't need to know that. Wesley wanted to bring her in quick, before she realized they were on her trail and decided to leave the country. He decided last minute not to go pick her up himself, leaving the job to the hardcore professionals. It was more likely to get a confession out of her faster if she was feeling guilty. If not, it was at least bound to shake her up a little bit. When she arrived, he waited a few minutes after she'd been placed in the interrogation room. He wanted her as nervous as possible.


 


Eventually he stopped his pacing and crossed the hall, pulling open the door to the interrogation room and entering with a tight-lipped smile. As he passed the officer who locked her to the table, he made a show of grabbing the keys from him and closing the door. Wesley walked briskly over to the table and took his seat across from the woman, reaching across and using the keys to first loosen her handcuffs and then release her constaints from the center of the table.


 


"That's all a bit unnecessary, yeah? Special Agent Wesley Drake. I'm a huge fan of your series."


 


It was a lie, but he wanted to see what reaction he could get from it. First, play the good cop. Then, feign familiarity. He sat his coffee down on the table and a large manila folder followed with a deliberately loud slap against the solid table.

 

[Cindella]

She lifted her head up off of her arm that was resting on the table at the sound of the door being opened. The bottom of her chin was scuffed and raw, but on the positive note the inside of her mouth had stopped bleeding, so the taste of iron was no longer chasing her saliva. Upon lifting her head, she looked at the person who had entered the room from under her pale bangs. The rest of her hair was pulled back in a loose braid down her back. Before she was so carelessly manhandled, it was pulled back into a neat one with not a hair out of place. Now pieces of it curled around her cheek, threatening to tickle her nose if she'd allow it. Her green eyes lifted and locked onto the male entering the room. She watched as he took the keys from the other guard, thinking he was overdoing it a bit, but passed it off as he just enjoyed being in charge; a god complex. 
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Well, there goes my chance at a fair interrogation.
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As he sat down, she couldn't help but take in the man's features. His dark hair, and dark eyes, made him look quite the character. Her eyes squinted just a hair, thinking it'd make a good character in her story. Closing her eyes, she mentally chided herself, now was not the time to be thinking about pretty faces to liven up one's failing career. Once her hands were free, she brought them back towards her chest, holding them against herself as she gently rubbed where they had been worn raw. She had leaned back, wanting to put as much distance between her and him that she could, without having to get up. Her eyes flicked from him, to the door, and back as he spoke, her eyes tightening again as he mentioned he was a fan of hers.

"I hardly think that's appropriate right now."

She said with a frown, her British accent coming through. Before he could reply to her statement, she held up her hand and spoke again.

"First thing is first, I would like to know why I'm here. I would also like to know why I was nearly shot, and then put into the floor like some felon. Lastly, I want my lawyer."

She crossed her arms, a frown still on her face. Her irritation at the situation had only grown the longer she sat chained to the table. She knew her rights and definitely wasn't going to be bullied into confessing against something that these people thought she did, whatever it was.
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[soular]

Wesley raised his eyebrows at Kara's rampant hostility. Of course, she had every right to be pissed and confused, but for some reason she didn't exactly strike him as a hostile person. His eyes flitted over her body, not in an inappropriate way, but in an attempt to properly decipher her body image. She was frowning, and obviously not swayed by his attempt to be the good guy in the room, he'd have to try a different approach with her. He dropped his eyes from her face and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and flipping open his notepad. She wanted to play dumb, then that was fine by him. Wesley never was one to be easily deterred by harsh words.


"A lawyer would be completely unnecessary. You're not under arrest, we just want to ask you a few questions and hear your side of the story. However, I'd be happy to call him up for you, but there's no doubt you'd be stuck here for hours rather than just an hour or so."


In his past experience, once the suspect realized how much longer the process took with lawyer present, they typically changed their mind. He was hoping that would be the case that way he wouldn't have to deal with lawyers and their ambiguous words. Most detectives hated how the legal specialists always convinced suspects to dance around their answers with half truths and fabricated excuses. If Kara wanted to play that game, then fine. It would just convince Wesley that she was truly guilty. Wesley pulled a document from the ominous manila folder, clearing his throat before beginning to read from it.


"The body lay at an odd angle, the arms and legs spread like a child preparing to make a snow angel. The scene was surreal, and almost calm, if it weren't for the ghastly smile sewn onto the lips and the bright line of scarlet slit across the throat."


He laid the paper down on the paper and rotated it so that it faced her. It was an excerpt from the first book in her most popular series, probably the most notorious murder out of all of the books. The words went on to describe the graphic scene, painting a horrifying picture in the minds of imaginative readers. However, it didn't come close to how shocking the real life picture was. The next document he removed was a crime scene picture of the victim, that curiously paralleled the words he'd read aloud. It was way too disturbing to show to the public, but Wesley was depending on the shock factor to scare Kara into confessing. He placed the picture next to the photocopied book excerpt before intertwining his fingers and setting his hands on top of the folder.


"We've got ourselves a copycat. Any chance you can explain what's going on?"

 

[Cindella]

She set her jaw when he raised his brows at her response. However, she knew her rights; she had to as most of her books dabbled on the legal side of her murder mysteries. However, she conceded that he was right about waiting for her lawyer and time was something she didn't have. Her publicist had been on her cast since last week to get something to her or else. She honestly didn't think that they'd drop her, she was selling too well right now. No, she had time and they would give it to her if need be. Especially if they wanted her next book. Sighing, she dropped her arms and leaned forwards, resting her forearms on the cold metal table.
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"While you are right about the ungodly amounts of time that is wasted by lawyers, I still reserve the right to stop this interrogation and wait for them if I feel like you are badgering me."

Her gaze then fell to the manilla envelope that he had in his hand. She was already beginning to think that a murder of sorts had happened, it would be the only thing that would explain her being so roughly taken in, and his showy manner. A thought  suddenly occurred to her as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
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He wants me to confess!
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She had half a mind to toy with her answers, in hopes of giving him the same amount of grief as she had been through, but that thought quickly disappeared as he quoted a script from her first book. Her green eyes widened slightly as he did, wondering how it pertained to whatever was going on. As he read the excerpt, she couldn't help but cringe at how ghastly her writing was six years ago. She'd written the novel when she was just barely seventeen; still in high school. She remembered trying to make the most intense murder that she could think of, also thinking of the countless hours she'd spent researching to make sure that her made up murder could actually happen. However, nothing prepared her for what he pulled out next. When he showed her the picture she recoiled abruptly, the suddenness causing her chair to noisily scrape on the tile floor. She stood up quickly, a panicked look in her eyes as she pointed to the picture and looked back at the detective.

"If this is some sick joke, then I'm done here."

Her voice wavered slightly,as she tried to look down at the picture, but couldn't bring herself to.
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[soular]

Wesley realized a little to late that perhaps it was a little too much to show her such a gruesome picture without being absolutely sure that Kara was the murderess. The scraping noise hair chair made caused him to flinch slightly, and despite his regret his deep gaze was unwavering. Other than the flinch he seemed completely unbothered by her discomfort, but he reached out and flipped over the picture so that the image was no longer out in the open. He gestured at her chair calmly as if to tell her to sit, and leaned forward, distributing more of his weight onto his upper arms.


 


"Listen, this isn't a joke. There is absolutely no way in hell I would bother to waste your time or my own by bringing you down here and grilling you over something that's a prank being played. I don't have time for it, you don't have time for it, so why don't you just sit back down so we can just talk? Is that ok?"


 


His eyes and voice softened at the questions. Wesley wanted to get on her good side, despite how frustrating it must be for her. Once she trusted him, she would open up, and then he'd have the information he needed to either pin this crime on her or someone else. Until then though, he had to get the basics out of the way. He knew nothing about Kara or her personal life. It'd be extremely helpful if he could just find out what she was doing around the time of murder, that way he could at least know if she had an alibi or not.


 


"Do you live with anyone who could vouch for your whereabouts during last week? Maybe a boyfriend or husband or someone of the sorts?"


 


He kept his head down when he asked, often finding that if he made eye contact while asking, he would stumble over the words. Wesley was single, of course, but he made it a point of his to never fall for a perp. No matter how gorgeous. Regardless of the matter, he still found it awkward to ask the relationship status of pretty women.


 


"More importantly," he began, looking up this time with the seemingly permanent serious look in his eyes, "do you know anyone who would do this and want to frame you? And do you think you're in any immediate danger? Crazy fan, ex? Give me something to work with here."

 

[Cindella]

She turned from him, brushing her bangs from her face as she stared at the grey walls, fear written on her face. Giving a shaky breath, she turned back to him as he finished speaking; asking her to sit back down. She complied with the request, not wanting to give them reason to charge her as uncooperative and have her detained for any longer than she wanted. As she sat back down, she clasped her hands in her lap with her fingers laced together. They were rightly clasped, as she could only think of the image that was scarred into her mind. When she wrote it, she didn't realize how gruesome it might be if it actually happened. Seeing it now, made her never want to describe a grizzly murder ever again.
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Hearing him ask about where she was last week made her stomach drop. She didn't have an alibi, as most of that week she'd been trying to break out of her writers block. The only time she left the house was to get her mail. Her gut twisted with nausea at the thought now. Living home alone, with someone eager to re-enact her heinous murders? She felt a shiver of fear race up her spine.

"No... I- I live alone."
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She knew that didn't help her case one bit, but she knew if she lied about it that it would eventually fall through and they would suspect her even more. Kara chewed on the side of her bottom lip, a habit she had when under stress, and listened while he asked her more questions. She knew it would be best to cooperate, so she told him all she could think of.

"I can honestly say that I don't know who would do this. It... it's beyond me as to why someone would act out my book at all. As for danger? No, but I don't feel safe being alone knowing that someone is out there taking my words and..." She broke off, breathing in deeply before she continued. "I have so many fans, of all different personalities. I don't know them all, but there are a handful that I've had to get restraining orders on, I can have my lawyer fax you copies of them. As for exes... only one. But he didn't seem like the murderous type. His name is Trevor Kells. I broke it off with him after finding out that he was sleeping with my old publicist."
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She cast her eyes to the ring in the center of the table, thinking of how badly that went down. They were going to be getting married in just a few months, but he showed his true colors before it could happen. He did say that she would regret it, but she didn't stick around to really listen to it.
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[soular]

He let her speak, taking notes quietly in the little black book he carried with him everywhere. She lived alone, had several crazy fans, and even an ex that he now needed to look into. Great. He knew this investigation was going to be a difficult one, but he hoped that it'd be at least slightly more straight forward. Wesley had no one to talk to about Kara except the woman herself, which meant that he couldn't get a true look into who she truly was. He wanted to know whether or not she was capable of doing something horrifyingly terribly, but so far all he had to go off of was his gut. In short, he was currently fucked.


 


"Trevor Kells, thank you. But by the way, no one ever seems the murderous type. Not until you catch them hovering over the body with the knife literally in their hands. Be careful."


 


Wesley let his statement hang in the air for a moment, curious to see how she'd react to that. If she was guilty and nervous, maybe she'd think that he meant her. Paranoid people always overthought things. If she was innocent, then that would be good too, because then she'd heed his warning and tell him every person who seemed to be not right, not just the ones who were overly obvious about it.


 


"Right then, we're done here," he said after a few moments, gathering his folder and picking up his thermos of coffee that had sat untouched the entire time. "I'd really appreciate your lawyer getting in touch with me and getting me the names of those fans you mentioned. Also, I'll get someone to surveillance your house, because it'd be in your best interests not to go anywhere outside the city until the investigation is over. While you're not formally a suspect, fleeing would give us grounds to put you on that list. Do you understand?"


 


Wesley stood slowly, stretching out his aching muscles before frowning slightly. Kara didn't have a ride home, seeing as they were her ride here. He shook his head briefly and sighed. He'd rather get started now, but he had to chauffer this possible murderess around.


 


"Right, come on then. I'm your ride home so we better hop to it."

 

[Cindella]

At his statement about murderous types, she couldn't help but to look up at him. How ironic it was that he would say that, for she remembered a line from her book that one detective spoke to another. A small snort and a wry smile on her face as she recalled the line.
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Detective Rivers turned away from the crumpled heap on the floor. She didn't understand how it could have been him. Having known Luke for most of his life, she never thought him capable. Her partner's warm hand on her shoulder caused her to turn her head towards him.
"You never know, until you put yourself in their shoes, of who can take another's life." He said, a sad smile on his face.

"I think I wrote something along those lines in my third book."
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Her gaze met his as she said this, wondering if he was just telling her that as a warning, or if he truly believed her innocent. A contemplative expression was on her face as she watched him. However, he cut the silence short by dismissing her and gathering his things. Leaning back in her chair she gave a pleased sigh, a slight grin on her face. However, it disappeared soon as she realized that she'd have to walk home. Being that she had been taken straight from home, in her house clothes, she didn't have her wallet on her, nor her car to take her back. Hoping that it wouldn't rain, she pushed up from her seat at the table and stepped out, sliding the chair under it quietly in the same motion.
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"I'll get you whatever you need to catch this monster. If you need anymore information, you know my address. Maybe this time don't send in the attack dogs first?"

She quirked a brow at him, a flicker of anger still in her green eyes as she crossed her arms over her torso. But, at his statement that he would drive her home, she couldn't help but amuse herself at his expense with her next words.

"How bold of you." She said straightening her shirt as she walked around the table, towards the door. "You must really believe that either I'm not the murdering type, or that you could take me down easily."

As she got to the door, she stopped and looked over at him, her green eyes glinting in mischief.

"If it is the latter, I think you'll find that I'm very capable of defending myself."
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She sighed as she stood outside, waiting for the Detective to finish up inside. Now that she was out from under the scrutiny from the male, she felt like an idiot for adding that last line.

Capable of defending myself? Are you trying to get yourself arrested?!

She looked around, and spied a bench just down the steps from the precinct. With a soft groan, she sank down into the chair and stared out over the road. Defending herself? She barely could get a can of biscuits to pop open with a hammer, let alone defend herself from an attacker. She rolled her eyes at herself before glancing back towards the front doors of the police station, wondering when Special Agent Drake would emerge. Until then, she busied herself watching cars and pedestrians pass by. 
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