I own nothing but the plot.

The sharp ring of a phone broke the silence of the apartment, startling Clary and causing her to jerk her hand. She groaned as she looked at the thick black line that now marred her sketch of the New York skyline. Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she checked the caller ID, noting it was the precinct.

"What?" she snapped as she answered it, upset with whoever had made her ruin her sketch.

"Hello to you, too, shortcake," a honey smooth voice came from the other side.

Clary let out an aggravated sigh. Of all people to call her, it had to be him. "What do you want, Jace?"

"I need you to get down to precinct ASAP. We got a murder witness," he said and hung up.

She quickly put away her art supplies, threw on a pair of shoes, and grabbed her work sketchpad and pencil before heading out. She walked the few blocks to the precinct and entered to find it as chaotic as usual. Phones were ringing off the hook and officers were running around all over the place.

Clary walked into the captain's office to find Luke Garroway sitting behind his desk, shuffling through papers. She cleared her throat to get his attention and he looked up at her.

"What can I do for you, Miss Fray?" he asked, a kind smile on his face.

"Do you know where detective Wayland is? He called me about a witness?"

"Ah, yes. Interrogation room C."

"Thanks," she smiled,

She made her way through all the desks and to the hallway that held the interrogation rooms. Stopping in front of room C, she lightly knocked on the door, which opened to reveal Jace.

"The princess has finally arrived," he said, bowing dramatically. "Always showing up on her own time."

Clary glared at him. "I got here as fast as I could, Wayland."

"Well, it wasn't fast enough. We need to get a composite sketch before this witness completely loses her wits."

"What happened?"

"This girl, Aline Penhallow, was visiting her mother, Jia, when they heard a noise downstairs. The mother went to check it out, and the girl heard screams shortly after. She rushed downstairs to see her mother dead on the floor and the murder escaping on foot. Said she got a pretty good look at his face, though."

Clary nodded before entering the room. Jace followed, but she stopped him. "I'd prefer to be alone with her, Jace."

He hesitated before walking out the door, but she knew he would be observing through the two-way mirror.

Clary sat down across from the girl and set her sketchbook on the table. "Hi, Aline. My name's Clary."

The girl looked up at her with red rimmed eyes. "You're not going to ask me anymore questions, are you? I already told the other detective everything that happened. I don't want to explain it again."

Clary smiled kindly at her. "Don't worry, I'm not a detective. I'm actually a composite artist. I'm here to get a sketch of the person you saw fleeing the house. I need you to describe him in as much detail to me as you can."

The girl nodded. "H-he was tall. Around six feet probably. His eyes are what haunt me the most though. They were very dark, almost black. His hair was really fair, almost white."

Clary swallowed hard as the girl began her description. It couldn't be him, could it? He was dead. Had been for nearly ten years. "Can you describe his structure more? What shape was his face? How was he built?"

"Um, his face was kinda triangular, I guess. He had a sharp, pointed chin. His chest was wide and he was really muscular. That's the best I can describe him."

Nodding numbly, Clary stared down at her finished composite sketch. There was no way it could be him. He was dead. Dead people don't randomly show up after ten years and commit murder.

"Is everything alright?" Aline asked, but Clary didn't respond in anyway. "I think something's wrong!" the girl called out.

Clary was barely aware of the door opening and somebody approaching her. "Fray? What is it?" Jace asked from beside her.

She handed him the sketch with out saying anything.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "There's no way."

"What is it?" Aline asked, fear lacing her voice.

"Is this the man you saw?" Jace questioned, showing her the sketch.

"Yes. Why? Am I in danger?"

"Not necessarily. This man is a known criminal. Think of any crime besides treason and he's probably committed it. The only problem is, he died ten years ago. Or at least he made it seem that way."

Clary shot up out of her chair and ran out of the room. She rushed into the bathroom and locked the doors. With shaky hands, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her mother's number.

"Clary?" her mother answered.

"He's not dead, mom," she whispered.

"Who's not dead?"

"Valentine."

Her mother was silent for a few moments. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

"I just did a sketch for a murder witness. She saw Valentine, mom."

"There's no way, honey. I'm sorry. Your father is dead. I identified the body myself."

"He's either alive or a man who looks exactly like him is running around New York killing people."

"I-I don't know how to explain it, Clary, but he's not alive. I have to go now. Call me later, okay? Love you."

"Love you, too, mom."

She hung up and exited the bathroom to find Jace standing outside. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I just suddenly felt sick, but I'm good now."

Jace opened his mouth to reply but was cut of by shouting out front. He and Clary ran out see what the commotion was all about. In the middle of the precinct stood a tall, dark haired man yelling at officers, demanding to see Aline.

Jace walked over to the man, Clary following behind. "I'm detective Wayland. What seems to be the problem here?" Jace asked.

The man glared at him. "I'm here to pick up my cousin but these assholes won't let me back there to get her."

"Your cousin is Aline?" Clary asked.

He turned to look at her and his eyes softened. "Yes. I just got news about my aunt and I need to get Aline. I'm the only family she has left. She's probably terrified and under a lot of emotional stress right now. I'm worried."

"Well, you see-" Jace started, but Clary held up her hand to cut him off.

"Your cousin witnessed a murder, and if the suspect is who she described, she might be in a lot of danger. We need to wait a little to see if we need to put her in protective custody. I know you're worried, but it's safer if she stays with us. If you give me a phone number, we can stay in touch with you, Mr.?"

"Verlac. Sebastian Verlac."

Clary ripped out a piece of paper from sketchbook and handed it to him. "Write down your number and I'll make sure you stay informed about your cousin."

"Thank you so much, Miss-"

"Fray. Clary Fray," she smiled at him, taking his number.

"Okay, Clary Fray. I guess I'll talk to you soon," he said before turning and leaving.

Clary stuffed the paper with his number on it in her pocket and started toward the captain's office. "I need you to keep me updated on Aline so I can keep Sebastian updated on her," she told Jace, who was following her.

"You had no authority to do that, Fray."

"I've seen the same situation enough times to know how to handle it. If I hadn't stepped in, you two would have gotten into pissing contest and made things worse."

"I would have handled that asshole just fine."

"Sure you would have," she replied, opening the door to the captain's office. "Luke, we sort of have a problem."

"What do you mean?" he asked, and glanced at Jace. "Shut the door behind you."

Clary opened her book to the most recent sketch and handed it to him. "This is the man Aline Penhallow claims she saw."

Luke's eyes widened as he looked at the sketch. "Valentine Morgenstern? But that's impossible."

"Is it really, though? I mean, this man was one of the most notorious criminals in the country. Is it really out of his reach to fake is own death? Especially with all the connections he had?"

"Let's say he did fake his own death, why stay under the radar for ten years and the suddenly pop back up and murder someone."

Clary shrugged at him. "I dunno. I'm not the detective here."

"Sir," Jace finally spoke, "I'm not sure I quite agree with Clarissa's theory, but I can promise you, I will get to the bottom of this case."

"Jace, could you step outside for a moment and let me talk to Miss Fray alone?"

"Of course, sir."

Once the door was close, Luke directed his attention back to Clary. "As you have probably already guessed, I know all about your past and your connection to Valentine Morgenstern, Clary. I know Fray isn't your real last name."

Sighing, Clary sank down into a chair. "I had guessed that. I just hoped the fact would never come up. I can't explain it, Luke. I can't explain how he's not really dead."

"That's one of the mysteries we have to solve, Clary. I need to ask you a very important favor." She gestured for him to continue. "As of right now, I'm the only one here who knows of your relation to Morgenstern. However, I have a feeling we're going to need your help on this case. Nobody knows Valentine better than you. I'd like to bring you on as a consultant for this case."

"And tell everyone that Valentine's my father? No thanks," she scoffed.

Luke shook his head. "The only other people on this case would be detectives Wayland and Lightwood. I wouldn't tell them your true relations the him. I'll just tell them your mother happened to be quite involved with profiling Morgenstern while she was a journalist and that you're well informed about him. Will you please agree to help us?"

Shutting her eyes, she let out a deep sigh. "Okay. I'll do it."

New story, yayyy. I'm not really sure where I'm going to take this, it was just an idea that I had stuck in my head for a while.

Review. (: