Aisha, Meyers and I arrived at the local hospital as quick as we could to a bleeding patient with not a sign of hair on her body, lying with her hospital gown drenched in crimson, sprawled on the floor. "She was already d-dying," wailed Mitchelle as she crouched next to a teary-eyed Detective Noor. "Why did he h-have to k-kill her?" She cried, "W-why?"

After they cleared the crime scene away and sent the body to forensics, Mitchelle had finally calmed down. She wiped her runny nose and began talking, "I took a leave because Josephine was getting sicker and sicker. She became a cancer patient only a few weeks ago, and the doctors said predicted a very less survival rate. I had to stay with her. She was my only family... we only had each other. I couldn't let her be alone now that she-" she paused solemnly, correcting herself. "I couldn't let her be alone when her health was declining further."

"What were you doing at the University?" I inquired, sitting down next to her at the reception. To prevent her from getting overly emotional, James had suggested that we take her away from the area, sit her down and pamper her with some food when I called to inform him of the whole situation. "She studied there," sighed Mitchelle, blowing her nose into her wrinkled tissue. Disgusted, Myers grabbed another and handed to her. "Go on," he urged, earning barbaric glares from me and Aisha. "Charles was kind enough to start the online classes program in which I enrolled her. Ever since the killings started, I got anxious day by day."

"I know we weren't supposed to disclose any details to anyone apart from the police or the team, but I was so worried. I'm so sorry!" She cried, "I'm sorry I told her what was going on," she repeated, leaning her head on my shoulder as I rubbed her arm for comfort. "But did it help?" I asked, "Yeah, she told me she wasn't on good terms with Jack. He was a suspect, and it scared me. I went to the University to remove her from that awful place. I didn't know that you guys were there too. James told me about it over the phone."

"It's okay, Mitchelle," I breathed soothingly, "We'll bring her to justice."

The next day the Captain summoned to his Office. "Yes, Captain?" I knocked, "Come in, Reeves," he said, eyes still focused on a bunch of case files stacked neatly on his usually messy desk. "I will cut it short and say it straight to your face," he looked up, pulling off his detachable reading glasses. "If I don't get a lead from you in three days, I'm giving Detective August Meyers the lead. If that happens, you'll be in charge of the upcoming press-release,"

"Press release?" I gasped in an accusing manner, "Are you okay, sir? You know what would happen if we did a press release? The killer could easily track our move!"

"I know what I'm doing!" He slammed his hands against the table, "Close the door," he looked past me to the several curious gazes dropping into his office. "I know what I'm doing," he gritted his teeth, taking a step from behind his desk. "There will be a press release, one that could warn the people of Carmel and send alarms to the international media," he exhaled, pinching the nose of his bridge.

"That's okay, but-"

"Let me finish," he closed the office blinds as more people starting peeping in- which I believe wouldn't have happened if this jerk didn't overreact. "I very well know this is Meyer's play, but he can only do so if you get me a strong lead by next Monday. If you don't face the crowd and you very well know how that can go."

He was right. If I show my face to the press now, they will start digging for information about me and unlike Meyers' supposed 'charm', record and reputation- I wasn't spotless. The reason I got into police work was because of my abusive father and alcoholic mother responsible for beating my elder brother to death who, at the time was eight, connected with the Police. I was only a baby therefore I didn't remember much, but for many people- mostly my foster family, who were my neighbours before they adopted me- he was the most loveable, responsible, and adoring older brother anyone could ever have. He protected me from the monsters living in my own home. That it was because of him I was alive. And it was because of me he was dead.

If the press got a hand on my unfortunate background, more recently about my dead husband and daughter. The rumors about me being a bag of bad luck would spread like wildfire. Although I know many people won't hate me, they'd still give me funny, pitiful looks. Show sympathy, be overly kind and knowing almost half of the Monterey County, will come to get my attention to get something from me, or be a part of the hot topic I would become.

Wonderful, not only was I under pressure from the killer, the victims' families and poor Mitchelle, but now the Captain was filling more of the bucket for me. I stormed off to the briefing room, calling all my teammates in, which included a smirking asshead also known as August-flipping-Meyers. It was no joke that Meyers' was Romero's favourite. That stupid jerk just had to be born in one of the richest family in Carmel. The Tillman Meyers' company employed Romero's wife and only son, making that cheap man Meyers' loyal dog in the trade. Everybody knew that story, but no one really cared.

Oh, I am so going to rip his intestines out after this case.

"What happened back there?" Asked Mitchelle in a gruff voice, who insisted on getting back to work, albeit the amount of times we tried to convince her. Lowkey, I understood that now. This case was her only distraction, and that she was surely forcing herself to work harder than ever because of her strong thirst for revenge. Last night she decided to drunk dial me at home and ranted about all her evil plans in making the 'King of Hearts' pay. Another reason she looked like a complete mess.

"Nevermind that," I sat down on the nearest chair with a huff. "Can we have a look at the cards? What did we get?" Respecting my privacy, the team then started their takes. Aisha explained that formerly, they couldn't find any fingerprint matches on all the collected evidence, which meant that the suspect was very cautious and tidy. "I searched for card company matches on gaming sites, thrift shops and business stores from small to large. Nothing," shrugged Myers, dropping his file on the table. Now I get it. This dude used resources from his father's company to dig up information rather than using our database. In order for him to not get 'caught', Tillman Myers talked to the Captain who supposedly gave him permission to access information from the company. Thus giving Romero the impression that he worked even at home and was even ready to put his father's business on the line to get work done.

What a sly son of a-

"Geisha?" James waved a hand in front of my face, "You seem lost in thought, is everything okay?" I gave him a blank look before shaking my head. Now's not the time to lose your temper Geisha, focus. "I was saying these could be custom made," he pointed at the scanned pictures of the card. "Not could. They are custom made," I continued, diverting their attention from me. "Also, look at the writing, it's handwritten, professional cursive. If the killer lived here, then the Talent Coaching center by the Silone real estate must have taught him. Another possibility he could be a teacher there."

"Also," added Aisha, "I think we should do an international search on these cards, because I searched up a case from fifteen years ago when Detective Lyson- you know the fat man with a moustache on our Precinct's poster?" She scrunched her nose, "Yeah. He went undercover on a French Solitaire gambling site which lead to his discovery of a young mafia boss's business in France. The gang got exposed, but the police could capture only some members who the court tried for their crimes. The leader got away."

"Your point?" Meyers folded his arms, impatiently tapping his feet against the ground. "I'm saying that he's sitting as a retired man at his home, withholding information about a certain card making machine he won from the site. I booked a meeting with him to check that baby out!" Simpering, she flailed her arms around in excitement, "Why didn't you tell us before?" I furrowed my brows together.

"Surprise?"

During lunch, I walked to the Edwardian styled cafe after a long chain of thoughts. Upon reaching there, I saw Charles sitting by the window, typing away on his laptop. "Hey," I approached, "May I have a seat?"

"Please do!" He exclaimed, eyes sparkling behind his expensive glasses. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" He questioned drafting a waiter to get my order. "What are you doing here?" I smiled, nodding at his laptop. "Oh, I was just marking a student's report. She made it on my favourite historical figure!" He said, peering his eyes from the screen and shutting his laptop down to turn to me attentively. "You seem like another history fanatic," I chuckled, starting a conversation, "Who is it?"

"Charles the Seventh," He beamed at me, going off about why did he like him the most. Although, normally anybody would get bored really easily listening to a middle-aged man starting to turn a conversation into a history lecture. But the way Charles pulled it off was alluring. I did not understand why, but it was just something about him that captivated a person's attention like no other. Also, I wasn't sure if it was just me because I loved history or because I found him guiltily attractive.

"I must have bored you by now," he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. We talked for a little while more before I declared I had to head back to the station. Claiming to pay for my coffee as politely as he could, he succeeded in making me feel embarrassed. Not sure if it was the bad kind. Ignoring the hopelessly romantic thoughts along with my reddened face, I went back to finishing my paperwork and helping Myers with shop searching for different card making machines.

When I had a little time left to myself after spending half the day unsuccessful, I did some digging on Charles the Seventh's biography. As I scrolled through the pages of historian.org, I came across a very critical piece of information.

His good nature was believed to be the inspiration of the famous suicide king in the Tarot cards, more strongly known as the king of hearts.