I sipped my latte clean before registering myself for the third shift of the night. It's been two days and there was still no information James that we could tag. The police academy he went to- Fresno City College, they were unable to retrieve records, even after they sent word to the headquarters division. It was as if he stopped existing. As I sat inside the cold, grey hospital room, I imagined the TV flaring a bright conference scene held by August Meyers.

He was going to do a press release soon, as ordered by the Captain. Albeit him being a total jerkass when it came to personality and a sloth when it came to paperwork, he was a real sweet talker with the press. It was the only time he would pull himself together professionally, which fueled my hate furthermore.

As James' picture flashed with a big red 'WANTED' underneath, I rubbed my eyes and switched back into reality. Resting my head on my arm, I confined into a peaceful silence. "It's him," the patient let out a soft cry. I snapped my head towards her frugal, warning eyes. She grappled to sit on her raised elbows as she shivered uncontrollably. "He's after me. I did nothing," she moaned, "I don't want it to be him!" She jerked my reaching hand out of the way as sweat laced her forehead. Her limbs still shaking feverishly, she stared at the window and into the starless night. "Why him?"

"Who?" I asked, clutching her shoulders. She pushed me away and screamed at the top of her lungs, hands covering her ears, body rocking back and forth. "Huh?" She shifted her confused glare, then suddenly dropped on the bed and started twitching all over. "Seizure," I barely murmured to myself, "She's having a seizure." I searched for the emergency button and pressed it, but the red light supposed to indicate the alarm didn't beam.

Flipping her sideways, I monitored her heart rate and started counting seconds. Saliva dripped from her mouth as I arranged the cushions at her side. The beeping of her cardiac monitor glitched into acceleration, "Oh no," I gasped uneasily.

This is bad.

The unwanted panic settled in as I ran into the hallways, "Code Blue!" I roared. The night duty nurses were nowhere in sight. I went downstairs and yelled once again, catching the attention of several nurses, "Code Blue! Room three-zero-one, now!" Two of the free nurses ran alongside me back to where the living victim was held, her cries slowly dying. Approaching the entrance of the room, I stopped.

Holy shi-

"I'm dialing," said one of the nurses who recovered from the shock that consumed us. "No, no, no, no, no..." I cried aloud, "Sandra..." I called the patient's name. No use for that now. She was as good as dead. Her neck was slit, blood oozing out of it like a broken water fountain. A heart-shaped carving embroidered on her wrist from which ruby fluid trickled to the floor. I waited outside on the benches of the reception.

Another life took.

I didn't have the guts to go back inside and investigate. Ezra marched out of the room and seated himself beside me. "This is definitely a drug overdose," he sighed, "My opinion; a stimulant." Noticing that I wasn't interested in his observations, he coughed. "The Captain wants to see you."

"You always bring bad news. Especially if it involves the Captain," I grunted. Hopeless, I rode my car towards the precinct. The burly old man with a scowl stitched on his face tapped his foot impatiently, arms folded and shirt buttoned tight to his invisible neck. "You're demoted," he hissed, shoving me into his office. "The emergency button wasn't working so I had to go call them myself," I argued patiently.

"Then you should've yelled from the room!"

"The available nurses were on the first floor."

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Act like you did nothing wrong!" he growled. "Because I didn't, you-" I halted, realizing my mistake. "What? You, what?" he said, taking a step further. "Nothing," I sighed, looking away as I balled my fists. "Meyers!" He exited the room, "You're in charge!"

"Oh, so this is what it's about? We're not even sure how the killer even managed to get inside the building and you're worried about saving your image in front of the Meyers?" I scoffed. "You need a break," he said, pushing me out of his office, "Clear your head. You've been letting your emotions run wild ever since you joined the field again. Meyers reported what happened at the cabin-"

"To hell with Meyers!" I screeched and thundered out of the office. "Fucking retard," I spat, sitting inside my car. I drove at high speed, going wherever my temper was taking me. Horns beeped as I turned the car with force and pulled over into James' driveway. "I'll show him what a real detective does."

Angered, I stormed into his empty, impoverish structured house still under construction from the damage done by the search team. The walls were hammered hollow and the wooden planks were uprooted. "Where would I hide a potential clue if I were a serial killer?" I voiced my thoughts. I made a further mess of the rackety house by cutting open the mattress, pillows and couches with a screwdriver resting in a leftover toolbox. I moved onto the kitchen and tampered with boxes of serial, spices and a bag of rice sitting under a kitchen cabinet. Climbing upstairs to the attic, I emptied every drawer in the muddy white wardrobe. Nothing.

As I stalked back to the walking space at the bottom of the stairs, a floorboard creaked beneath me. It looked... out of place. Unlike the other, rubble covered planks, this one was neatly placed with a brighter colour than the rest. Someone must've planted it recently. I picked up a hammer from the inside of a damaged wall and violently thrashed it repetitively unto it, letting out my frustration.

After the plank broke, I unhinged the board to reveal a collection of pictures crossed out with a red marker. The first four were the victims. Without wasting time, I stuffed the pictures in my blazer pocket and jaunted back to the station. "Hey," approached Aisha, but I shook her off and aimed straight for the Captain's office. Slamming the pictures on his unusually cleaned desk, I yapped, "This was in James' house."

"Right," he threw a bitter stare at me, "Now that August is leading the team, you're working efficiently. "

What?

I gritted my teeth and just gawked at his cheap behavior, rendered speechless. "I am not like him!" I thrust my head back in a sour laugh. "You still need a break. You worked over the weekend, so unlike the other detectives, I'm giving you permission to take leave earlier. If you even step back into the precinct after this, Reeves, I will fire you."

Exhausted from his bullshit, I headed home. Mrs Brye was lounging in the living room, watching the news. "I'll warm you some food," she smiled sympathetically and sashayed off into the kitchen with her adorable small frame. Opening one of the windows of my neatly decorated living room, I searched my blazer pockets for a leftover cigarette. Instead, I came across one of the pictures remaining from the bunch I threw onto the table. It was of Diana Rose, Jack's girlfriend.

And it was circled green.

"I have to go," I hollered, but before I could even open the front door, Mrs Brye grabbed my arm and spun me around. "No," she said, "You ain't goin' nowhere unless you finish ye'r food. A full tummy always calms ye'r nerves." I complied to her demand and sat on the dining table, gobbling up some rotisserie chicken. I noticed something intriguing about Merida, whenever she got mad, her thick, southern accent would resurface automatically. "How did you make it? It tastes delicious!" I hummed, corresponding to her rant and frequent mumbling as she went on about her mother's recipe.

I freshened up and changed into more comfortable clothes. I went to check up on Merida, who glued her eyes on the news channel. "Isn't that your friend? He's got a sharp tongue, eh?" She dearly pointed a long finger at the screen where Meyers was doing an interview. "A rotten asshole, not a friend," I muttered under my breath and plopped onto the couch.

I changed my mind to investigating on my own. If he wanted me to not even step on the station's floor, I would not. However, that wasn't going to stop me from catching the supposed King of Hearts. It would be delightful to watch the Captain make any 'progress' with Meyers on the case. Leaving Karma to do her dirty work, I snapped a picture of the evidence left with me and sent it to Aisha. I wasn't allowed to enter the office but if he found out that a piece of evidence was left with me, he'd be out on my throat. Ready to play his filthy game, I fetched my diary from the mantelpiece of my artificial fireplace and prepared my next step of the investigation I would continue in my period of 'holiday'.

"It's gonna rain tomorrow," I followed Mrs Brye's eyes and glanced at the weather forecast display. I nodded and continued to scribble all the questions I would ask Diana Rose. My screen flashed a reply from Aisha came asking about the picture, I explained the situation to her.

You have my full support, you workaholic she-devil.

Smiling at her message, I framed one more question before stretching my back. "I'm taking a nap, Merida," I said, "And don't watch too much of garbage. Okay?" I set my alarm for early in the morning and kissed Phoebe's picture by my bedside table. "Goodnight, little angel," I whispered before greedily recharging my deprived sleep.

I promise to avenge every death by catching the killer and my sanity by giving Meyers and his bloody dog a kickass comeback.