The crimson glare from the Riverside Hospital's sign illuminates from the east side of the building, its reflection rippling in a small puddle of water Sheriff Martinez crosses through as hurriedly makes his way to his squad car. He unlocks the door, taking a deep sigh as he climbs into the driver's seat and shuts it behind him.

The second he turns the key in the ignition and the radio lights up a faded green, he grabs the receiver from its hook and uses his thumb to hold on the side button as he speaks into it. "Bonnie, any news on the Chase kid?"

"No word yet." The dispatcher, who doubles as the quaint police station's part-time receptionist, responds immediately. Her raspy, monotone voice is enough to make someone's ears bleed. It had been no more than a couple of minutes since he had first radioed in and, luckily enough, two officers were already patrolling a street a block away from the Chase residence. "Patrol said he wasn't at the house so they're questioning the parents right now."

Martinez shakes his head, as if the woman on the other end could see him, and reaches over with his free hand to grab his seatbelt. He takes another sigh, pulling it to where the latch clips into the lock. "What about his sister? Taylor?"

"Negative. The officer said that she wasn't home ei—" Bonnie suddenly pauses, as if a new call is coming through.

Knowing her all too well, he quickly grows worried. She has worked at the station for over twenty years and never once had she abruptly cut off to take an incoming call, regardless of the matter. At least not without an 'excuse me' or 'just one moment' anyway. Then again, this town has never been in such deep shit either. "Bonnie?"

She doesn't respond. The dead silence in the background of the call is enough to make his blood turn cold. The last thing he needs right now to hear is that they found another body of a poor teenager.

"Bonnie, what is it?!"

"Sheriff, we just received a call from an alarm company." Her tone is completely different now, reeking of both empathy and hesitation. "There's a suspected burglary in process."

"Send a unit." He says all too quickly, not exactly sure why she would even bother telling him this. Clipping the receiver back onto the radio, he peers up at the windshield as he clenches onto the steering wheel with one hand and the gear with the other. Attempting to take a moment to recollect his thoughts, and yet again process what Paige had told him just moments ago, he stares forward when the radio—again—cuts on.

"Sheriff..." This dispatcher takes a moment to catch her breath. "It came from your home address."

Eyes widening, Martinez pulls down on the gear to quickly shift it into drive. He peels through the parking lot carelessly, passing a familiar red Mustang as he skids out of the lot's entrance and onto the service road. He grabs the receiver, pulling it so fast that it nearly rips the cord from the radio. "Send all available units now!"

"Martinez—"

"Now, goddamnit!"

♫ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇs / ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛʀʏ ♫