CHAPTER 2 - BEYOND THE SURFACE

Scott pushed open the Chief Officer’s office door, walked in with purpose, and stood tall in front of the desk. The Chief looked up from his paperwork, brows furrowed, sensing trouble.

“You got a minute, sir?” Scott asked, voice low but firm.

The Chief leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “Yeah. Go on.”

Scott laid it all out—details, suspicions, everything he’d been piecing together.

When he finished, the Chief’s face went pale. He shot up from his chair, slapping the desk. “What do you mean, serial killing case?” His voice cracked with disbelief.

Scott didn’t flinch. “I’m dead sure about it, sir,” he said, locking eyes with him.

The Chief ran a hand down his face, muttering, “Damn it…” Then he looked at Scott again, more serious now. “Can you handle it?”

Scott nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. But I got a request.”

The Chief squinted. “A request, huh? Lemme hear it.”

“I wanna build a new team. From scratch.”

The Chief’s jaw tensed. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uneasy. “A new team? Ugh… alright, fine. You’ve got my support. I’ll back you however I can.” His voice was tense, his tone heavy with concern.

Later that day, Scott strode into the bullpen and dropped a manila folder onto Ray’s cluttered desk.

Ray looked up, his brows arching. “What’s this?” he asked, tugging the folder toward him.

“Take a look. Tell me what you think,” Scott said, arms crossed.

Ray flipped through the papers, scanning them quickly. A grin crept onto his face. “Oh damn… a new team?”

“Yeah. You in?” Scott asked, his tone casual but expectant.

Ray leaned back in his chair, tossing the file onto the desk. “Hell yeah, man. This is awesome.”

The evening was creeping in as Scott pulled into a modest precinct. Inside, he walked straight to Frank’s desk and dropped another file down with a soft thud.

Frank looked up, caught off guard. “Well, if it ain’t the legend himself,” he said with a grin. “Life treatin’ you alright?”

Scott chuckled. “Same ol’, same ol’. You busy?”

Frank picked up the file, flipping it open. “What’s this?”

“Read it. Let me know if you’re in. We kick things off tomorrow morning.”

Frank’s expression shifted. “Wait—official investigation? About what?”

Scott was already walking off, waving over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Frank.”

Frank frowned, flipping through the pages. “What the hell is this about…?” he muttered.

Later that night, Scott leaned against the side of his black sedan, parked near a quiet station in the outskirts. The breeze tugged at his coat as he waited.

A female detective approached cautiously, suspicion in her eyes.

“I heard you’ve been doin’ pretty well,” Scott said, arms folded, watching her with a faint smirk.

She eyed him carefully. “Who are you?”

Scott pulled out his badge and flashed it.

Her eyes widened and she stood straight, snapping into a crisp salute. “Sir.”

Scott handed her a file. “Give it a read.”

She scanned the contents, then looked up with a gleam in her eye. “I’m in, sir. Count me in.”

“Good. Don’t be late tomorrow,” Scott said, climbing into the driver’s seat.

She saluted again as he drove off into the night.

The next morning, 8:00 a.m. sharp.

Inside a freshly cleared-out section of the department, Scott entered the room where his newly formed team waited. The air was tense with anticipation. Everyone stood.

“Salute!” Frank barked, and the team straightened up and saluted.

Scott raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. “Well damn, you all showed. Let’s get started.”

“Yes, sir!” Stephanie responded sharply.

Scott looked to Ray. “Alright, Ray. You’re up. Brief us on what we got.”

Ray stood, walked to the front, and pulled up images and notes on the screen. The room dimmed slightly.

“We’re dealin’ with a real piece of work here,” Ray started. “Total psycho. That Bible verse—John 9:41—you asked me about? It’s tied into this case.”

Scott nodded, then began pacing slowly. “Here’s the angle. Richard Smith saw the suspect kill Ms. Peters and Mr. Allen. My guess—he got threatened into silence. But two nights ago, he tried to report it.”

“And he ended up dead,” Ray said grimly.

Stephanie leaned forward, eyes sharp. “So the killer was watchin’ him? Like… stalking him?”

“Looks that way,” Ray replied. “Knew exactly when he was gonna make that call.”

Frank scratched his head. “You think he bugged Smith’s place?”

Scott paused, then nodded. “Probably. It’s the only way he could’ve known. We traced an attempted call to the police around 10:15 p.m., just before Smith was found dead.”

Scott grabbed his coat. “Let’s hit the crime scene. Answers are always there.”

Without another word, the team followed him out, tension mounting as the investigation truly began.

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