The late afternoon sun cast a lazy warmth over the dashboard as Hunter sat in the car, waiting. Watching.
He rubbed his eyes. Glanced at his phone. Checked the time. Rinse and repeat.
It had become a ritual. Mechanical and obsessive.
He didn't know what he was looking for. He just knew there was something.
And he would find it. Even if it took all summer and the rest of his sanity.
Ever since his conversation with David, the obsession had gripped Hunter like a fever. No matter how deeply he thought about it, or how much he dissected it in his head, the conclusion was always the same.
David was definitely hiding something about Kat's death.
To what extent, Hunter didn't know. But he would find out, by whatever means necessary. He'd pry it out, even if it meant peeling David open like a rotten fruit.
Flipping through the notes in his pocket-sized notebook, he looked at the time again. 5:09 PM. David would be making his appearance soon, but first…
Cue the guy with the funny socks.
A stocky man in a suit exited the office across the street. Bright yellow socks with red stripes flashed beneath his trousers like warning lights.
Next up, the gimpy leg dude.
Another man exited the office building, taller this time, and more heavily built. His left leg dragging ever so slightly with each step.
It was almost unnoticeable, unless you were trained to see such things.
Patterns and signs were everywhere, if one paid enough attention.
Two weeks of this. Like clockwork. If he wasn't alphabetizing biographies at the library, he was parked here, eating dust and watching men in questionable footwear choices.
So far, these stakeouts had provided very little to no information on David. But that didn't matter. Hunter had done this before. He knew the drill.
Time and patience. That's what always cracked things open.
According to Hunter's notes, David would be out within fifteen minutes.
Initially, he had begun his stakeouts at 11 AM, thinking maybe David would go out during his lunch breaks. He had not.
Sighing, Hunter reached for the pack of crackers he'd been steadily snacking on.
He had lost so much weight in the past few months. It was truly a wonder how he was functioning normally. A far cry from his days on the force, when he had built his body and ate like a machine.
When David finally exits the building, Hunter stretches his neck, stifling a groan.
Here we go.
First stop, the supermarket? Or is it the coffee shop?
His walking pace was slow, casual. Yet somehow, he still had that air of arrogance about him. It was irritating.
Hunter followed, not too far, but not too close either. He couldn't afford to be recognized. Renting a completely different car from his own was safe, but taxing on his bank account.
A part-time job at the library barely covered food, let alone car rentals and fuel.
At this rate, he'd be eating instant noodles in a week. Again.
This was something he couldn't continue for much longer, and despite doing his best to stay patient, Hunter would admit he was starting to get a little restless.
Maybe this wasn't the best way to get something on David, but it was definitely worth trying. At least he could cross it off the list.
Hunter watched David carefully. The obnoxious way he would slick his hair back every so often. Or how he would flash his fake smile at anyone who so much as glanced in his direction.
As expected, David veered toward the supermarket. He usually took anywhere between seven to fourteen minutes in there.
Not once in two weeks of observation had he turned right at the crosswalk when leaving the supermarket.
So when he did, casually, like it meant nothing… Hunter sat up straighter in his seat.
No hesitation in David's stride, no looking over his shoulder. He knew exactly where he was going.
Hunter waited a beat, then started the car and rolled forward, careful to keep at least two cars distance between them.
He follows him for around five minutes, right through the heart of town. Eventually they reach a small side street, tucked away and hidden in plain sight.
The windows were boarded up, the signage faded and half missing, like no one had touched the place in years. A CLOSED sign hung crookedly from inside the dusty glass door.
But David didn't hesitate. He pulled a thin envelope from his coat and stepped inside, without even needing to knock.
Hunter frowned.
There were no lights inside. Just shadows shifting against the boarded slats.
A few minutes passed. Then David emerged, empty-handed, expression unreadable. No glance over the shoulder. No hurry in his step. He just walked off like it was any other errand.
But to Hunter, it wasn't nothing.
A closed store. An envelope. No lights, no one else in sight.
Hunter waited until David turned the corner before parking and crossing the street. He tried the door. Locked. No peephole, no buzzer. Just dust and rot.
He walked the perimeter, but found nothing else. Whoever – or whatever – was inside, had stayed hidden.
Hunter stepped back, unsettled. This wasn't some paranoid hunch anymore. It was a thread. And David had just yanked it.
He could feel it in his gut. There was no doubt now. Whatever just happened behind that door wasn't normal. The man wasn't just arrogant, he was careful. Calculated.
Hunter lingered for a while, staring at the crooked CLOSED sign, as if it might straighten itself out and offer him an explanation.
He turned back toward the car, frustration thick in his chest. Two weeks of stakeouts, and this was the first real bite. But it wasn't enough.
His notepad sat on the passenger seat, filled with times, dates, possible patterns… pieces of a puzzle he still didn't understand.
By the time he pulled into the apartment lot, the sun had slipped below the rooftops, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete.
Hunter dropped his keys onto the counter and slumped onto the couch without bothering to turn on the light. The silence wrapped around him like a second skin.
He stared at the ceiling for a while, the exhaustion of the day claiming him.
He didn't remember falling asleep. But when he opened his eyes again, the light outside had shifted, tinged with the final moments of twilight. A couple of hours must've passed.
He instantly reached for his phone. Out of habit more than hope.
Time to check the socials.
It was something he didn't spend too much time doing. Not unless it was necessary.
Social media was not his favorite thing. Yet he couldn't deny how much of a gold mine it could be for information. It certainly had been in the past.
Sometimes, things were hidden in plain sight, right in front of our eyes.
David was a narcissist. He posted about the better parts of his life frequently. What he ate. Where he went. Things nobody cared about, but him.
Then he saw it.
A fresh post, just an hour old. A grinning selfie of David in front of a sleek black suitcase, captioned:
"Off to the company retreat this weekend. Apparently I'm too valuable to leave behind! 😏 Always an honor to be handpicked by the higher-ups. Let's show 'em how it's done."
The hashtags underneath were even more unbearable. #GrindMindset #LeadershipVibes #AwayButWinning
Hunter snorted. It wasn't even subtle. David practically drooled over his own reflection. But underneath it was something useful: confirmation.
He'd be gone. Gone for the whole weekend, if previous company retreats were anything to go by.
Hunter's fingers tightened around the phone.
A sudden idea came crashing into the forefront of his mind.
It might take him weeks, or even months, to find something from stakeouts. And it was becoming more difficult to pay for the car rental. He could follow him on foot, but that carries its own risk.
And if Hunter wanted answers, he'd have to look somewhere David hadn't already wiped clean.
If David had buried the truth, it wasn't in his office. Or his fake smile. It was in the one place he thought no one would dare to look.
David would be out of town this weekend. Leaving his house empty, practically begging to be searched.
Hunter's next move was illegal. But so was being complicit in a murder.
He'd bent the law before. Just never this far.
It was time to break into David's house.