Chapter 5: The Visit

Back in the city, Elizabeth was a wanted fugitive, known for her crimes of theft. She was a thief.

"Any intel on her?"

"No, detective."

The rhythmic clatter of keyboards filled the busy police station, where officers processed minor criminals behind bars.

Dale, the young charming Detective strode toward his desk, his presence commanding attention. He was tall, strikingly handsome, with a chiseled jawline that looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his black jacket only added to his sharp, intimidating aura.

Dale sighed as he sank into his chair, rubbing his temples. The station buzzed with the usual chaos, officers shuffling paperwork, the hum of conversations, the occasional outburst from a locked-up petty criminal. But his focus was elsewhere.

Elizabeth.

A thief. A fugitive.

And yet, something about her case felt off. She wasn't just another criminal on the run. There was a pattern to her movements, a desperation behind her crimes. People who stole for greed behaved differently.

But Elizabeth? She was running toward something just as much as she was running from something.

Dale leaned back, glancing at the file in front of him. Her mugshot stared back at him young, fierce, haunted eyes.

He drummed his fingers on the desk.

Something told him this case was about to get a lot more complicated.

Dale leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.

Why was Elizabeth so fast? How could she teleport? That wasn't normal. And most importantly how were they supposed to catch her?

Frustrated, he scanned through various criminal records until one name caught his eye.

Gunther.

Dale exhaled sharply. "Gunther must know something," he muttered under his breath. Almost every criminal they'd caught had some connection to the notorious crime boss.

He turned to his colleague, Joe, who was focused on his own work.

"When was the last time you heard anything about Gunther?" Dale asked, leaning over Joe's desk.

Joe looked up, confused. "Who's Gunther again?"

 Dale scoffed. "You know, that fat, disgusting guy with half the city's criminals working under him? We had him once, but he somehow walked free, like always."

Joe furrowed his brows, then nodded as recognition dawned. "Oh, that guy. Yeah… he's been quiet for a while."

Dale grabbed leaned a little towards Joe. "Too quiet. I think it's time we paid him a visit. He always knows something."

Joe sighed, pushing his chair back. "You do realize he's not exactly the cooperative type, right?"

Dale smirked. "Then we just have to make him want to cooperate."

Joe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You really think Gunther's involved in this?"

Dale tapped the file in front of him. "Gunther's always involved in something. If Elizabeth is moving this fast and dodging us like a damn ghost and not to talk about the way she fucking disappears, he might know why."

Joe exhaled sharply, scratching his head. "Alright. But you know how it goes, he won't talk unless he wants to."

Dale smirked, grabbing his jacket. "Then we just have to make him want to."

Joe groaned but stood up anyway. "This is why I don't work with you often."

Dale shrugged. "But you do work with me."

With that, the two of them headed out. It was time to pay Gunther a visit.

"But what about Chief?" Joe asked as he and Dale walked out of the station.

"What about him?" Dale replied without looking back.

"Shouldn't we tell him where we're headed?"

"Why do we need to tell Chief we're just visiting an old friend?" Dale said with a smirk.

Joe let out a frustrated sigh. "Dale, he should know. What if something goes wrong? We're going to Gunther's den."

"Come on, Joe. What could possibly go wrong?" Dale shot him a cocky grin as they both got into the car and sped off.

They finally arrived at Gunther's den, tucked away in a dark alley where crime thrived. Normally, this part of town was alive with chaos…shouting, swearing, or the occasional sound of someone getting roughed up. But tonight, it was eerily silent.

"Something feels off," Dale muttered, his instincts kicking in as he reached for the door in the front porch. It wasn't locked.

He exchanged a glance with Joe before cautiously pushing it open. The familiar stench of cigarettes and drugs hung heavy in the air, but there were no signs of life. Gunther's men should have been on them by now, but the place was deathly quiet.

Moving carefully, they scouted the dimly lit space, their steps slow and deliberate. No movement. No threats. Just silence.

Finally, they reached Gunther's office. The door, like the front, was unlocked. Dale hesitated for a brief second before pushing it open.

Inside, the scene that greeted them was gruesome. Blood stained the floor, pooling beneath a lifeless body.

Joe gagged, his stomach churning as he turned away, trying to keep his dinner down.

Dale, unfazed, scanned the room. His sharp eyes landed on the murder weapon, a bloodied lamp lying just a few feet away. He exhaled slowly.

"Well," he muttered, "looks like someone got to Gunther before we did."

"Shit! What are we going to do, man? This is a fucking murder case…clearly!" Joe said, his voice rising in panic.

Dale, unfazed, reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of gloves. He crouched beside the lifeless body, his sharp eyes scanning every detail.

"He's been dead for at least a day or two" he murmured, pressing two fingers to Gunther's cold wrist as he examined the scene.

Joe swallowed hard, his stomach still unsettled. "He was hit multiple times in the head… Must've been out of anger. I mean, the killer didn't stop hitting, his head is completely messed up."

Dale nodded, his expression unreadable. "Brutal. Whoever did this wanted to make sure he was gone."

Joe took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Dale, let's call the forensics department. And Chief, too. This is a crime scene."

Dale didn't respond right away. His gaze swept the room once more before landing on something…..an open drawer, slightly ajar, its contents disturbed.

His brows furrowed as he stepped toward it. "This drawer…" he muttered under his breath.

It wasn't just any drawer. It had been searched through recently.

Dale's mind raced. Someone had been looking for something. And if Elizabeth had been here, this could be their first real lead.