Boo's quest for knowledge begins with Harry's notebook tucked into a small black bag, a lock-picking set discreetly filched from the hardware store's tool aisle, and a thunderstorm strong enough to send God to His knees.

The rain seemed to come every day now, bringing with it a constant reminder of the deep rift caused by Monroe. It wasn't just Boo who felt different; Jack Creek as a whole had evolved into something much darker and more paranoid than before. A beast now sleeps beneath the city and lingers in the empty stare of every resident Boo passes on her drive to the police station. At any moment, it could awaken and unleash a rage that has been brewing for decades.

Hush, her heartbeat thrums. Hush . . . hush . . . hush.

First Martha, then the nameless bodies from the tape, and now maybe Damien. Even with Monroe long gone, the threat of a life ending still presses down on Jack Creek. Boo's stomach twists into knots as she approaches the station, crowned by a literal ring of dark clouds.

Her plan is the epitome of stupid; almost downright suicidal. Breaking into a locked room of the Jack Creek police department, a place swarming with people who only wish her harm. But if there were any place to begin, it would be to find out what the police already know-about Martha and about Damien. Despite Harry's persuasions, Boo still can't escape the thought of Damien vanishing. Surely there is more to his story, and she can't help but think the police hold more answers than they're willing to share.

The parking lot is mostly empty. She'd waited to go until the early evening, when the morning shift would be leaving and the evening shift would just be starting. Boo knows the inner workings of the station like clockwork; one thing she could thank Lori for.

She parks Tabitha across the street and cuts the engine, bathing the cabin in the dull light of dusk. Rain beats down on the windshield, splitting her vision with writhing rivulets of water. Two officers come marching down the front steps of the station, one of them none other than Nathaniel Waters himself.

Prey watches predator with bated breath. Nathaniel splits off by himself and ambles to his cruiser, his slow gait unbothered by the rain. Once his car is gone, Boo makes her move. The dying sunlight paints long shadows through the rain that shift across the parking lot. Boo's silhouette flickers along the gravel, racing towards the front entrance. She slips inside, careful to tiptoe so the desk cop doesn't hear her.

By a stroke of luck, the desk is empty. Seizing her moment, she makes a beeline for the office on the left, where the blinds are still drawn tightly shut just as they'd been weeks before during Lori's arrest.

A sign by the oak door reads "RECORDS ROOM". Her heart pounds against her ribcage like a frantic drum. She knows she only has mere moments before someone walks into the hall and catches her with her hand in the cookie jar.

The door swings open with relative ease once she picks the lock. She makes a mental note to thank Mikey for showing her how as she slips into the room and shuts the door behind her. Darkness swallows her up immediately, broken up only by the flashlight on her phone. Surrounding her are dozens of tall metal filing cabinets, each labeled alphabetically. Her eyes sweep the room, eventually landing on what she wants.

B-L. She retrieves the lockpick and gets to work on the cabinet lock.

A small click. Her breath hitches in her throat as the tension on the tools releases and the metal cabinet pops out. Boo stuffs the lockpick back into her pocket before digging her fingers into the handle and rolling open the drawer. Metal wheels squeak in protest. Hundreds of files await her, the weathered tabs on each one brushing against the lip of the metal cabinet as she slowly begins to rifle through the names.

Her fingers dive into the B section and swiftly tug out Damien's folder. She scans the other drawers to see if there's a folder bearing Loughton's name, but she can't find any. Once Damien's file is secured away, she opens the T-Z cabinet. Her eyes scan the T section until she spots Martha's file and liberates it as well. Nathaniel, like Loughton, also lacks a file. Nor, strangely enough, can she find anything about Calum.

She goes to close the drawer and make her escape when one final name stops her.

Taylor, Mel.

The smooth manila folder is thicker than she could've expected. Her pulse thunders in her ears as she contemplates taking it; mere moments pass before a sound from the hallway pulls her back to reality and her own file is tucked securely in her bag next to Martha and Damien's.

Shadows punctuate the yellow light seeping in under the door. Boo wastes no time carefully shutting the drawer and sliding into a dark corner as heavy footsteps approach.

The door flies open and Boo has to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. From her vantage point peeking through a cluttered bookshelf she spots her intruder, and her heart sinks in fear.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by a backdrop of dim hallway light, is Detective Loughton.

Boo couldn't have dreamt up a better nightmare if she tried.

His hard gaze sweeps the room. Only then does the realization hit that she must've left a trail of small, waterlogged footprints leading directly to the Records Room.

Loughton ambles into the room, the heels of his shoes gently tapping the tile floor. "Well, well. I hope no one is hiding in here," he croons menacingly.

Boo's pulse is a runaway freight train threatening to derail at any minute. Her eyes squeeze shut in terror; she doesn't want to know, or even imagine, what a man like Loughton has planned for trespassers.

The heavy sound of his shoes comes closer, agonizingly slow. "What a shame that would be," he continues in a dark voice.

"Loughton!" someone shouts from the hallway. "What are you doing in there?"

Leave. Please just go.

His lumbering shadow turns and Boo prays he isn't distracted by the overwhelming beating of her heart. "Just locking up. I'll be leaving in a moment." He steps closer to the doorway and the hallway light reflects off the leering smile spread across his face. "Hey, O'Malley's in an hour?"

Seemingly satisfied with finding no intruders, Loughton leaves and the door slams shut behind him. Footsteps pad away down the hall. Muffled thunder rumbles outside the building, just long enough to disguise the relieved sob that slips from Boo's mouth.

Harry was disturbingly right. Loughton was definitely more of a threat than Calum. The same could surely be said for Nathaniel, but Boo doesn't need a close encounter with him to know that.

She makes it out of the Records Room and the station altogether without being spotted again. Tabitha awaits her, a gleaming beacon of safety in the dismal rain. Once inside her car, she doesn't waste time peeling out of the street and racing out of sight.

* * *

If only she'd thought to open the M-S drawer. If only she'd had more time to investigate. Perhaps she would've seen the Styles, Har. file-perhaps some of her most burning questions would finally be given answers.

hey friends! hope you liked this update. i've made some instagram edits to accompany this (as well as a couple of the previous chapters) so be sure to follow me on there if you aren't already! or not, its up to you :) my handle is oceanlyfefanfic

how've you been? what's something good that happened this week?

what do you think boo will find in the files? where will her investigation go next?