DANE

The lights were flickering in my office. It has been flickering like this for weeks, maybe months. I don't know when to tell Steele that it's driving me insane. I tapped my feet on the ground, the same pace the lights were flickering. My head was resting on my hand, while the other was occupied spinning around the red pen between my two fingers. I noticed a pattern.
"11:19, 11:19, 11:19, 11:19 11:19-"
Keller turned around. She flicked her dirty blonde her out of her face and put her hands on her hips. "Can you just shut up for a second!" She grunted.
"What can I say; it's my way of thinking." I shrugged. "Besides you're doing nothing"
She ignored me, and pinned a note onto the wall.
Okay back to thinking. He mentioned killing Dauntridge at 11:19. I jumped out of my seat and walked to Lieutenant's, slamming the door behind me.
"Lieutenant. At what time did Osman crash?"
"Actually. . . I don't know! I'll check the cameras"
Steele opened her laptop and reviewed the tape. The time and date was displayed at the bottom of the screen, black digital letters on a grey rectangle. She squinted her eyes. "10:19"
"Okay thank you!"
Exactly what I needed. 11:19, 10:19, this means the next accident will happen at 9:19. Then 8:19, so on and so forth. I ran back into the room, slamming the door open once again, startling Keller.
"Jesus Walton. You couldn't be any less gentle with that poor old door." A hint of her British accent slipping through.
She couldn't tell how excited I was, being one step closer to this. I've figured out the pattern of the timing for the killings, but next is how they're getting killed. The funeral invitation never mentioned how he got killed. Just an "accident". It's time to use my trusty laptop for some trusty research.
I flipped the screen open, and Keller, obviously was shooting me the stares. To be honest, I could never tell if she deeply hated me, or was deeply in love with me. Sometimes she would stare at me like she wanted to drag me down to her basement and torture me until I die a slow death; or she would stare at me like she wanted to bring me upstairs to her room instead and- okay I shouldn't continue. But right now, she's staring at me like the second option.
"Can I pluck your eyebrows?" She asked.
"Excuse me?" I chuckled, while I typed "Arthur Dauntridge death" on my search tab.
"Mhm. You have perfect eyebrows to pluck; sorry- can't stop staring."
"Thanks, I guess. But leave me and my eyebrows alone." I always knew since I was a kid, I had thick eyebrows, that I obviously inherited from my dad. But I never thought in my life somebody would stare at my eyebrows and ask if they wanted to pluck them.
She chuckled. "I just had to get that temptation off my chest. But can I pluck your eyebrows though?"
"Yes!" I said. But I was paying zero attention to her. I found some information on Arthur's mysterious death.
"Really!?" She said.
"No, Jazz, you can't pluck my eyebrows." I sighed.
She let out a disappointed groan, "whatever."
I scrolled through the article I found on the Mayors death. '...after a full autopsy scan, the reason for his untimely death was reportedly overdosing after a forced intake of syringe drugs into the neck...'
"Yes yes yes! Fuck yes!" I said, "sorry."
She rolled her eyes. "shush!"
You could even hear Steele from the other room screaming "language" at me.
But I can finally connect the dots. Both Yusef and Arthur, for one, got drugged at the neck, both got killed on the time pattern, that Russo is following. The last thing to figure out is, who is Russo? Who does he have connections with? Did Russo have personal issues with Dauntridge and Osman? Why specifically them, on such short time span? How does he cover his tracks so accurately?
Those are questions we are anticipating to answer.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Today was Monday. Technically, I could visit Natasha at her flower shop. Personally myself, I'm curious if Clara and her bonded again, after unfortunately, both going through Ian. Currently Ian is at his quiet house. Every trace of both of them are gone, and he's living off coffee and pizza, because he doesn't get out of bed, and trust me, you will not be able to tell the difference between Ian and a panda. When I tell you his circadian rhythm is fucked? Oh it's fucked. It's exactly what he deserves when he ruins Natasha's mascara every night. And that kiss with Natasha? I cannot stop thinking about it; about her. I feel blood rush into places it shouldn't. But no, I'm on the road. I should focus. Maybe I should visit Ian. He doesn't seem to be doing great. Maybe he did "love" Natasha. But who knows.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

I knocked on Ian's door. Let's just say it took him a good few minutes to come downstairs. When he opened the door, his eyelashes were wet and his eyes were red.
"Don't tell me you were crying over shit you created." I said.
"Dane? Didn't you fucking hear the news?"
"No?-" Ian pulled me into the house and sat me on the very same couch I opened my Djungelskog on; my sweet baby Djungelskog.
Ian was taking deep breaths in and out. "Fuck, it's irritating me how you're acting like nothing major just happened in our lives."
"I'm sorry what? Ian I don't know what's going on!"
"Our parents went missing! We're talking about our parents Dane? Not to mention- so did Natasha and Clara!"
"Our parents went missing- Natasha went missing?!"
He sighed. "Yes!"
They're gone. She's gone. Fuck. Russo got them. I'm telling you. That's not a coincidence. Russo is trying to tease me. Fucking Russo. I'm going to find out who you are.
"You're lying aren't you, like the casual liar you always are."
"I'm not lying-"
"No one mentioned a single thing to me! The one day I don't watch the fucking news!"
"They all pity you Dane. Our parents are missing. No one is gonna mention it to your fucking face."
9:19 9:19 9:19 9:19 9:19. They died at 9:19. Or, they are bound to die; I'm keeping some hope. Russo. This is all Russo. I hope you die a sad life.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Ian and I were sitting in his living room. Silent; no words at all coming from any of our mouths.
"You don't hate me, do you Dane?"
"Our parents went missing, Natasha and Clara went missing, and this is all you say? Really Ian. God I hate you; always making shit revolve around you."
Ian sulked and slumped back. "Leave."
"Happily."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

I opened my door and all I felt was utter emptiness. Empty as in I felt like my insides got sucked out by a vacuum cleaner. Weird analogy; but that's exactly how I feel. She's gone. Their gone.
I didn't necessarily have a great connection with my parents, but they were still the very same people who gave me a roof, food, and clothes. But Natasha; I barely knew her for a month living in the same home, and we got close over my brother's stupidity. Since I live off black coffee and toast, it was time to make my daily brew. But then I saw the note with the diamond symbol on it. A different one.
I had three notes in total. I picked up the note that was slid under my coffee machine, and read it.
'Hey. Don't worry, your parents, Natasha and Natasha's parents, and of course sweet Clara, are not dead. But you won't be able to find them. Or me at least! But Dane, really, look out your windows sometimes. You might catch a glimpse of me someday. See you, Marchetti.' Russo.
The last sentence sent shivers down my spine. "See you, Marchetti." Russo is planning to find me. But why does he refer to me as Marchetti? Natasha's parents are missing too. This is more serious than I anticipated. I'm taking this into my own hands. I'm not going to report to Steele. No matter how risky this is.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

It was getting dark, and I opened the door to our office. Jazz was scribbling in her notebook.
"Jasmine, I know this is horrible timing, but I need your help."
Jazz turned around from the office chair situated in the middle of the room. Her hair was put into a messy bun, and the lights were dim. "You? Need my help" she snorted, "you've gotta be kidding right?"
"I'm being serious. Like detective coat serious"
"What for?"
"I'm going to kill someone."
Jazz stayed silent for a few seconds. "That was a joke- right?"
"Partly. I'll kill them if really I need to."
"I need some serious context Dane."
I sighed. I didn't want to show her the notes from him but I had to.
"Read these. The first one was the car accident, the second one was Arthur's death, and Osman's explanation, and the third one is- it's"
"Sh. I know." She said, while holding the first note up, and examining it carefully.

By the time she finished reading all three, she looked over to me; whom was turning the hourglass over and over again.
"I get it Dane. I'm in." She chuckled, "but if we're getting caught? Don't blame it on me."
"If we get caught; which I highly doubt will happen because we'll perfect it; I promise, I'll take the fall." I chuckled.
"Then what are we waiting for?"
I put a finger in front of my mouth. "Shh. I think Steele is coming back."
We waited for Steele to walk past and ignore our office. "Let's scramble before she starts asking questions."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

"Dane do you even know what you're doing? You don't have a plan."
"Hear me out. There's a good chance that this Russo guy may be in Natasha's house, because he took out the girls parents too. They could all be in there-"
"You don't know that Dane" Jazz said.
"Where do you think he would be?"
"Think about it; where did he find a place to drug Yusef, and then tell him his wife was pregnant? Couldn't have been Osman's house because the wife would be there. This guy obviously has a place that no one knows of."
"You're right. They've gone missing. They're definitely not in the home."
"That proves I'm the better detective!"
"This has nothing to do with that!" I snarled, "do you have any conclusions on where this guy could be?"
"Okay. . . Working with what we have, Russo's first note is irrelevant; it was to get your attention for the case. What drug does Russo usually use to-"
"Xylazine. I know that. The toxicologists told me themselves."
"Xylazine. . . If we go to a pharmacy that sells Xylazine, maybe we can figure out the full name of this guy from the purchase history."
"Great start! Oh, from these notes it seems that Russo clearly is around here a lot; I'm assuming, so it should be one of the closest pharmacies."

We drove to the local pharmacy in Dauntridge. The lights were still on, and a guy with heavy stubble, balding at the top, and thick framed glasses stood behind the counter.
"Prescription?" He said, his voice low, tired and dead.
As I was about to speak, Jazz took over.
"Uh hi-" She looked down at his name tag, "Harold- do you have the purchase history on this lovely computer screen of yours?" She said, staring me down. Clearly Jazz didn't want me to speak. She wanted me as silent as possible.
"Unfortunately, that type of information is confidential-"
"Detective Keller and Detective Walton." She said, with a stingy face, that soon turned into a pleasant smile. "We're here to see the purchase history for Xylazine."
"Sorry, really. It's confidential-"
Jazz slammed her hand on the counter. "Show us the purchase history now."
"No I-"
"NOW." She yelled, "sorry, Harold."
Harold typed on the keyboard frantically.
"History for Xylazine purchase? You want the name?"
"Yes. Please. Now." Keller said.
"Yusef Osman. . . purchased 9 times." He said.
"Thanks. That's all we needed."

Russo was hiding behind Yusef's name. There were only 8 people that Russo drugged. There was one more he was planning to drug.
"We couldn't figure out his name after all of that" Jazz rolled her eyes.
"We know that he's using Yusef's name in the purchases."
"No. Those purchases were clearly made before Yusef died. If he used that card after he died- well that wouldn't be smart would it." She sighed, "Russo already planned everything out; very strategically. He already knew his victims. We might just be fueling a part of his plan-"
"Or we could be ruining it, Jazz. We can't just take our chances. I need to find him."
"Whatever you say Dane." Jazz stopped in her tracks. "Dane. . ."
"What-"
The tires of my car were slashed. All of them. All flat. There was no way we could drive in the car now, and getting a tow truck and new tires would just slow us down by another day or two. We had to walk. But who could've done this? Could it have been Russo? Who knew we were getting close to uncovering who he is? Or could it be someone else we don't know yet?

Jazz and I were waking on the pathway.
"Do you think we should just- bail?" She said.
"No. I mean, by all means you can step out. But I'm not giving up."
"If you aren't giving up, I'm not either. But do you have any idea where you're going?
From the scene of the car crash, we followed the path straight down. We don't know how long he had been driving for, but we had to get somewhere eventually.
"You know Jazz. Maybe you should go home, take some rest. Thanks for the help you gave me."
"No Dane I want to help you uncover this asshole."
"It's dangerous. Go home."
"Fine. Bye." She said, while walking away, "and let me pluck your eyebrows someday!"
I scoffed. Jazz still wasn't over my eyebrows. But now that this mission is solely mine, I immediately regretted it. Now that Jazz was gone, I was cold, alone, and walking the path of Saltlake road. Great. Maybe I shouldn't have done that.
Every step I took, I swear I heard doubles. Without Keller's presence; I didn't feel safe anymore. I turned around. There was no one. Maybe I have schizophrenia. Footsteps? I keep hearing them. They're not mine. They're coming from behind me. I turned around again;

Nothing.

I couldn't tell if I was going crazy at this point. Maybe I am going crazy. I'm going to bail. Sorry future Dane, I'm quitting the hunt for Russo. You win, douchebag. Without my car, it's going to take a while to walk back home. It should be okay.
I held the two ends of my jacket tighter, to try and suppress the warmth into me. As the night grew darker and darker, it began getting colder and colder. My lips started to chap, and the sounds of insects; especially crickets grew louder and louder. I was going insane. I had to get back home as soon as possible. But I couldn't. I could practically feel the tip of my nose freeze. I would call an Uber, but that requires me to stay still for a while. That's not happening. I'm close to home. I'll just turn on the heaters and it'll be all toasty and cozy. I sped up the pace of my footsteps, because I can see my house. Yes! My home is close. Just a few blocks away.

I'm here.

I turned twisted the doorknob. That's weird. I locked it. I may have forgotten though; who knows. But when I swung the door open fully, my whole body melted in the warmth. It was quite cozy, obviously; compared to outside. But I still don't know who Russo is, and all of that may have been for nothing. It was a great time killer though.
I made some coffee through my coffee machine, and waiting for it to brew. Once it was done, I took the burning cup into my hands and put it on my bench top. I waited for it to cool down before I could drink it, but I felt a sharp stinging sensation on my neck.

My neck. I turned around maybe; just maybe to see his face, but all I saw was blur, then pure darkness.

I was Russo's last victim.