"Max's body is still here?" Nathan asked, surprised when he returned to Natasha's house where Michael was waiting for him with a crime scene investigator and other officers.

"The CSI and forensic pathologist were still gathering as much evidence as they can before the body is moved," Michael replied, putting on a protective white suit that was handed to him at the door before going upstairs with Nathan right behind him, also suited up.

"So his family hasn't been told?" Nathan asked. "If the news gets to them before we tell them..."

"I was containing the situation," Michael cut in. "One of the neighbors, the lady who called in the noise disturbance, was getting too nosy so I just told her there was a robbery. I asked the officers who did the door-to-door to tell everyone the same."

"Is that why you were outside?" Nathan asked.

"Well, that and Lydia's in there too and I think she has her scalpel," Michael replied, stopping outside Natasha's door.

Nathan stifled a laugh. "I can assure you, she doesn't walk around with sharp objects in her pocket. She has a six year old son for goodness sake."

"Not taking that chance," Michael said, gesturing for Nathan to enter the room before him. A wave of nostalgia hit him as his eyes swept over the room, remembering the last time he was in it. His eyes landed on Max, lying pale and eyes shut on Natasha's bed; the area around him painted red by his blood. He was glad that Natasha hadn't seen the horrid sight. Even though she had bad history with Max, seeing him like this would have been traumatic. 

"Hello Detectives," a middle aged male with a full head of blonde hair greeted them, tearing Nathan from his thoughts.

"Hi Luke. Lydia," Nathan said nodding at them in acknowledgement. "Michael said you have something to show us?"

"Okay," Luke said, getting down to business. "I noticed something from the last two Bandieer murders and this third one just confirms my suspicions. At the Henry Bandieer crime scene, the CCTV cameras in and around the house were all turned off but we didn't get very far with that because the staff and family members said Henry usually had them turned off whenever he brought over some lady friends. At Macmillan's office where he was killed, he asked for the cameras to be turned off himself and we still haven't figured out why."

"We thought whoever killed him asked him to do that before she arrived on the scene," Nathan interjected.

"True but nothing in his phone records corroborates that," Luke went on. "Here, the Evans have a camera on the porch and in the main rooms, like the lounge and what we assume to be the judge's home office, and all of those were switched off."

"So whoever killed Max is someone familiar with the home's security system since they turned it off themselves," Michael concluded.

Luke nodded. "Not only that; in all three cases, it seems the victims were familiar with the killer." He looked to Lydia and she stepped forward to explain.

"The other two victims had no defensive wounds on their bodies which means no struggle ensued before the kills. Henry was shot twice; first bullet went into his arm and the second right into his heart. Mac was stabbed in the chest. Considering that preliminary investigations indicate the killer may be a young woman and Mac was a full grown male, the only way she could have gotten an advantage over Mac without any kind of struggle was if Mac was sitting down at the time and didn't see the knife coming, which indicates this was someone he was comfortable with being in the same room with. Switching off the surveillance cameras and dismissing everyone could indicate that the person was someone Mac didn't want anyone knowing he'd met with and he obviously thought she posed no danger to him. Another thing," Lydia said, pausing as she gathered her thoughts. "This is someone familiar with human anatomy because executing a kill shot is rare. The fact that she knew to stab Mac at a point where he would be defenseless, bleed out quickly and die; as with Max and his gunshot wound brings me to that conclusion."

Nathan and Michael took all this in silently and Lydia gave them a few minutes before she continued, now looking at Max.

"Max here, also doesn't have any defensive wounds on his body..."

"But we saw signs of a struggle in the lounge," Michael interrupted.

"Either there was a third person who struggled with the killer or the killer was looking for something and turned the place upside down," Luke replied. "And I'm fairly certain it's the latter."

"He'll explain that to you when I'm done. I'd like to finish here and take this poor boy's body away from here," Lydia said pointedly. Michael apologized and she continued. "Like I said, no defensive wounds on Max, so the shot also came as a surprise to him. From the blood splatter, Luke and I concluded that he was standing by the foot of the bed when he was shot, causing him to fall back onto the bed, where he eventually bled out and died. We found two bullet shells over by the dressing table, which must be where the shots were fired from but there's only one entry point on Max's body, so either the other bullet hit something or someone else or the killer has a good enough aim to have shot the exact same point on Max's body, twice. There is no other blood to indicate that someone else was shot and so far the bullet hasn't been found lodged into any surface of this room. I will only be able to tell you if the last assumption is correct once I perform a full autopsy on Max."

"Thank you Lydia," Nathan said and the woman nodded, beckoning over two men standing at the door with a stretcher and a body bag. Nathan, Michael and Luke went downstairs, leaving the men to carry Max away.

"Take a moment to look around and tell me what you see or don't see," Luke said, standing at one end of the lounge. Nathan and Michael did as he asked. One of the couches sat askew, obviously having been pushed out of position and all the cushions were on the floor. A bunch of ripped up envelopes lay scattered on the floor along with what looked like letters, some crumpled, others straight. The carpet was turned up in one corner showing a layer of dust on the wooden floor. They were looking over the room for the second time, still trying to figure out what they could be missing when something caught Nathan's eye.

"Nothing's broken," he announced, even as his eyes swept through the room again to confirm this.

"Exactly!" Luke said excitedly. "There's so much glass in this room alone, it would be statistically impossible not to break at least one of the glass objects during a struggle. However, if you were looking for something, you would instinctively be careful around glass."

Michael still looked doubtful so Luke beckoned them over to the corner of the carpet that was turned up.

"Notice the neat lines of dust here on the floor where the carpet was covering?" he asked Michael, crouching down to point at the spot. Michael crouched down next to him and nodded.

"If this was a struggle, these lines would be broken from people shuffling over them as they presumably upturned the carpet, but they're not. The only way these are not broken is that someone lifted the corner of the carpet to check for something and then didn't get a chance to put it back before moving on," Luke explained.

"What do you suppose was being looked for?" Michael asked.

"My guess would be some kind of document, considering the ripped up envelopes," Luke replied, gesturing to the mess under the table.

"If it was Judge Evans, what document could she have been looking for?" Nathan asked, mulling it over.

"Judge Evans is a suspect?" Luke asked wide-eyed, making Nathan regret opening his mouth.

"We're not sure, so keep this to yourself," he urged him.

Luke nodded and excused himself to go back upstairs. Nathan and Michael moved out of the way of the crime scene photographer and headed for the door.

"Something's bothering me about this," Michael said as they stripped off the crime scene overalls. "What was Max even doing here?"

"My first thought was that he got Natasha's message and came to look for her and he ran into the killer instead," Nathan replied, going out onto the porch.

"Okay," Michael said slowly. "But how did he end up in her bedroom. If it was Judge Evans, I could accept that she could have lured him into thinking Natasha was upstairs then switched on the radio, followed him upstairs and shot him."

"That would explain the cameras being off," Nathan agreed. "We need to figure out where Max came from. Maybe the Chief and Margaret are hiding there."

"It can't be far if he managed to walk here," Michael replied. "There's no other car in the drive way besides Natasha's and I don't think he would risk taking a cab."

"If he walked, maybe we can retrace his footsteps," Nathan said getting excited.

"How?"

"We get a K-9 to sniff out his trail," Nathan replied, taking his phone out of his pocket and dial ling excitedly.

"That's a good idea but won't the scent be lost by the time we get a K-9 here from the capital," Michael said, skeptically.

"It's worth a shot," Nathan said, making a call. A few minutes later, he hung up looking optimistic. "They're sending one over and I told them it's urgent, so they're coming in a copter and they'll be here in less than an hour."

Michael's phone rang and he answered it while Nathan checked his messages.

"The Bandieers have been told of Max's death. They're going to the station to do a formal identification," Michael said when he'd ended the call.

"Who's doing the identification?"

"With Margaret missing, Tracy is the eldest surviving Bandieer in town. Everyone else is either dead or living outside Pinehive," Michael replied.

"Poor woman. First her husband, now her brother-in-law only days apart," Nathan said. His phone buzzing in his hand as a message came in caught his attention and he opened it right away when he saw that it was from Natasha.

I'm settled in at my uncle's now. He's a bit miffed about the cops outside his house though. Good night. Thank you for everything.

Nathan smiled in spite of himself and started to text her back. Before he could send the message, a call came in from someone he'd been trying to avoid.

"Hello Kimberly," he said, deciding to get it over with.

"Finally! I've been trying to call you for hours," she said.

"What do you want?"

"I was at the Evans house earlier and they dismissed us without making an actual statement about what happened. I just got a tip off that a body was carried out of there. Who was it?" she replied.

"No comment," Nathan said pinching his forehead.

"Seriously? After everything I've done for you?"

Nathan tuned her out as Michael signaled to him that he had urgent news. He gave a hasty goodbye to Kimberly and hung up, ignoring her protests.

"The station just called. Tracy Bandieer is hysterical. You go and work your magic on her. I'll stay here with the CSI and wait for the K-9 unit," Michael said.

Nathan left right away and found Tracy yelling at the police man manning the front desk. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her and addressed her as calmly as he could. It took a lot of convincing for her to finally calm down and agree to speak to him in private. He took her to his office after leaving instructions at the front desk to have some officers waiting for the helicopter to accompany them to Natasha's house, along with a piece of clothing from Max's attire.

He shared as much as he could and refrained from making promises of arrests but told her they had better leads from the current crime scene. Kimberly kept calling him while they were talking, reminding him that he couldn't put off the inevitable.

"Mrs Bandieer..." he began.

"Tracy," she cut in.

"Sorry, Tracy. We'll need to announce Max's death soon. The reporters are sniffing around already and I would rather we control the narrative before they get their hands on it," he said.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"If the reporters catch wind of this, the story will just be about another dead body which will send panic through the city. But if you talk about it as someone who has lost three family members and ask anyone with information to come forward, the message will stick in everyone's mind and I have high hopes that anyone who saw something will come forward," Nathan explained.

"I just buried my husband earlier today and with Margaret missing, I'm suddenly matriarch of the family. I don't think I can do this right now," Tracy said, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes.

Nathan fought his frustration and spoke in the most patient tone he could muster. "I understand that this is a difficult time, but the more time that passes, the further the culprit gets away. I can hold the press off for a couple of hours but after that it will be difficult to keep Max's death contained. Would you be willing to consider making a statement to the press tomorrow morning? I need the announcement to go hand in hand with your statement,"

"Okay," Tracy said, already standing up. After agreeing on a time, he thanked her and she left, leaving him to make a call he was dreading.

"I don't appreciate you hanging up on me," Kimberly snapped when she answered.

"I'm sorry, I had something urgent to attend to," he said, checking the watch on his wrist. It was almost 11 p.m. The helicopter should have landed already.

"Are you finally going to give me something to report?"

"I thought we had a conversation about you and your unorthodox sourcing of information from law enforcement personnel," he said sternly, leaving his office and heading back to reception.

"So this relationship only works when you want it to?" Kimberly bristled.

Nathan sighed, impatiently. "Can you be at the station tomorrow at 7.00 a.m. with a news crew? I'll explain everything then. For tonight, please hold off on making any reports or there will be consequences."

"Fine," Kimberly huffed, hanging up right after.

***

Nathan drove back to Natasha's house which was now a hive of activity. The neighbors were steering clear of the yard, but they still watched from a distance. The occasional flash from a camera cut through the night, lighting up the area briefly. He went and spoke to the officers standing on the porch and they told him two K-9 teams were in the house, accompanied by Michael. They came down a few minutes later, two German Shepherds in the lead, with their responsible officers holding tight to their leashes and Michael introduced the two men as Officers  Peter Crane and Loyd Thompson. They took off down the street and Nathan and Michael drove after them in Nathan's car.

For a while the dogs led them down the main street but they suddenly took a sharp turn down a narrow alleyway. Nathan and Michael ditched their car and followed quickly on foot. They turned up another side street leading into town and weaved through more alleys and side streets. Anticipation thickened in the air as they approached a building set close to the middle of town and the dogs picked up their pace.

"Are they going where I think they're going?" Michael said, as they started jogging to keep up.

"Yep," Nathan said, looking up at the tall building labelled H.B Media. "I thought this was still a crime scene after Mac's death?"

"Margaret Bandieer threw her lawyers at us and said we can close off the floor where Mac's office was but not the rest of the building," Michael replied, rolling his eyes.

The dogs didn't go up to the front entrance of the building as they had expected but went down one side, to the back where there was an underground parking lot.  It was empty and bare and hardly seemed like it was used much. The stone wall still looked fresh, even by the dim light coming in from the street light outside, but other than that, there was nothing remarkable about the place. Michael felt around and found a light switch near the open entrance. The dogs were already inside, barking at the wall on the left side of the parking lot.

"What's happening?" Nathan asked when they reached the two officers.

"The trail led here and it seems it continues on the other side of this wall but I don't see any entrance point," Loyd - a tall, dark man with dimpled cheeks and short, neatly cut hair said, looking closely at the wall.

"Could it be a dead end?" Michael asked. "Maybe Max did come here before going to the house but that's all. No other clues."

As he spoke, one of the dogs stood on its hind legs and scratched at the wall, barking more. One of the stones came loose and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Down, Baxter!" Peter commanded. The dog obeyed and sat and his handler went forward to look at the damage.

"You guys need to see this," he said, stepping back for Nathan and Michael to look. Where they'd expected to see a hole was a large, black button instead.

"Do any of you have gloves?" Michael asked, excitement barely contained at the possibilities of what they had just found. All they had was tissue, so he wrapped some around his finger and pushed the button. With a low hiss, the wall swung inwards, revealing a staircase.

"What the..." Michael began, but his sentence was left incomplete as Baxter darted forward, bounding down the stairs. They followed him treading carefully, using the flashlights on their phone to navigate through the darkness until the stairs led them to a large open space.

In one corner, where Baxter and his fellow canine were sniffing, a mattress was placed on the floor with blankets messily laid on it and a pillow tangled up in some sheets. A note pad was on the floor next to the mattress and a bunch of crumpled up papers lay scattered near it. An assortment of snacks was in another corner, along with two small backpacks and most of the room was covered in candy wrappers and water bottles. Nathan picked up one of the crumpled up papers as the handlers called the dogs off the mattress. A few words were scribbled on it in black ink, then crossed out like the person hadn't liked what they'd written. He could still make out the words though.

I don't really know what to say. Sorry will hardly change anything but it's all I can think of. I never meant for it to go so far. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you. I know all you wanted to do was love me and I'm sorry I gave in to the demons that stopped me from loving you the way you deserved, Natasha. I'm going away, somewhere far away and the least I can do is leave you with the truth. I'm too much of a coward to face you and I can't risk calling or texting you in case the police are tracking me, so this will have...

"Michael," Nathan said, heart racing as he picked up another crumpled piece of paper, hoping it would have more information than the first one; all thoughts of preserving the crime scene, pushed to the back of his mind. "Call this in."

***

I got the chance to be around some police dogs once, a while back. They were German Shepherds. It was both terrifying and thrilling at the same time lol and they inspired this chapter.

By the time I had finished writing everything that was supposed to be in this chapter I was at 6000 words and that's like SIX times more words than I'm comfortable subjecting you to at a time lol. 

I tried to edit it down (hence the late post) but too many vital points were getting cut out so I've made peace with splitting the chapter into two. I'm so ready for this to be over! 

Next update on Friday.