"Well, don't you two look like shit," Sergeant Claiborne announced as I walked in, Sarah falling through the doorway behind me.

Ignoring his comment, I got straight to the point. "Sergeant," I began, "I'd like to request an unmarked car to stakeout Gladys Cramer's house. Just in case she goes home tonight."

His immediate "No," without even glancing up from his papers, caught me off guard. My frustration, simmering just below the surface from the day's events, began to boil over.

"No?" I echoed, my voice betraying my irritation.

"That's right. No," he repeated, still engrossed in his paperwork.

"But why the hell not?" I demanded, my voice raising in volume. The rejection felt like a slap in the face after everything we had been through.

"Karl," Sergeant Claiborne finally looked up at us, his expression stern. "We already have other patrols scheduled to pass by her house regularly. If she returns home, we'll catch her and bring her in for questioning."

The rational part of my brain understood his logic, but the rest of me was too caught up in the moment, too invested in the chase. "For fuck's sake!" I exploded, storming out of his office.

Sarah hurried after me as I made my way to the carpark. "Karl, wait! Where are you going?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"To find Gladys," I replied curtly. My mind was made up; I couldn't just sit back and wait.

"Karl. Don't," she cautioned. "The Sergeant denied the request. You can't."

Her warning fell on deaf ears. "I don't really care what the Sergeant said," I snapped back, the day's pent-up frustration finally erupting. I got into the car and slammed the door, my breathing heavy, my mind a whirlwind of emotion and confusion. What the fuck is wrong with me? I silently questioned myself, my thoughts spiralling. Hearing voices, seeing things, jumping at shadows... "I must be losing my fucking mind," I muttered to myself, the words bitter and filled with self-reproach.

Suddenly, Sarah was there beside me, startling me as she jumped into the passenger seat. "I'm coming with you," she declared firmly.

Her determination, her refusal to leave me to face this alone, was both surprising and grounding. In that moment, I realised how much I relied on her, not just as a partner in the field, but as a grounding force in the midst of chaos. Her presence was a reminder that, no matter how deep into the rabbit hole I felt I was falling, I wasn't alone.

In a moment that blurred the lines between gratitude and frustration, I found myself acting on an impulse I didn't fully understand. I leaned over and kissed Sarah firmly on the lips. To my surprise, she kissed me back. It was a brief, intense moment that felt like a small reprieve from the chaos of our day. I pulled away, the silence between us heavy with unspoken thoughts, and started the ignition. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah smiling, a subtle gesture that offered a fleeting sense of peace. Maybe she will forgive me, I thought, a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

We drove in silence, the atmosphere in the car charged with the intensity of our shared experiences. As we headed down the Brooker towards Gladys' house, my mind was a whirlwind. Images of Sarah, Gladys, and Beatrix flickered through my thoughts, each evoking different emotions, different connections. The boundaries between reality and my thoughts blurred as their smiling, laughing faces haunted my mind. I closed my eyes for a split second, trying to clear the overwhelming rush of images.

"Shit Karl!" Sarah's voice cut through my reverie, sharp with alarm. I had drifted into the left lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle. Reacting instinctively, I jerked the wheel back, regaining control of our lane. My head throbbed with a growing ache, the mental images continuing their relentless parade across my consciousness.

The tensions pulsing from my head began to spread throughout my body. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, when the first pulse of tension reached my groin and ran along my dick.

Sarah's voice brought me back to the present. "Where are we going?" she asked, her tone a mixture of concern and confusion as I unexpectedly exited the highway

I couldn't bring myself to answer her. I was acting on an instinct I didn't fully understand, driving us towards the Entertainment Centre, which lay in darkness. There would be no events tonight, I thought to myself. At least not any that would be watched. Pulling into the empty, dimly lit parking lot, I chose a spot at the far end, away from any potential prying eyes.

"What are you doing?" Sarah's voice was laced with confusion and a hint of panic as she faced me, her youthful brow creased with worry.

In a moment of misguided impulse, I leaned in to kiss her again. But my movement was abruptly halted by the seatbelt, which jammed and tightened, stopping me mere inches from her face. Frustrated, I tugged at the belt, but it only seemed to constrict further. "Ah shit," I muttered, my teeth clenched in irritation.

Sarah's gaze was intense, her eyes searching mine. Without warning, she pushed me back against the seat with surprising force. The seatbelt snapped back, tightening its grip, effectively pinning me to my seat.

Confusion and shock washed over me. Had I misread the situation so completely? I thought there was something between us, a connection that went beyond partnership. My body reacted to her nearness, but the choke in my throat stifled any words of apology I might have uttered.

As I heard the click of Sarah's seatbelt unfastening, I made a futile attempt to lean forward, hindered by my own seatbelt. Desperately, I reached out to stop her from leaving, but she pushed me back once more. Tears welled in my eyes, one escaping down my cheek, a physical manifestation of my internal turmoil.

Sarah faced me, shoving her hands into my chest. I saw the raging wildfire in her eyes. Unexpectedly, she pressed her lips against mine. Feeling her tongue run the length of my rough lips, I opened my mouth and allowed her tongue to find mine.

I couldn't believe the passion I was feeling. Is this love? As we kissed, I reached out my left hand and held her firmly behind her neck, drawing her in closer to my body.

With surprising force, Sarah's hands ripped open my still-damp shirt, sending several buttons scattering around us, her hands cool against my warm chest. Moving her hand along my inner thigh, Sarah rubbed with the tips of her fingers, several times, before making her way further along to find the centre of my passion.

I gripped her waist, sliding my hands under her shirt and gradually up her smooth, toned stomach. Sarah's breasts rested comfortably in my large hands as I massaged them gently, causing moans of pleasure to escape Sarah's lips as we continued kissing.

As Sarah unbuckled my seatbelt my cock pulsed with such energised force I thought it would burst. Unzipping my trousers, I moaned as she took me in her mouth, her cool hands, soft against my firm dick, sending pulses of electrifying intensity with every movement she made.

She came up to kiss me again, with an intensity I had never experienced before. I pulled her trousers down to her ankles and steadied her clumsily as she climbed onto my lap.

Sliding my seat back as far as it would go, it stopped with a harsh thud. The car rocked to the rhythm of our energetic lovemaking.

Sarah fell back into her own seat, exhausted. "Still want to go and see Gladys?" she asked with a wide, cheeky smile.

"No," I replied bluntly, my eyes closed as I contemplated our next move. The unresolved questions about Gladys were frustrating, but another idea was taking shape in my mind. "I think it's time to pay Beatrix a visit."

"Beatrix?" Sarah echoed in surprise. "Who the fuck is Beatrix?"

"Beatrix Cramer. Gladys' sister," I explained, feigning a nonchalance I didn't feel. "I've done my homework," I lied. The truth was, I didn't need to look up Beatrix in any database. My past encounters with her were etched deeply in my memory.

"What, right now?" Sarah's expression was a mix of confusion and incredulity.

"Yes," I said firmly, reaching into the back seat for a small duffel bag. I pulled out a fresh grey t-shirt and quickly changed. "And I need to go alone."

Sarah sat motionless, her eyes wide with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Ignoring her gaze, I stretched across her, struggling to reach the door handle. My attempt to open her door was only partially successful. It opened slightly before swinging shut again, but my message was clear.

Sarah collected her belongings, her movements sharp and decisive. She opened the door and stepped out into the night. "You can be such a prick sometimes Karl," she said, her voice harsh with emotion before slamming the door.

I sat there for a moment, trying to make sense of my own actions. Am I making the right decision? The unease in my gut said otherwise, but I couldn't turn back now. I watched in the rearview mirror as Sarah dressed herself in the dark, the reflection tinged with regret. She'll be okay, I reassured myself. Her house is less than a ten-minute walk away.

With a heavy heart, I pulled out of the car park and turned onto the highway. The road stretched out before me, a path leading towards an uncertain encounter with Beatrix. My mind was a storm of thoughts and emotions, each as tumultuous as the weather we had already experienced. But there was no turning back now. I was committed to this course of action, for better or worse.

As I pulled up outside the Cramer residence, a wave of anxiety washed over me. The house was modest, unassuming, but it was charged with the weight of my past interactions with Beatrix’s family. The last time I had spoken to Brett and Wendy Cramer was during the investigation into the death of Beatrix's partner, an event that had driven a deep wedge between us. Their directive had been clear and unyielding: I was not welcome here. Two years of silence had passed, but would that be enough to soften their stance?

With trepidation, I approached the front door, my knocks almost timid. I had barely tapped the door, surprised when it actually swung open.

"Fuck off, Karl," Wendy snapped, her voice harsh and unwelcoming. She moved to close the door almost as soon as she had opened it.

"Wendy, wait!" I called out instinctively, my hand shooting out to stop the door just inches from closing on my face. I gently pushed against the door, but Wendy countered with a firm resistance.

"You don't get to call me Wendy," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness.

I felt a pang of regret, the memory of our last encounter and its unpleasant aftermath vivid in my mind. "Mrs Cramer, please. I need to speak with Beatrix," I pleaded, my voice desperate. "It's urgent."

There was a momentary pause, a slight easing of the pressure on the door. "She's not home," Wendy stated firmly.

But then, catching me off guard, Mrs Cramer gave the door a final, decisive shove. I stood there, a mixture of frustration and defeat washing over me as the door clicked shut in front of me. My lead, my hope of finding answers with Beatrix, seemed to evaporate with that closed door.

I took a moment, standing there on the Cramers' doorstep, collecting my thoughts. The day had been a series of dead ends and emotional turmoil. I felt drained, my mind reeling from the events and the many unanswered questions that lingered. What now? The question echoed in my mind as I turned away from the door, contemplating my next move. The investigation was far from over, but each step seemed to lead only to more complexity and uncertainty.

Returning home to Jargus was the one piece of normalcy in a day that had been anything but. His cheerful wag and excited greetings were a balm to the tumult of the day. "I'm sorry, Jargus," I said softly, crouching down to his level for a few slobbery, welcome kisses. "I haven't been around for you much lately, have I?" I asked, though I knew I wouldn't get an answer. His presence was a quiet reassurance, a reminder of simpler joys.

I headed straight for the shower, letting the hot water wash over me, rinsing away the day's sweat and stress. The water felt refreshing, a small oasis of calm in the storm of my thoughts. As the steam filled the room, the bathroom door creaked open. Instinctively, my eyes snapped open, and adrenaline surged through me, ready for whatever threat might be looming.

"Shit, Jargus!" I exclaimed with relief and a little laughter. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" There he was, sitting just outside the shower, a clean towel held in his mouth. His impatience for bedtime was both endearing and amusing.

With a renewed appreciation for Jargus's simple, unwavering companionship, I hastened through my nighttime routine. In bed, Jargus snuggled up against me, his warmth and presence a comforting anchor. Propped up with pillows, I attempted to do some last-minute research on my phone. My goal was to look up Killerton Enterprises, but the day’s exhaustion was overwhelming. My eyes blurred, struggling to focus on the screen. The search term "Killerton Ent—" was as far as I got before my eyelids grew heavy, and I slid down into the comfort of my king-size bed, surrendering to sleep.