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Thoughts of the prior morning’s run in with Max drift through my mind as I make my way to the cafe, but thankfully the drive thru is open today. Ordering my regular coffee and bagel, I glance around, half-expecting to see Max again, but he's nowhere in sight. Relief washes over me, and I try to focus on the task at hand: getting through the day without any unnecessary complications.
I almost feel like I'm tempting fate just thinking about it. But I thankfully manage to avoid everyone as I drive into the parking garage and even when I get to the elevator to take it up to our office.
Derek is already in the office when I arrive, leaning against the table and looking intently at the new board that we created together the night before. After all the revelations from my own board at home, it seems so strange to see this one knowing what I now know.
"Good morning," Derek greets me, snapping me out of my thoughts. His voice is tired, and I can see the exhaustion in his eyes. It seems like he's been working tirelessly on this case, just like me.
"Good morning," I reply, trying to sound as normal as possible. But my mind is still consumed by the dangerous game I'm playing and the secrets I can't yet share with Derek.
He glances at me, concern in his eyes. "You still look tired. Did you get enough sleep?"
"Yeah, just had a lot on my mind," I say with a forced smile, not wanting to worry him further.
Derek nods, seemingly accepting my explanation, but his eyes linger on me for a moment longer before he turns his attention back to the board. "There's something off about this case. It's like we're missing a crucial piece of the puzzle."
My heart sinks, knowing that I'm the one withholding that crucial piece of information. I want to tell him everything, to share the dark truth I've uncovered, but without concrete evidence, it could jeopardize not only the investigation, but our safety as well.
"Yeah, it's definitely complex," I reply carefully, trying to steer the conversation away from any sensitive areas.
Derek sighs, running a hand through his hair. "We need to find more leads. Anything that can help us understand their motives better."
"We'll keep digging," I promise, feeling the pressure of my own secrets pressing down on me.
Throughout the day, Derek and I work tirelessly on the case. But my mind is split between the task at hand and the truth that is buried underneath these victims. The desire to tell Derek everything, to share the burden with him, is almost overwhelming, but I resist, knowing that it's not the right time.
We exchange ideas, discussing different possibilities and reevaluating all the evidence we have. But even with our renewed efforts, we still can't seem to find the missing pieces that would connect all the dots from the information we have.
By evening, frustration starts to creep back in. It feels like we're running out of options. I know it's time to call Tristan for help, as much as I wish we could solve this on our own. The thought that I could use his friend, if he can access the missing pieces of the puzzle that were deleted, gnaws at my subconscious.
"Derek, I think it's time we bring in Tristan," I say, looking at him earnestly. "He might be able to offer a fresh perspective and help us see things from a different angle."
Derek hesitates for a moment, clearly torn between his reservations and the need for progress. Finally, he nods, "Alright, give him a call. But let's be cautious and only share what's absolutely necessary."
"I will," I assure him, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation about involving Tristan in our dangerous investigation. I pull out my phone and dial the number Tristan gave me at the cafe the day before.
It rings a few times before he answers, “Tristan Winters.”
“Hey Tristan, it’s Alex.”
"Well, well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" his voice is full of warmth and humor.
I can't help but chuckle at Tristan's tone. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"Of course not," he replies. "Just lurking in the shadows with nothing better to do like Agent Derek said." I can practically hear the grin in his voice.
I smile, appreciating the levity in the midst of our serious situation. "Well, I was wondering if you're still up for helping us out with the case."
"Anything for you." Tristan responds. "Agent Derek actually letting me assist? I must be dreaming. I never thought the day would come."
I chuckle softly, knowing how much Derek hates journalists. "Yeah, well, I guess we're willing to try anything at this point. We've hit a dead end, and I think your fresh perspective might just be what we need."
"Hey, I'm flattered," Tristan says, sounding genuinely pleased. "I'll do my best to assist you guys in any way I can. Just let me know when and where you want to meet."
"It’s starting to get late," I reply. "Why don't we all get together for a coffee in the morning? We'll fill you in on what we've got so far."
"That sounds perfect," Tristan agrees. "I'll be there bright and early, or as early as I can manage for a journalist, at least."
I chuckle, "Early for you means before midday, right?"
