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**What's Next**
**Chapter 4**
Monday morning arrived with its usual hustle and bustle. The station was already alive with activity as I walked through the door, feeling a sense of relief that my paperwork was done. The weekend's efforts had paid off, and I was ready to tackle whatever the week had in store.
As I made my way to my desk, I overheard a couple of officers talking near the entrance. "Did you hear about the janitor?" one of them asked.
"Yeah, Kyle, right? No call, no show this morning. That's not like him," the other replied.
I really didn't care about the snakey janitor. I had more pressing matters to tend to.
I went to my desk for a quick minute and saw a message hastily written on a post-it note. It said "3406 Industrial Drive." What the hell is down there? I was down that way a few nights ago. It's just a few rusted-out factories and dirty smokestacks.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to check it out. I drove down to the old Ravco building, an abandoned shell that was once a bustling car factory in the 1930s. The place was as desolate as I remembered, a monument to a bygone era.
I entered the hollowed-out structure, the air thick with dust and the scent of rust. Nothing seemed out of place at first, just the usual decay and neglect. As I walked across the old factory floor towards one of the few remaining walls, something caught my eye.
There, slumped against the wall, was Donnie Lavender—Riverton's infamous pimp. He had been stabbed multiple times, his body left in a congealed pool of blood. The sight was gruesome, yet strangely calm in the stillness of the abandoned factory.
I scanned the area for clues, my mind racing. That's when I saw it—a familiar message scrawled on the wall in red: "MIDNIGHT." It was a calling card I recognized all too well.
The pieces began to fall into place. I knew who had done this, but the question that lingered was why. What had Donnie Lavender done to warrant such a brutal end? And why leave the message for me to find?
I stood there, the weight of the discovery settling over me. This was no random act of violence; it was a message, a challenge. Someone wanted me to know they were out there, and they wanted me to find them.
As I left the factory, I knew this was just the beginning. The case had taken a dark turn, and I was determined to uncover the truth. The answers were out there, waiting in the shadows, and I was ready to bring them to light.
ns 15.158.61.16da2
