The Hunt

I found you

Although Greyson has left, the weight of his story stays in the room, leaving me in the soft glow of the dim light in my hotel room. As I think about the heartbreaking story of a man trying to make things right by looking for his lost child, there is a deep silence around me. A slip of paper with Greyson's number slides under the door, marking the end of the conversation. I am standing in the aftermath, in a quiet place where I can think. I keep hearing Greyson's story in my head, which makes me wonder about some scary things. There is a lot of doubt in the air, like an unwanted guest, casting a shadow over Greyson's version. The difference between what Greyson said and what Raymond said about his daughter's problems makes it hard for me to understand. In Raymond's version of Amelia's past, she seems disappointed instead of completely rejected, which is different from Greyson's version. The contradictions make me even more determined to find the truth and sort through the lies and half-truths that cloud the case.

As Greyson's footsteps fade from the hotel room door, I stand in silence for a moment, my mind swirling with different stories. The elusive truth teases me, a puzzle demanding resolution before emotions erupt into chaos. As I go back to my makeshift workspace, I start to feel tired. The steady beat of the raindrops outside my window makes a soothing background and lullaby that makes me want to fall asleep. Since my hotel room is quiet and away from everything else, I give in to the pull of sleep and let the rainy night hold me.

As the morning sun paints the city in hues of amber, I awake with an undeniable craving for black coffee. I go to a nearby coffee shop because I need caffeine. As soon as I walk in, the smell of roasted beans fills the room. Before I go to work, I take a hot shower and change my clothes. Before I go out, I make sure that my hotel stay is extended so that there are no extra nights needed. While I look for the best black coffee, the engine starts up and roars. The atmosphere of the coffee shop temporarily takes my mind off of how hard the case is, and the rich flavor of the roasted coffee gives me a short break from it. But the peace does not last long because the TV in the diner breaks up the peaceful background.

"Good evening. I'm Nate Hancock, and this is News 4. Tonight's headline casts a dark shadow over our city. Billionaire Donald Matthews has been found dead," Hancock announces.

Beside him, Jesse Clark echoes the gravity of the situation. "Nate. The details are still unfolding, but what we know is that Matthews, a towering figure in both business and the community, was discovered lifeless earlier today. Authorities are on the scene, and the investigation is in its early stages."

As the news anchors exchange glances, the weight of the unfolding tragedy lingers in the studio. Viewers across Chattanooga lean in, their collective curiosity gripped by the shocking news.

"That's right," Hancock continues, "The police have yet to release specific details about the circumstances surrounding Matthews' death. What we do know is that it's sending shockwaves through the city. Matthews, known for his philanthropy and business ventures, leaves a void many struggle to comprehend."

The camera pans to Clark, who adds, "And, of course, speculation is already rampant. Some are wondering if this could be connected to Matthews' personal life. We'll keep you updated as more information becomes available."

The newsroom transitions to footage of the city, where shadows of uncertainty hang over familiar landmarks. The city of Chattanooga, known for its tranquility, finds itself thrust into the spotlight of a high-profile murder.

"Absolutely," Hancock affirms, "It's a developing story, and we'll bring you the latest updates as soon as we have them. In the meantime, the city is left grappling with the loss of a prominent figure, and many are left wondering what could have led to such a tragic end."

It is hard for me to believe that this is the same man I talked to a few days ago. I am still reeling from the shocking news. The thoughts are racing about the possibility that Raymond planned this horrible act because he was mad that his daughter was involved. But the reasoning is flawed because the father, not the son, is the victim. Being careful is now necessary. If Raymond really is planning attacks on people who hurt his family, I need to be careful what I say when we talk next. I finish my coffee, leave a big tip, and quickly drive back to my truck. My mind goes back and forth as I think about the complicated web of motives and grudges that is playing out in front of me.