Paint the town red

Chapter XXV

Monday morning began with the fact that before visiting Frederick, I went into our office to refresh my memory of all the important details about our case. When I went in there, my partner wasn't there yet. It's weird, because most of the time he came to work either before me or almost at the same time as me. I figured I'd go through a few reports, and if he doesn't show up in the meantime, I'll try to contact him and find out where he's gone.

I sat down at my desk and took out a folder with printed reports on all three murders. Flipping through one document after another, I glanced from time to time at my watch, then at the door, hoping that Max would come any minute. I don't know why, but I felt uneasy. Maybe it's just because our yet-to-be-caught serial killer is killing everyone I care about, and now it's Max's turn? No, I don't even want to think about it. There's nothing wrong with him, he just... he overslept. Well, or he got stuck in the queue for coffee. Or there was an emergency at his house and he had to stay late. There could be many reasons, and he definitely wasn't lying lifeless somewhere in a public place in a pool of his own blood, and with that fucking ribbon on his arm. Damn!

I threw the reports on the table and immediately went into the database of new cases, I need to check if there were any reports of new victims. While I was entering my login details, I already started to freak out because my hands were shaking and completely disobeyed me. I understood that he was fine, but my anxiety decided to make fun of me and add more stress to my already stressful life.

When I checked the information I was concerned about, I breathed a sigh of relief – no new murders. But my partner never showed up for work. What's the matter? I took my phone and checked for messages from Max – none. Without thinking twice, I decided to call him, since he might not notice the message right away, and the phone, even in silent mode, Max'll heart its vibration.

I quickly found his contact in the phone book and pressed the "Call" button. There were long beeps on the phone, and then I finally heard hoarse voice of my missing boyfriend.

"God, Max, where are you? Are you okay? Are you all right? I'm just..."

"Calm down, Charlie. I'm just a little... a little sick."

It was clear from his voice that it was difficult for him to speak, and the conversation irritated his vocal cords, so he often covered the microphone to clear his throat. When did he get sick? Yesterday he was perfectly healthy, I remember it very well.

"Do you want me to come to you now?"

"Do you want to get sick and sneak away with the report in front of Frederick?"

He weakly chuckled, and I couldn't help but smile. Even in this state he remains sarcastic jerk. But, damn it, he's mine favorite sarcastic jerk.

We talked a little on the phone, although I did most of the talking, and Max only answered with short "yes" or "no" – he didn't want to provoke another coughing fit. I promised him I'd visit him after work, which he started protesting, but I shut him up fast.

After our conversation, I felt much calmer from the fact that Max was fine... well, kinda shitty, but fine. At least he's breathing and not lying on the cold ground. Damn it, Charles, stop being such a fatalist!

Before going to Frederick's, I ordered fruit delivery to Max's address from the online store - I'm a caring boyfriend, so Max has to suck it up with it and relax. As soon as the order was confirmed, I took a couple of papers from my desk and went to my boss's office – no one canceled the report, and it sucks.

When I got to the door of Fred's, I knocked on it and, hearing his grumbling "Come in," I entered the chief's office. When Fred saw me, he looked up from his computer and folded his hands on his desktop.