The Black Journal – (Take-Away)

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Friday, 9:45 P.M.

Ethan’s driver side door crunched and creaked as it slammed shut. He was home. Another long day of chasing a killer without so much as a single clue of who it might be. Zero answers, just more questions. Questions, that for now had to wait. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to see his beautiful wife, Susan. Take one look at her and no matter how bad of a day he was having, she’d quickly make all go away. A hot shower and some food wouldn’t go astray either.

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The Black Journal – (Break Room, Over Lunch)

Friday, 5:40 p.m. 
(Ethan and Sarah come up short with their first visit to The Keep. They decide to spend most of the afternoon going over the witness statements from the bar and various other items of interest scattered in a brown file on a lunchroom table)

Awfully quiet, how’s your Chinese food? 

What? Oh, ah…it’s good, it’s good. 

Is that right? Well, you wouldn’t say that by what’s left there on your plate. Sarah, you’ve haven’t eaten a thing. You’re not still mad at me, are you? 

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The Black Journal – Chief’s Office, Over Coffee, Pre-Briefing

Friday, 8:05 A.M.

Good morning, Det. Frost…coffee?

Morning chief, sure, thanks.

Frost, I didn’t sleep very well last night. Do you know why that is?

Why is that chief? Go ahead and enlighten me.

It’s because of our latest homicide case. It’s gone and made my damn ulcer act up again. It bloody well kept me up most of the night. Frost, this guy’s sending a clear message here, but who the hell is it for?

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The Black Journal – (A Ride Home)

Thursday, 9:50 A.M.


Thanks for the lift home, Ethan. I don’t think I could have gotten behind the wheel after that.

No worries, Sarah. It’s me, and it’s the least I can do. You doing OK?

I still can’t believe it. Kevin…I mean, we only spoke a few weeks ago. He returned my apartment key and we had coffee together.

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The Red Journal (The Diner, Afterwards)

MONDAY, 08:35 A.M.

Should I even order coffee?
I hate coffee.
This place does look like it could serve a half-decent pot.
I guess I’ll have to get something just to blend in with these people.
Great, now the waitress is staring at me?
Does she know?
OK, now she’s tapping her pen.
I’m really not in the mood for her right now.
She’s bringing on a headache.
All I can think about is the success of last night.
Yes, I drank cheap disgusting booze with cheap disgusting strangers. But, I prepared for that.
I did go over the line with killing that guy.
Had to though, had to get closer.
And, I did…