a Rex Striker and Chuck Barlett detective story.
Chapters 1-3
Chapter 1: Shadows on the Thames
Detective Rex Striker adjusted the brim of his cowboy hat, the sun peeking over the horizon of London, Ontario.
Standing inside The Richmond Arms, an old English-style pub that had stood the test of time, he ran his fingers along the worn wood of the bar.
His partner, Chuck Bartlett, was seated nearby, thumbing through a series of notes in a leather-bound journal.
"Blakely’s dead," Rex said, his gravelly voice cutting through the low hum of the pub.
"Dragged out of here and tossed into the Thames like yesterday’s trash."
Chuck nodded, his square jaw tightening. "Last seen here at the bar.
A professor at Western University.
Sunrise always brings out the city’s secrets.
Let’s see if Harris Park has anything left to say."
The detectives arrived at Harris Park, the city’s picturesque riverside venue known for summer festivals.
Now, it was a crime scene.
The Thames River whispered to itself, unaware of the violence that had marked its banks.
They crouched near a cluster of bushes where police tape fluttered in the morning breeze.
"Footprints," Rex muttered. "Heavy boots. Someone dragged him, maybe fifty feet."
Chuck’s piercing gaze followed the trail.
"Military-grade treads.
These boots weren’t made for walking; they were made for silence."
Together, they pieced together the scene: Blakely hadn’t died here.
He’d been moved.
Rex pulled out a cigar, lighting it as the wind carried the faint sound of traffic from downtown.
"We need to see what the city’s eyes caught last night.
Let’s find that CCTV."
Chapter 2: The Library of Shadows
By the time the detectives arrived at London Public Library’s Central Branch, the sun had set, casting the modern-glass-and-brick structure in hues of purple and gold.
The library’s façade reflected the vibrant history of the city while serving as its keeper of secrets.
Chuck pushed open the doors.
"Blakely was digging into something big—Indigenous land claims in downtown.
He found something someone didn’t want him to."
Rex smirked. "You’d think academics wouldn’t stir this kind of trouble."
They combed through Blakely’s research—maps, legal documents, faded deeds. Rex found a file marked UNDECLARED TERRITORIES. "This city’s got more skeletons than a graveyard," he said.
Chuck’s phone buzzed.
"Lab says those boot prints? Military contractor gear."
His brow furrowed.
"This isn’t just a random hit, Rex.
Someone with resources did this."
Before they could process the information, Rex caught a flicker of motion outside the library windows.
"We’re being watched," he growled, his hand instinctively moving toward the revolver on his hip.
Outside, the street was deserted except for a black SUV idling near the curb.
When Rex stepped outside to approach, it peeled away, tires screeching.
Chuck joined him, shaking his head. "Whoever they are, they’re running scared."
"Not scared enough," Rex replied, his voice hard. "Not yet."
Chapter 3: Under the Lights of Budweiser Gardens
Budweiser Gardens was alive with the roar of a hockey crowd.
The London Knights were playing, and fans spilled into the streets, celebrating.
Rex and Chuck wove through the throng, searching for Dylan Reeve, a disgraced former security guard who claimed to know Blakely’s killers.
They found Dylan pacing near a food truck, his pale face slick with sweat.
"You guys don’t know what you’re messing with," he said, thrusting a thumb drive into Chuck’s hand.
"Blakely wasn’t killed for land claims. He was killed for discovering a cartel laundering cash through city real estate."
Before they could press for details, a gunshot cracked through the air.
Chaos erupted.
Rex shoved Dylan behind a parked car while Chuck drew his weapon, scanning for the shooter.
A masked figure darted down an alley, and Rex bolted after him, his boots pounding the pavement.
He caught the figure near an abandoned storefront. "Hands where I can see them!" he barked, revolver drawn.
The figure hesitated, then dropped the weapon—a cheap decoy.
Ripping off the mask, Rex found a terrified young woman. "Who sent you?" he demanded.
Her lips trembled, but she stayed silent. Behind him, Chuck arrived, gripping the thumb drive.
"We’ve got bigger problems," he said. "This cartel doesn’t just own real estate.
They own the streets. We’re going to need more than evidence to take them down."
Preview of the Next Part
As Rex and Chuck decode the cartel’s network, they find themselves targeted by a relentless assassin determined to keep the truth buried.
The next chapter sees the duo forging unlikely alliances as they race to bring the cartel to justice, risking everything in a city where sunrise might not come for everyone.
Prompt and Photos by PhotojoeGo. Story fleshed out by CharGPT
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