Chapter 4
The night air was thick with city buzz, but Brooks Library sat quietly on the corner of Cedar and 9th—just as unassuming as always. The kind of building you'd walk past a hundred times and never look at twice. Peeling brick, flickering lamppost, ivy vines doing their best to reclaim it. Nobody would ever suspect that beneath its creaky floors and dusty shelves, high-level forensic research was happening in secret passageways.
Devon's car eased to a stop in front of the library. He hadn't shut up since they left the mall.
"I just don't like his vibe, Sage. That guy? Gummy bear snatcher or not, he looked like he models for danger."
Sage, arms crossed, leaned his head against the window, visibly unimpressed. "Devon, please. You're jealous over a snack attack."
Devon threw his hands up, eyes wide. "Jealous? I'm just saying! The guy nearly tackled you into a coma! And he had chains! Chains, Sage. Who wears that many chains unless he's got emotional damage?"
Sage popped open the door, stepping out into the dimly lit sidewalk. "The only thing I'm scared of right now is Quinn waiting for us in the lab with lasers."
Devon climbed out too, slamming the door with unnecessary drama. "I'm serious. I don't trust that guy. He looked like he eats gummy bears for breakfast… ironically."
Sage paused at the weathered wooden door of the library, smirking. "Devon. I don't even know the guy. Chill. It was just a gummy bear thingy." He fished into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the crinkled Citrus Blaze gummy bear bag like it was evidence in a trial. "See?"
He dramatically stuffed a few into his mouth, chewing loud and slow with full eye contact. Devon rolled his eyes so hard they nearly reset his brain.
Sage pushed the door open.
The scent of old books, fresh printer ink, and something suspiciously chemical wafted out. Inside, the dim lighting cast long shadows against tall bookshelves that reached the ceiling. A small desk lamp glowed at the librarian's counter, which was unmanned as usual.
No security. No guards. No scanners. Just that weird old globe in the corner and a crooked portrait of some ancient librarian staring down on them like they were late for detention.
Devon leaned in and whispered, "You sure this place is legal?"as he chuckled in sarcasm
Sage simply walked toward the back. He knew the route.
They reached the dusty Classics section and stopped between Shakespeare and Shelley. Sage placed his palm against the wooden panel. A soft click. The hidden door creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase spiraling downward.
"After you, oh brave gummy knight," Devon quipped.
They descended into the underground lab, where the atmosphere shifted instantly—bright lights, humming machines, and the sterile scent of bleach.
Quinn didn't even look up from her workstation, where a dissected mannequin lay open like a fruit bowl of human anatomy.
"You're late," she said coldly, scribbling notes.
Sage blinked and raised an eyebrow. "You're so good and creative when saying hello's."
Quinn finally looked up, eyes sharp, surgical gloves on, mascara darker than her sense of humor.
"I was about to replace you both with a Roomba and a microwave. At least those two show up on time."
Devon placed the raw methylene and moose cake on the table like a peace offering. "Hey, we brought the goods. And this cake is life-changing, by the way. Have a slice before you start slicing bodies."
She ignored the joke. "Leave the methylene by the scanner. And don't touch anything unless you want to explain to the cops why you're glowing in the dark."
Sage leaned over to Devon and whispered, "She says that like it's a threat but part of me thinks she'd enjoy that storyline."
Quinn, without turning, said, "I heard that."
They both zipped it immediately.
************
The lab glowed around them—walls covered in crime scene photos, newspaper clippings, anatomical charts. Everything from blood analysis to digital reconstructions of faces filled the holographic boards. The heart of their unsolved cases beat down here, below the world that didn't care to know the truth.
Sage unwrapped another gummy bear, popping it in as he stepped beside Quinn. "Alright, Doc Frankenstein. What's the latest?"
Quinn didn't smile, but her eyes glimmered. "Let's dig up some ghosts."
The clock on the crooked lab wall blinked 11:47 PM, looking as exhausted as they all felt.
"Well," Devon groaned, stretching his arms above his head like a sleepy panther, "if I read one more thing about ligature marks, I'm gonna strangle myself with a phone charger."
Sage stood at the hologram table, still mentally piecing together the timeline Quinn laid out like it was a murder board for geniuses. "Nah, we cracked a chunk tonight. Rafe Durov's pattern is tighter than we thought. Guy's movements were basically an algorithm."
Quinn didn't respond. She was already packing up with clinical precision — tablets stacked, files sorted, gloves peeled off and tossed into the biohazard bin like she was offended they touched her skin.
Devon nudged Sage. "She mad?"
Sage didn't look up. "Always."
Behind them, a small crinkle echoed.
Sage's now-empty Citrus Blaze gummy bear sachet slid off the corner of the desk and landed silently on the floor. He didn't notice. Quinn clocked it, barely moving her head.
Of course he didn't notice. He'd been chewing through it like data fuel for the past three hours, casually tossing a gummy in his mouth after every revelation. Sage and sugar — a bond not even science could explain.
"I'm done babysitting geniuses," Quinn announced, her voice colder than the sample freezer.
Sage, completely unbothered, smirked as he grabbed his backpack. "You're so good and creative when saying hello's."
Devon snorted. Quinn didn't flinch.
"You done being grumpy?" he asked her, shouldering his bag and heading for the door. "Or is this your off-duty personality?"
"I'm off-duty," she replied, walking ahead of them. "My personality's in the fridge."
Sage held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yikes."
As they exited the lab, the secret bookshelf passage creaked open with its usual drama, the old wooden panels sliding aside like they knew they were part of a mystery novel.
The three of them emerged from the back of the Brooks Library — its main hall completely deserted now, save for the flicker of one dying fluorescent bulb and the smell of... whatever that ancient couch in the corner had absorbed over the years.
Devon adjusted his hoodie. "Still say that Rafe guy gives me the creeps. The way his victims—"
"Don't," Sage cut in, waving a hand as they approached the door. "Let the dead rest until tomorrow. Tonight, I want to sleep in peace. Like a king. With back support."
Quinn said nothing. The silence was thick, but familiar.
They stepped out into the cool night air. A breeze tugged at Sage's jacket and Devon's curls. Quinn just tightened her coat and stared at the car like it offended her.
Devon unlocked it with a beep. "Shotgun."
"No," Quinn said.
Devon looked like he was about to protest, then sighed, "Okay, but I get to control the music."
"You always pick emotional boy bands when you're sulking," Sage muttered as he slid into the back seat.
"And what of it?" Devon shot back, adjusting the mirror dramatically. "My heartbreak era fuels my playlist."
They pulled away from the curb slowly, headlights cutting across the pavement, the library fading into the darkness behind them.The clock on the crooked lab wall blinked 11:47 PM, looking as exhausted as they all felt.
"Well," Devon groaned, stretching his arms above his head like a sleepy panther, "if I read one more thing about ligature marks, I'm gonna strangle myself with a phone charger."
Sage stood at the hologram table, still mentally piecing together the timeline Quinn laid out like it was a murder board for geniuses. "Nah, we cracked a chunk tonight. Rafe Durov's pattern is tighter than we thought. Guy's movements were basically an algorithm."
Quinn didn't respond. She was already packing up with clinical precision — tablets stacked, files sorted, gloves peeled off and tossed into the biohazard bin like she was offended they touched her skin.
Devon nudged Sage. "She mad?"
Sage didn't look up. "Always."
Behind them, a small crinkle echoed.
Sage's now-empty Citrus Blaze gummy bear sachet slid off the corner of the desk and landed silently on the floor. He didn't notice. Quinn clocked it, barely moving her head.
Of course he didn't notice. He'd been chewing through it like data fuel for the past three hours, casually tossing a gummy in his mouth after every revelation. Sage and sugar — a bond not even science could explain.
"I'm done babysitting geniuses," Quinn announced, her voice colder than the sample freezer.
Sage, completely unbothered, smirked as he grabbed his backpack. "You're so good and creative when saying hello's."
Devon snorted. Quinn didn't flinch.
"You done being grumpy?" he asked her, shouldering his bag and heading for the door. "Or is this your off-duty personality?"
"I'm off-duty," she replied, walking ahead of them. "My personality's in the fridge."
Sage held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yikes."
As they exited the lab, the secret bookshelf passage creaked open with its usual drama, the old wooden panels sliding aside like they knew they were part of a mystery novel.
The three of them emerged from the back of the Brooks Library — its main hall completely deserted now, save for the flicker of one dying fluorescent bulb and the smell of... whatever that ancient couch in the corner had absorbed over the years.
Devon adjusted his hoodie. "Still say that Rafe guy gives me the creeps. The way his victims—"
"Don't," Sage cut in, waving a hand as they approached the door. "Let the dead rest until tomorrow. Tonight, I want to sleep in peace. Like a king. With back support."
Quinn said nothing. The silence was thick, but familiar.
They stepped out into the cool night air. A breeze tugged at Sage's jacket and Devon's curls. Quinn just tightened her coat and stared at the car like it offended her.
Devon unlocked it with a beep. "Shotgun."
"No," Quinn said.
Devon looked like he was about to protest, then sighed, "Okay, but I get to control the music."
"You always pick emotional boy bands when you're sulking," Sage muttered as he slid into the back seat.
"And what of it?" Devon shot back, adjusting the mirror dramatically. "My heartbreak era fuels my playlist."
They pulled away from the curb slowly, headlights cutting across the pavement, the library fading into the darkness behind them.
Inside, still glowing faintly under the lab's blue forensic light...
the empty gummy bear sachet sat on the floor. Alone. Forgotten.
Inside, still glowing faintly under the lab's blue forensic light...
the empty gummy bear sachet sat on the floor. Alone. Forgotten.