"Yes, yes of course," Caroline replied as she scrambled around her desk to find a pen, and when she did, she jotted down the address in a messy yet artistic script that only she could probably read. "I'll be there in a few hours. Thank you." As she hung up, she breathed a sigh of relief as she stared at the scribbles on the piece of paper in her hand. It was a glimmer of hope, albeit a strange one, in a sea of vagueness that surrounded Keith's death. She was ready for answers.

She stood up and tried to run her fingers through her hair and was stopped by the knots that had formed. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, thinking to herself that she should try to improve her appearance a bit before meeting someone new. Although people usually don't take a blonde seriously, it was especially difficult to be understood when you looked like a madwoman. She walked into the bathroom and worked a flat brush through her silvery blonde hair until it was to her liking. She stared at her face for a moment. Keith said when they met that he loved a woman who looked "done up," which had been a foreign concept to the Georgia-raised girl who never took the time to enhance her appearance. She had to admit, it had been nice to see her face au naturale the past two weeks. 


After tidying up the house that looked like a tornado ripped through it and enjoying a joint on her back porch, she slipped on black sunglasses and a black purse and left the house. She sat in her car and gripped the wheel as her eyes closed for a moment. Was she ready to find out the truth? Was she ready to possibly get dicked around again? She wasn't sure at the moment. But she knew she had to try. Keith at least deserved that. 

She drove the rumbling pick up through the city until she arrived at her destination: a large, gloomy apartment building. [i]"Are you fucking kidding me?[/i]" she thought to herself as she contemplated turning around, but she ultimately forced herself to get out of the truck and make her way to the front door of Thomas Blackgate. 

She lightly knocked on the wooden door, scanning the hallway around her. A mix between the dilapidated building, the loud vent blowing on the back of her neck, and the mystery that awaited behind the door in front of her caused goosebumps to scatter across her freckled, tan skin. A noise from the other end of the hallway caused her to turn around to investigate when she heard the door creak open behind her. She swiveled back around quickly to meet his eyes. She assessed the tired looking man, and then offered a hand for him to shake, while the other hand held a manila envelope.

"Hi, I'm the one who called you earlier. Caroline," she greeted him anxiously, and she suddenly became aware of how hoarse her voice was. The usual buttery tone was now strained and quiet. "Excuse my voice, I'm in a metal band," she said jokingly, instantly regretting it. "I'm sorry, I get corny when I'm nervous." She winced at her last comment and mentally told herself to just shut up already.