[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://media.giphy.com/media/wbomIbUs5Bc2I/giphy.gif[/img][hr][b]Location:[/b] The Regal Building, Apartment 1D (His)
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	Caesar had quite enough of today. It was exhausting. He had looked at the footage many, many times, focusing on different parts, different people. He caught bits and pieces of Alicia's and Lorna's efforts in painfully ejecting the less savory members of the Fourth Estate from the area of the crime scene. (Those he went back to, not because of any potential evidence, but because it was damned good entertainment.) He observed the footage over and over and over. Nothing. 

	His short breaks to take a drink or get in some exercise were still spent thinking about the footage. It was taxing his brain, the sheer repetition of it. Caesar knew full well that his capacity to apply reason to it had reached its limits. Every detail was etched into his brain, thanks to the constant, self inflicted barrage of the images. Different eyes on this would be a blessing. Maybe that forensic tech would have some glimmer or recognition. Maybe his girls, whenever they got around to it, would have their own observations. But for right now, at this moment, he had to get his brain far away from the events of last night. Give his subconscious time to process. 

	Leftovers and TV. No thinking necessary. Maybe he could TiVo himself up some back episodes of that zombie series. The old man was partial to the grizzled redneck with the crossbow. Seemed like his kind of people, with the exception of the drugged-out, racist family. 

	So he relaxed on his enormous, comfy couch with some manner of chopped meat, fruit salad (with those little marshmallows and shaved coconut), and a couple of Engelatos. Caesar picked up the remote and pressed the power button, hoping to get to his show quickly and turn off his brain for an hour. Unfortunately, what he saw first was the local news. 

	It didn't matter what news program; if it was local, it was there, front and center. The story was slung across the networks like liquid shit from a pressurized air cannon. Another inhabitant of this tragic place was dead. One Caesar had met before. He'd seen this guy around, too - Lyle Somethingorother. Marlestone, the reporter said. Yeah, that was it. Lived in M'hija's building, too. Another suicide? Another coincidence? Like hell. The old man wasn't buying it. Too many obscure, seemingly unrelated events happen that are so eerily similar within close proximity to one another, and it fails to be coincidence. 

	He kept it on the news. Caesar slowly ate his meal, not particularly enjoying a bite of it. His footage from last night was still on his brain, fresh and clear, but now he was letting his subconscious process it, adding in this new information. To be on the safe side, he retrieved his pistol and got his working gear together. He wanted to make himself available at a moment's notice if need be. Next, he sent a quick text message to Alicia and Lorna, just in case they didn't get the memo. 

	LYLE MARLESTONE DEAD. DROWNING/SUICIDE? SOMETHING HAPPENING. CONSIDER AREA HOSTILE.

	Caesar considered the possibility that, were these all random murders, what good would it possibly accomplish? Who would have anything to gain from a campaign of senseless killing in an area like this? Perhaps it was a real estate grab. This was definitely lowering the land value. With the intent of finding out if this location's history, or any publicly listed plans for the future were in play, Caesar returned to his computer.