He'd sigh, looking around the park with a tired expression on his face. "All I wanted was a quiet day for once, and I end up getting THIS. But, i suppose a detective's work never does end." He'd walk over to the other side of the statue, where he remembers the blood was flung from. Surveying the area with a brief glance before going over to another section. Continuing this pattern until he either found what remained of the body, or anything else regarding the actual crime. Before saying "Could we have someone check around Greene Banking? I saw a potential suspect going towards there, perhaps there might be another bomb placed around there? We can't risk any more casualties in the slightest, so let us hurry as fast as we physically can to prevent any more deaths from occurring today. Or at the very least, minimize them.." He'd let out a sigh, finishing his brief survey.

Ramirez, who had just pulled up at the park with his protective bulletproof vest equipped, turned to Charles as he immediately began to pen down some information, as Shaun wailed, being pulled into the SWAT van as he rattled the metal walls and eventually driven to tears and to the police station. "Most of our crowd split up according to the scene, but I'll take a look at Greene Banking's outdoor surveillance footage and see what I can do. As for your witnesses..." he would gesture towards a woman on the bench, just as Jones caught up to Charles, "she seems to have gotten a full view of the bomb and is unharmed, so a chat with her should be fine." As Ramirez walked towards the bank, which had a few shards of metal surrounding it from the explosive shrapnel bomb, Jones stepped towards the scene of the crime, gazing at the body, which had had its leg blown off from the blast, complete with his body being found in bits and pieces. His eyes were locked in a state of ghostly disbelief, looking straight ahead into the sky.

New Objective: Talk to the crying woman on the bench about what happened.

He'd look around for pieces of the body, telling Jones to gather them all up so that they could put a 100% identification on the body. Even if it was pretty obvious who it was, it wouldn't hurt to make sure that the victim was really who he thought it was. But, he had to digress. "Alright then, i'll go and talk to her." He'd walk over to the woman with a look of... somewhat concern on his face, staring at her and saying "Hm, What's wrong. Mam? Well... besides the obvious fact that a man had just died, of course." He'd gave her a close examination, making sure that there was nothing out of the normal. Or, just the fact that it could very easily had been a wound he had not noticed before on her. But... He had to digress. "Did you happen to know our victim or something, or was it just the trauma that hit you?"

The women looked up from her bench as Charles approached her, sobbing about the murder. "No, I'm unharmed...but I've seen those men before. That man, he was arguing with the other man...and then...he just blew up into the sky. I'm...sure he was wearing something with a camo pattern when he ran off, but that's not of much help since you've just captured him. All I know is that he always works with his father at the market, so if he was planning that bomb, then the only safe place to store those parts would be at that decrepit market." While she confessed about what she saw, Jones gathered all of the parts of the body, took his ID Card, double checking to see if he fought in the Vietnam War before sending it to the PD in a body bag. "He never liked our bank, that man...but I must admit that the death of his own father...maybe his father liked our bank and opposed his hatred?" she asked, proposing a possible motive for him. "If you'll ever need to contact me, I work at Greene Banking on Main Street, just ask for my name at the front desk."

"Hm, that is plausible. I'll have to find more proof on that however." He'd contemplate her motive, it was quite possible that the man did kill out of pure hatred. It's clear that his PTSD had affected him heavily, so there was no real end to how far he could be willing to go when he felt like he was being threatened in the war. "Anyways, what is your name? I do believe I never did get it from you. Perhaps we have met before somewhere?" He thought deeply, still thinking about what could've occurred at this crime scene.... it all seemed too obvious. a Tale of a man with PTSD bombing his own father. It sounded plausible, but... something still bugged him about this case, it didn't seem premeditated by the man. At least, he wouldn't of risked injury in the slightest. So why in the world would he be so close to the bomb at the time of it's detonation, especially if it was a remote device? "And thank you for the tip, i will check that out quickly."

"My name is Harriet Meadows, here's my card...and I remember one more thing, a scrap of red fabric, flying through the air," she would reply, giving one of her business cards to the man, before letting Charles contemplate the crime for a bit. Jones would also take a straight look down the street as he looked at the markets, worn and decrepit, with half of them being foreclosed and unable to pay the rent. Before he would go there, he took a look around the park, collecting the bomb shards and carefully depositing them into a bag, passing that same bag to Ramirez for analysis while he snapped several pictures of Shaun's footprints as he fled the scene of the crime, seeing that half of his prints weren't from a simple shoe. He would search for this magical scrap, but to no avail, it looks like it had already fled the scene of the crime or Harriet had mistaken it for something else. "Come on, partner, we've got to check out that market before the SWAT team gets to it," Jones would call out, before dusting himself down and walking down the same sidewalk where they had chased Shaun Crosby down several minutes ago.

Current Objective: Search the Eastfield Market for any leads on Shaun's bomb-crafting!

As Alec Wakes up hes confused. "Wheres my phone and my call-in for work?" Alecs back hurts he had been sleeping overtime. He gets stressed shoving clothes on, grabbing his uniform and running out the door. "Gosh im so fired!" He runs fast hes jumps on his motor-bike and made it to work. "Phew hopefully im not fired" He Walks in and spends the whole day in his office with nothing. He Gets super bored But Tomorrow is another day and hey, who knows what could happen?

As he got to the office, King was the first to greet him, sternly meeting him at the front door. "What are you doing here, Alec? Haven't you heard the important call that every single officer got at lunchtime?" We have a bomber under custody and this is a very, VERY important mission that must be solved. I want you to go to the crime scene and don't stop until you have searched every possible lead, especially with those markets! Now GO!" He seemed to be excessively forceful, but Alec was late for work after all, as he should have checked in 3 hours earlier, although he wasn't fired due to King's need for manpower in this sensitive case. The scene of the crime was Cooper Park with the markets being just up ahead, so he should start hurrying if he wants to save his skin.

Alec Rushed to his bike by also saying "Yes sir, right away sir!" He Floors it hes lost. "WHERE THE HECK AM I?!?!" He is stressed so that caused him to crash and not die or anything but really hurt he crashed into a tree. he had a huge cut in his leg but he got up and drove the PD "Ahh Shoot" he was dizzy from blood loss he thought he would not make it but he burst through the PD doors Running to Chiefs Office Hoping for Some help.

As King was just about to file some paperwork away concerning the trial of Harry Krane, he was interrupted by the sound of a man bursting through the door and asking King for medical assistance. "My God, did the bomber strike once more?" King asked, demanding an answer as he pulled out a first aid kit, having a degree himself and having taken care of multiple bullet wounds in the past. He immediately began to patch up his leg, but noticed the lack of any metal shards within his leg, asking him how he was injured by the bomber or if it was due to a secondary cause. While this was going on, Jones had reached the markets, now dilapidated with their green and brown caskets of cloth parading over wooden carts. He began to pace around at once, trying to find the Crosby's stall before Charles caught up with him.

Charles had caught up to him in a matter of moments, seemingly having been almost entirely petrified by the explosion's aftermath. almost as if it reminded him of something, in a weird sense of the word? Either way though, he had caught up at this rate. and was staring at Jones. "Is this around the general area of the stall? If so, be EXTREMELY careful. there could very easily be traps set for us by the bomber. we don't want to total the entire market street, or even worse. have ourselves be blown to bits and pieces like the victim had been just moments ago right in front of both of our own eyes. Anyways, if you don't see anything out of the ordinary. You could continue to move on, but if theirs even the slightest hint of something amiss.. back away immediately, and wait for the SWAT and bomb squads to scan out the area. do you understand that, at the very least?" He'd stare at Jones with a... Concerned look, rather then a intimidating one this time around."

"Indeed, I wouldn't even be shocked if Shaun had already set up a spare bomb to catch us off guard," Jones muttered, as he walked towards Henry's stand, which was famously named "The Henry and Cooper Crossing." As he walked towards the back, he would find a satchel made of cloth, taking a closer look at it as he carefully opened it, checking to see if it was just another trap and another bomb, but the lightness of the bag caught him off guard and confirmed his suspicion that it was safe. Inside, he would find a folder, with a similar logo on the front cover to the contracts that he had found at the stock market last week. "What's this...? I didn't think we'd hear from Alden Greene again so soon!" he questioned as he flipped through the pages, easily deciphering the relatively simple terminology that was only addressed to Henry and Shaun. "The documents show that he's trying to buy the Eastfield Market stalls... I bet he wants to build a new Casino, or some other lucrative business," he minded, before giving them over to Charles.

"Well, that's a motive for bombing one of Greene's areas. that's for sure, but I still don't quite understand everything that is invloved in tihs case... we should get over to his stall though. Tick is ticking, and if theres really a bomb there we will notice it. It would likely be the same model, considering that I dobut this area would have THAT many resources to create such a large variance of bombs. unless he's been hogging them for decades upon decades and only just began to plan this out. Something still... Bugs me about this case though. It just seems way too obvious. A tale of a insane man taking his anger out on his father and Greene by bombing them both and making it all disappear in one blow. It sounds like something out of a typical action movie, if i'm going to be honest with you." He'd laugh slightly, staring downwards for a few seconds before looking back up and walking closer and closer to the stall that they both owned. "Do you think we'll find anything in there?"

"Surely we will, there has to be something that could assist us in these drawers..." Jones commented, taking a look underneath the counters of the market until he came across one more object, a strange letter that he would pick up and read. It appeared to have single-sided tape stuck on it, as he read over the crudely written note. "Leave Eastfield Market, you scum...or I'll blow you all up! Are you sure that Shaun's not our guy after that?" Jones asked, as he sealed the note into a bag and sent it off to forensics for a handwriting analysis, just to be sure. "Considering the explosive threat he just made, no pun intended, Shaun really should've used magazine cutouts instead." Just as he was about to dig deeper, a reporter immediately charged into the scene, with a microphone that Jones didn't recognize, her bearded cameraman closely following behind her as he dutifully captured her speech with a fancy Nikon camera. "Hello? Sorry to bother you, I'm looking for Henry Crosby," the reporter replied, being dressed in a black suit and her hair cut in a bob cut. "We were supposed to meet here like half an hour ago. Are you friends of his?"

"No, it's unfortunate to say. but the mans been murdered in cold blood. explosion down at the plaza. His son's currently in custody too, so theirs no ability to be able to talk to him either. I do apologize for the disruption in your..." He'd just assume it was a investigative reporter, and said "Investigation, or whatever it is that you have to inquire about with him." He was dressed in full detective gear, something he had gotten while walking by one of the stalls. Did he quite literally have backup supplies just laying around in one of the locations? "Anyways, yeah. I do apologize, but you should be careful. there are likely SWAT coming here as we speak, and if they see you walking around suspiciously... well, I think you can get the point." He'd laugh a tiny bit, leaning against one of the drawers and looking back at Jones with a bit of a weird expression.

"Ma'am, we'll settle any business we might have with you later, but why exactly did he have a meeting with you?" he inquired, holding out a notepad to collect her information. "All he said was that he had some important documents to show me, but he told me to meet here just about now," she commented, as her cameraman leaned in for a closer shot of the documents, which Jones abruptly grabbed. "Apologies, but these are police property, ma'am. We'll have to have them checked and screened before we can pass them off." "If you ever do, make sure that you get them to us as soon as possible, our information might be able to help your investigation. Look...here's my phone number. If you ever want to make the trade, call me and we can meet just about anywhere," she inaugurated, passing Jones her phone number on a sticky note. With that, they walked off and out of the market, just as Jones concluded his investigation. "I guess that would be about it, but hang on..." Jones would pause as he got a phone call from someone, picking it up.

"Yo, it's me, Alex! Sorry about not being able to get to you on your last case, but as far as I can tell, Nathan here wants to tell you all about the body as soon as I tell you about what I found. I took a look at the prints you found and it perfectly lines up with a pair of orthopedic shoes, the type that people who get their feet twisted would wear and according to this match, your victim's shoe size didn't line up with them at all. We even took a look at the bomb shards that you picked up and found tiny traces of green paint on the sides, plus a bit more of Shaun's DNA if you ever needed to put him under some pressure. Right, and your bomb switch? Coated in his prints, top to bottom, with no one else's prints to be found," he would conclude, passing the phone off to Nathan as the more formal coroner got in contact with the crew. "Well, I took a look at the body and...didn't find too much. The bomb's been blown into so many pieces that I couldn't find exactly what bomb it was, so unless you had a bomb expert on the scene, we're straight out of luck. As for the proximity, though...you're going to be looking for someone with hearing issues, especially if this person was 30 feet within the range of the bomb! Anyone who has hearing issues should be considered a suspect, especially if you have a true killer who wanted to watch it go off, as it was especially loud from what I can tell. Finally, the blood's a perfect match with Shaun's, which should clear up any doubt. We'll call back once we get some information on the writing to confirm our suspicions." Nathan finally hung up, leaving the detectives with a lot of room and new evidence to work with. What would Charles' initial theory come to?

"Well, it seems to all point towards the son at the moment. I believe that he could very well be the killer, and that I may just be looking a bit too much into this all. However, it just feels... wrong, in a senses. to accuse him, despite all of the evidence pointing towards him. For now, i can't rule him out as a suspect in the slightest. However, I believe we should tackle all angles of this case before we end up saying that it's decisive. We should also get those documents copied. We can't hand them the original copies off due to them being evidence, obviously. however, if we were to hand copies off. I'm sure that there would be no issue, considering they are police property now, which should clear up the majority of legal issues regarding that." He'd give a sly chuckle. "PLus, we should see what that reporter has in store for us. might actually be something useful, i've worked with decent enough slueths before. They are amazing detectives, really. Although they can get in the way."

"Well, I remember the one time that I nearly worked with Tony, but that was way before he started snooping around and becoming a mob boss, you see. He actually used to be an informant, but he quit to go against the law with his dastardly ways," Jones commented as he sent off a few pictures of the contracts to the forensic lab to be copied and sent back to him in a hour. Just as he was about to suggest going to the park for another search, Ramirez was already giving Jones another frantic call, as Jones picked up the receiver. "GUYS! We've got a situation! I received a phone call about a potential ticking bomb by the hot dog stand, you've got to get there, quick!" Ramirez blurted out, as Jones immediately started off into a run, preparing himself for a long run to the potential bomb threat. "Come on, Charles, it looks like we should be more careful as to what we wish for!" Jones called out, putting the phone away and preparing to run to Alfred's hot dog stall to intercept the bomb before it's too late.

Bomb Alert on Grimsborough: Chapter 2:


New Objective: Get to the hot dog stand and speak to the stall owner who reported the bomb!

He'd break into a sprint towards the hot-dog stand the very moment he heard that, not really flinching in the slightest as he broke into a run. sorta tripping a bit every few turns, mainly because of the big coat he was in. despite this though, he was surprisingly fast for someone his age. managing to outrun Jones and turned right towards the hot-dog stand. Running towards it as he searched around desperately for where the potential "bomb" was. He wasn't going to let anyone else die, even if it risked his own life in the process. Hoping the SWAT were smart enough to evacuate everyone from the scene in the meanwhile, he began to dig through the area somewhat carefully for any sign of where the potential explosive could be hiding. Anything, anything out of the oridarny... He prayed this was a prank call and that it wasn't at the same time.

A dark-skinned man with dark sunglasses that concealed his eyes, a white paper hat and an apron with a mustard stain on it was standing at the hot dog stand when Jones approached it, as he immediately recognized him as the owner of the stand. "Ziegler, I'd like for you to meet Charles right now, but we have to keep things brief. You called the police about a potential bomb threat, right?" Jones asked, checking around the area to see if a bomb was nearby. Ziegler quickly replied, "Exactly. As far as I can tell, blind people always have better hearing and senses, so my instincts told me that there was a bomb coming from a car over there...one that's had its ignition on all day." A quick search was all that it took for Jones to realize that the car was actually off and the ticking noise was coming from somewhere else, quickly detecting it from the trunk. However, the trunk refused to budget as the car lurched for a bit, Jones calling out, "Charles! Help me over here, I have no idea how long this bomb will stay disarmed!" as he tried to pop the trunk off of the car.