Marcus "Mack" Alexander hadn’t planned on taking another case so soon after his brief break, but something about the call nagged at him. It wasn’t the usual robbery gone wrong or missing person. No, this one was different.
A murder at Rouses—the local grocery store on Pass Road in Gulfport.
Mack stood in front of the store early the next morning, the sun barely rising over the horizon, casting a dull glow over the familiar sign. He’d shopped here himself countless times. This was his neighborhood. A small-town grocery store shouldn’t be the site of a brutal killing. But here it was.
---
The victim was an overnight stocker named Alex Chambers, a quiet 27-year-old who’d been working the graveyard shift. According to his coworkers, Alex was a reliable employee, always on time, never in trouble. No one could think of a reason why anyone would want to harm him.
Mack approached the crime scene, where Detective Owens, a seasoned officer from the Gulfport PD, was already standing by the door, his face tight with frustration.
"Morning, Mack," Owens greeted him, his voice low. "Thanks for coming out. We could use your help on this one. Something doesn’t feel right."
Mack glanced at the scene, noting the police tape cordoning off the store’s stockroom area. "What do we have?"
Owens led him inside, where Alex’s body had been discovered just a few hours earlier. It was clear from the bloodstains that he had been attacked violently. The store’s security footage showed little—just the usual hustle and bustle of the late-night shift. But the moments leading up to Alex’s death were a blur, and there were no obvious suspects.
"The door was locked from the inside," Owens explained. "So, no sign of a break-in. But the killer wasn’t caught on camera. We think it was someone who knew the layout of the place. Whoever did this, they knew how to avoid detection."
Mack eyed the area. The shelves were stocked neatly, the rows of cans and boxes arranged in a way that spoke to Alex’s meticulous work ethic. But something stood out—one shelf was knocked over, cans scattered across the floor.
"That’s not a robbery," Mack muttered. "A robbery would have been messier. This feels personal."
Owens nodded. "That’s what we’re thinking too. But we don’t know where to start. His coworkers didn’t see anything unusual, and his background checks out. Nothing in his history that stands out."
Mack squatted down, his eyes scanning the scene more carefully. His mind began to click through the possibilities. Alex had been working alone, but had he been expecting someone? Maybe a visitor during the late shift—someone he knew?
"Let’s talk to his coworkers," Mack suggested.
---
The store’s manager, a woman named Carla Davis, met them in the office. She looked as stressed as anyone could expect after something like this, her hair frayed and eyes red from lack of sleep.
"He was a good kid," Carla said, her voice shaking. "Worked here for almost two years. Never caused any trouble. Always showed up on time. He was quiet, though. Kept to himself."
"Did he have any problems with anyone?" Mack asked, watching her closely.
Carla hesitated, looking down at her hands. "Not that I know of. But..." She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable. "There was one thing. He used to hang out with a guy named Brandon—Brandon Thomas. He worked here a few months ago but left after an... incident. I don’t know all the details, but something happened between them. They stopped talking after that."
Mack’s ears perked up at the mention of Brandon. "What incident?"
Carla shifted uncomfortably. "I don’t know the full story. But from what I heard, there was a fight. I think it had to do with money or some personal issue. Brandon left pretty quickly after that. But Alex... he never mentioned it again."
Mack’s gut told him there was more to this. If Alex had been involved in some kind of conflict, it was worth investigating.
"Where can I find Brandon now?" Mack asked.
Carla hesitated for a moment. "I think he still lives in town, over on 15th Street. I’m not sure exactly where, but I know he didn’t move far."
---
Mack and Owens followed up on the lead, heading to a rundown apartment complex off 15th Street. Brandon Thomas was there, sitting on the porch when they arrived, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Brandon looked up as they approached, his face hardening when he saw the police.
"What’s this about?" he asked, his voice defensive.
"Brandon Thomas?" Mack asked, keeping his tone neutral. "We’re investigating the murder of Alex Chambers. We understand you used to work with him."
Brandon stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "Alex? What the hell happened to him?"
"That’s what we’re trying to figure out," Mack said, watching him closely. "We heard you two had a falling out. What happened between you?"
Brandon’s gaze flickered with something—guilt? Anger? He rubbed his hand through his hair, looking away. "Look, we had some differences, but I didn’t kill him. You can ask anyone. We had a fight about some personal stuff, but that was months ago. I haven’t even spoken to him since."
Mack wasn’t convinced. "You were friends, and you just stopped talking for no reason?"
Brandon shrugged. "Sometimes things go south, man. But I don’t know what happened to him. I didn’t have anything to do with it."
Mack studied him for a moment. Brandon’s story wasn’t adding up, but there was no clear proof linking him to the crime. Yet.
---
Back at the store, Owens and Mack reviewed the security footage again. After hours of watching the grainy footage, something caught Mack’s attention—a figure walking past the stockroom just before Alex’s body was found. The person was in uniform but didn’t appear to be an employee. Their face was obscured, but their movements seemed deliberate, almost as if they were hiding something.
"That’s our guy," Mack said, pointing to the screen. "We need to get a clearer image."
---
The breakthrough came when they identified the mysterious figure as someone who had worked briefly with Alex. His name was Darren Miller, a part-time employee who had been let go months ago after a few suspicious incidents.
Darren had a history of theft and had been trying to get back into the store, but Alex had refused to vouch for him when the manager asked about rehiring him. That was the last straw.
With this new information, Mack and Owens tracked Darren down, finding him hiding out in a nearby motel.
When confronted, Darren cracked. "I didn’t mean to kill him," he confessed, tears welling in his eyes. "It was supposed to be just a scare. I needed the job back. Alex... he just wouldn’t let it go. I tried to intimidate him, but he fought back. I didn’t know what to do. It got out of hand."
---
The case was closed, and Darren was arrested for murder. Alex Chambers had been killed because of a petty grudge, the result of a falling-out over a job—a senseless, violent act that had taken a life.
As Mack walked away from the scene, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. Sometimes, the smallest of issues could spiral into something much larger, and the consequences could be deadly.
He’d solved the case, but at what cost?
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