A Detective Who No Longer Trusts Even His Own Thoughts | John Rains, Hakim Greene, Case of a Detective, detective, psychological thriller, crime story, police station, paranoia, book excerpt

What happens in this part of the story?

After a difficult morning at home, Detective John Rains tries to find refuge in his work and returns to the routine that had been his only escape for years. But this time, not even the police station can quiet the chaos in his mind.

As he struggles to focus on unsolved cases and everyday duties, John becomes increasingly haunted by the feeling that something is wrong. The looks from his colleagues, ordinary conversations, and harmless situations begin to feel like threats, while paranoia slowly takes control of his thoughts.

The only person who notices that something serious is happening is his partner, Hakim Greene – a man who knows John better than most people in his life. But even Hakim does not yet know the truth.

Excerpt from the book - Part 3

John was facing a difficult day – not because of the workload, but because of the inner battle that gave him no peace. His mind felt like an overcrowded desk, every corner piled with thoughts that overlapped and crashed into one another. The moment he stepped into the police station, he tried to focus on routine, hoping it would save him.

“Hernandez brought fresh donuts this morning. They’re in the kitchen. Better hurry!” Detective Harmon called out as he walked down the hallway with two donuts in hand. Harmon’s cheerful tone and carefree smile felt like mockery to John’s state.

“Are you sure you want to eat both of those?” John replied, trying to mask his anxiety with a light joke.

“What? Are you my wife now?” Harmon shot back with a grin, but John couldn’t match the same energy.

“I’m just saying… you should cut down on donuts. They’ll kill you.”

“A punk on the street will kill me sooner than these donuts. Let me enjoy my morning.”

“Sorry. Enjoy your donuts.” As Harmon walked away, John called after him, this time with a clear note of discomfort: “Harmon, do you have anything for a headache? My head is splitting.”

“I’m not sure if I do, but I’ll check with my partner,” Harmon replied, raising a hand as a promise.

John nodded with relief and headed toward the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk. The folders in front of him felt lifeless, none of them holding his attention. The top folder was from his latest case – now officially a cold case. The investigation had been halted, the clues had dried up, and with them, any hope of solving it. He opened the folder and flipped through the reports and evidence one last time. Every page was a reminder of his failure. His headache throbbed in his temples. He tried to relax, but his mind refused to give him peace.

As he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead, he noticed two colleagues watching him. One of them said something to the other, then both turned toward him before looking back down at some papers on their desk. Their hands gestured in his direction, and they exchanged a faint, unreadable grin, as if they were hiding something. “They know.” The thought struck him like a thunderbolt. “How? How could they know?” His mind spiraled into the worst possible scenario. He hunched over his keyboard, pretending to work, while watching them from the corner of his eye. Sweat gathered on his forehead, and his hands turned cold. “They’re definitely coming over now. They’re going to say something. Everyone will find out.” As his anxiety rose, his partner appeared behind him carrying two cups of coffee from the nearby café. John didn’t even notice him, completely consumed by paranoia. Meanwhile, the two detectives really did start walking in his direction. “Here they come… they’re coming.” John’s stomach tightened. But they walked right past him, barely acknowledging him, and continued toward the evidence board for the case they were working on. Once they passed, John exhaled deeply, realizing he had been clenching his fists so tightly that they ached. It had all been in his head – just his mind playing tricks on him, pulling him deeper into the dark.

His partner gently patted him on the shoulder. “What's wrong with you, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

John jolted and tried to smile but couldn’t. “Just a headache… nothing serious.” But inside him, the storm didn’t ease.

“Are you alright, John?” Detective Hakim Greene’s voice was deep and calm, but the look in his piercing dark eyes was unyielding. Hakim – black, tall, strong, and always composed – had a talent for reading people better than most. His thick black mustache only emphasized the seriousness of his expression as he watched his partner.

John looked up, trying to hide the trembling. “Sorry… I just slept badly. My head is killing me.”

Hakim shook his head and handed him the cup of hot coffee. “That’s why I brought this. You definitely need more caffeine than I do this morning.” John thanked him, but his voice was weak and distant. He took the coffee as if clinging to the last bit of support. “What are we doing about the park ranger’s case? Are we really shutting down the investigation?” Hakim asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“We don’t have a choice,” John replied in a tired voice. “No leads, no suspects. It’s an empty case. But we know how this goes. The killer will slip up sooner or later.”

“Hopefully before he hurts someone else.”

“I hope so too,” John said quietly, staring through the folder in front of him rather than at it.

Hakim took a deep breath and continued watching his partner. John seemed distant, as if his thoughts were somewhere far away. Every time Hakim asked a question, he had to repeat it for John to finally hear him. That nervousness was new – and concerning.

Their tension was suddenly cut by Captain Arnold’s voice. “Raines!” John didn’t even lift his head. “RAINES!” The voice echoed through the room, and John jolted, spilling a bit of coffee onto the desk.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Where is the report on the store clerk homicide? It should’ve been on my desk already!”

John quickly began searching through the folders, feeling as though everyone in the room was staring at him. Calm down. Just find it.

“Here it is,” he finally said, handing the folder to the captain. “We finished it yesterday; I just forgot to turn it in.”

Captain Arnold eyed him with suspicion. “If you’re sick, go home. I’m not having you infect the whole station.”

“I’m not sick. I just slept badly, that’s all.”

“In the future, I want reports immediately. No excuses.”

“Understood,” John muttered as the captain walked away.

Hakim kept watching him, sensing how John was withdrawing into himself. Every time the division door slammed shut, John would flinch, his eyes searching for a face he clearly didn’t want to see. Who or what is he so afraid of? Hakim wondered. He had known his partner for ten years. They had worked together on every major case. Hakim Greene was known for his unshakable calm and intimidating presence. Even back when he was just a patrol officer, he was a force criminals dreaded.

Once, while chasing a suspect through the neighborhood, his sheer size and fury made the man surrender on the spot. Rumor had it that the suspect – sweaty and terrified – ended up with wet pants before Hakim even said a word. That incident earned Hakim a reputation, but also the respect of his colleagues.

Now, as he watched John, Hakim felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time – concern. He realized that John’s behavior wasn’t just unusual; it was alarming. But he also knew how hard it would be to get anything out of him. One thing he was sure of, though, was that getting John out of the station might help him open up. John would never admit to having a problem in front of the other detectives. That’s why Hakim invited him to breakfast at the diner across the street from the police station.

Sometimes the most dangerous enemies are not criminals. Sometimes they are the thoughts you cannot escape.

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