It's as if all Strahm does is disappear. You can't reach him at his office, at his apartment. Hell, you're damn sure he isn't even at the precinct at all.

Boots muddied by constant search, dirtying the greyed tiles, you pushed through the department doors.

It's after hours; no one should be around, but the soft glow of a lamp tells you otherwise. Further investigation leads you to the man you'd been trailing - smack dab on a desk, case files sprawled out, snoring.