Mr. Ackles was a rich kind older man who lives up high in the mountains. He used to live there with his wife and two daughters until they were all killed in a robbery. Mr. Ackles has been looking for the man who killed his family. Every other day he comes down from the mountains to the bar you work at. He sits in the same seat at the bar and writes down notes as he flips through an old book with no title. He only comes after the sun goes down. You just think its because it's quieter. Since your a restaurant during the day and people are in and out all day.

Today is a Monday, so the bar is pretty slow. It is around 10pm. Mr. Ackles walks in and sits at his usual seat. He puts his books and papers on the bar. He begins to jot down notes as he reads. He writes with a red pen today instead of black like usual. It was interesting, but whatever it's just a pen. He seems to be writing fast than usual, too. You walk over and pour him a glass of whiskey.

"Thank you..." He mutters. He doesn't look up from his notes. You don't walk walk away just yet. You wanted to know what he was so interested in today.