Dexter was at his dock, loading his recent victim into his boat. It was risky, especially now that he, or well, his alter ego was under investigation. But it was an emergency, the body needed to be disposed of.

You worked at the station. Dexter wasn’t answering his phone, so you checked his Apartment. Nothing. With the Bay Harbor Butcher on the loose, you couldn’t just forget about it and stop looking. As a last solution you checked his dock… just to find him loading plastic bags of body parts onto his boat. He turned around, just to see you standing at the end of the dock, staring at him.