Jason's Requiem

Chapter 13

Three hours passed since Walsh was brought in and an hour and a half since her sister left. Shortly afterward, Casey finally made the call to Sergeant Brown and it wasn't long before he arrived at the hospital for the second time, followed by detectives Delahoy and Banks, neither of whom actually walked in, but remained outside as they were both terrified of what was in there; sickness and death.

"So, what happened this time?" Brown asked calmly. "He over exerted himself, didn't he?"

"We were only talking at my apartment," Casey responded in frustration as she pinched the bridge of her nose because of how tired she was. "Truthfully, yeah he was over exerting himself because he never should have even left here in the first place. I never should have agreed to let him help me."

The sergeant nodded and then replied, "You wouldn't have had a choice even if you tried to insist that he stay. He's more stubborn than you and that's saying something. What exactly were you talking about? Have you made any leeway into solving this mess?"

She turned to look at him and blatantly lied to him as she answered, "No, the three of us didn't find anything when we searched the apartment complex. Didn't Eddie tell you that?"

"He did, but that isn't what I was asking you about?" he responded as he crossed his arms and looked at her impatiently. "I get the sense that there's something that you're not telling me. What is it?"

"It's complicated," she replied. "I promise that when I can put the pieces together I'll tell you all I know, but I can't right now. I hope you understa…"

It was then that Walsh's doctor walked out to speak with them once again as he spoke up saying, "He's still hanging on. I've given him some antibiotics to help him fight through the pain, but… but they aren't going to help him for long. He has a day left, maybe a little longer so long as he doesn't resist our help any longer. We've been trying to narrow down the type of poison your killer used on him, but there are just way too many to find it in time. He needs that antidote."

Casey looked at the man with sadness in her eyes and then answered firmly, "Just do whatever you can for him. Do whatever you have to do to keep him alive and I'll get you what you need. Do you have what I asked you for earlier?"

"Yeah, I do, but I don't understand," the man responded in confusion as he handed her something wrapped in a bag, that Brown couldn't tell what it was.

"I know, but trust me there's a good reason for it," Shraeger replied as she quickly put it into another pocket in her jacket. "Thank you, doctor. I'm sorry, Serge. I have to go. I promise I'll explain everything later."

Sergeant Brown tried to call out to her as she ran off, but she didn't stop. She left the hospital and didn't look back, leaving her boss and the doctor confused. As soon as she made it out to her car, the detective took a moment to put her thoughts together, as what she was about to do was something she could get into serious trouble for later on should her boss find out. She finally began to drive and it wasn't more than fifteen minutes when she arrived outside of her destination.

She swallowed twice before finally getting out and then walked up to the old car garage before her, but before she could get very far, she was suddenly stopped by two thugs smoking while standing guard just outside of the closed garage door as one of them spoke up and said, "I don't think you belong here, sweetheart. There aren't many cops that hang around here, especially ones as pretty as you."

Despite the nerves she was feeling inside, Casey answered, "I'm flattered, really, but I'm actually here to speak with your boss, or leader of your gang; whatever he is to you. I know who he is and what he does, but I promise you, I'm not here to arrest him, or you. Can you get him for me, please?"

"There's no need," another man responded as he walked outside after overhearing the conversation. "I'm in charge here. I own this place. You look like you're a detective. If you're not here to arrest me for whatever wrong it is you seem to think I did, then what could you possibly want with me?"

"I'm here to do business with you," she replied curtly. "As I said, I know your little counterfeiting business on the side and believe me, I've got proof. Fixing cars is not where you get the bulk of your money from, but I promise you, I won't bring you to my boss' attention, so long as you help me. You'll even make some extra money if you cooperate. If you don't, then all you'll have to worry about is when the day will be when a number of cops will break in here and arrest all of you."

The owner moved closer to her as he asked smugly, "And what's to stop me from having my boys here make sure that you can't go off and tell anyone about what we do here?"

Detective Shraeger answered, "Because, I'm not the only one who knows about you. My partner does too, but he, like me, won't say a word to our boss if you help me. If something happens to me, then he'll make sure you all suffer for a good long time and he can do it, I promise you that too."

"What exactly do you want from me?" the owner of the garage asked in confusion as he moved closer and stared at the detective standing confidently before him in order to see if he could detect any hint of deception from her.

"How much in counterfeit bills do you have on you right now and how much can you make me by tomorrow morning?" she asked. "If you can get me four million, I'll forget my partner and I even found you out… and I'll give you eight thousand dollars for your trouble; no joke. What do you say?"

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