The Last Order | Requiem 2

On that day, Jerico's Unraveling, and 444

"How many times did Ms. Croft open fire?" Director Halt said.

"Ms. Croft fired two shots." Hatcher replied. "One struck me in the arm, and the other hit Detective Jerico. I opened fire, stopping her before she could kill anyone else."

"How's your arm?" Director Halt said.

"It's sore," Hatcher checked the time on her phone. 4:44 pm. "Basically a flesh wound."

"What happened next?" Director Halt said.

"I loaded another magazine, then checked Ms. Croft for a pulse. I didn't find one, then I helped Detective Jerico. That's when I called dispatch."

Detective Sato said, "the going story around the watercooler is that you were big jealous because Ms. Croft was fucking Detective Jerico."

It was called an interview, but it was more like a fucking interrogation. Internal Affairs Director Cameron Halt, along with IA Detective Carly Sato, sat across from Hatcher with a small recorder on the table between them.

"I was concerned because I knew exactly what she was. I was worried about the safety of my friend."

Detective Sato said, "tell us about the argument you had with Captain West—prior to his death."

"He gave me my shield and gun back, then he informed me that the Hennigan case was closed. Told me to move on and forget about it."

"And what was your response?" Detective Sato said.

"I expressed my disagreement, and we moved on, amicably."

"And then he ends up dead in Detective Jerico's home a few hours later." Director Halt said.

Hatcher replied, "I can only conclude that Ella Croft lured Captain West to Detective Jerico's home to kill him."

"Why on Earth would she do that?" Detective Sato said.

"Ella Croft knew she was on borrowed time because I was closing in, so she made a choice to redirect attention away from herself by framing us."

"That sounds like a bad movie." Detective Sato smirked.

"It doesn't make it any less fucking true."

"Alright." Director Halt said. "This is a mess, politically and personally. The ninth floor wants heads to roll, but as for now, you and Jerico are on administrative leave. When this investigation is resolved, the ninth floor will make their final decision about the two of you at that time. Have you heard from Detective Jerico? We've been trying to reach him."

* * * *

Hatcher swatted at the flies as she waded through the field of tall yellow grass and passed the dilapidated mailbox numbered 444. Piles of decades old garbage surrounded the property and broken down vehicles littered the surrounding area like a graveyard.

She knocked on the door and it opened by itself, so she let herself in. The single wide was at least thirty years old now. Basketball sized holes littered the floor, and dirt, debris, and graffiti was its décor.

"Michael?"

"In here."

Hatcher entered the bedroom and found Jerico sprawled out on the bed wearing only his blue jeans.

"There you are." Hatcher smiled. "Always playing hard to get, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Internal Affairs interviewed me today. Said they haven't heard from you. And you know what? Neither have I? You look like shit. Is all that sweat?"