Author's Note: I want to reiterate that I will finish this fic, but it may be slow going. I know I've got a few people reading and following this (thanks for that!) so I didn't want you to think it wasn't going to be finished if a little bit of time goes between updates.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Psych belongs to Steve Franks, USA Network, and anyone else who owns it.
*OoO*
Chapter 4
*OoO*
Carlton woke up the next morning with a minor headache but feeling pretty good overall. His partner was awake and on the mend and he could start working on finding the bastard who almost killed her.
He took a quick shower and began to plan his investigation. He had informants who regularly worked for him. He also knew they wouldn't talk to other cops no matter how much pressure was put on them, so he didn't have to worry about them telling anyone else what they'd told him.
He shrugged on his jacket and put his personal weapon in his shoulder holster. He missed the feel of his police issue, but there wasn't anything to be done about it now.
Time to get things done.
*OoO*
"Hello Tommy," Carlton said as he walked into the pawn shop.
The old man working at the counter looked up in surprise. "Lassiter!" He looked behind Carlton. "Where's your pretty partner?"
"None of your business."
"Aw man, don't be like that. I like her. She's nice which is a lot more than what I can say about you."
Carlton leaned against the counter and glared.
"Okay, okay." Tommy shrank back a little. "I got it, it's not of my business." He shifted nervously. "So, what are you doing here? Last I heard, you ain't a cop no more."
Carlton had forgotten how quickly rumors spread to people like Tommy, which was a stupid thing to do. After all, he came to Tommy precisely because he always had an ear to the ground and always knew what was happening before anyone else.
"Yeah, I resigned." He pushed away from the counter. "But I still need some information from you." He got a belligerent look in return. "Just because I'm not a detective anymore doesn't mean I can't make your life miserable, Tommy."
"How? It ain't like you can arrest me, now is it?"
Where the little snot was getting the courage, Carlton didn't know, but it couldn't have come at a worse time. Time to play a little hardball. He turned the sign from Open to Closed and locked the door.
"Hey, you can't do that!" Tommy protested.
"Oh, I think I can," Carlton said with a smile. The pawn shop owner fidgeted as Carlton pulled him into the room behind the counter and shoved him into a chair. "Now, you're going to tell me what I want to know or you're going to be introduced to a Carlton Lassiter you've never met."
Carlton could see Tommy was worried. If he wanted the information he needed, he was going to have to move him beyond worried straight into scared. He hated doing it because Tommy was a good informant but there was no choice. Besides he wasn't a cop anymore so he didn't need an informant; not after this case at any rate. Plus, he didn't know how long he had until the guy who tried to kill O'Hara tried again.
"Now, as the old saying goes, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
"You won't hurt me," Tommy bluffed, "it's against the rules."
Carlton leaned against the wall. "Normally you'd be right, Tommy. But as you pointed out I'm not a cop anymore. So those rules don't really apply to me." He saw the other man start to sweat. "Someone out there has a beef against me and O'Hara. I want to know who he is. So here's the deal; you tell me what I want to know and I won't hurt you."
"You don't mean that, man." But Tommy's voice was less certain than it had been.
"Tommy, whoever this jackoff is tried to kill my partner." He saw the shock register on the older man's face. "Do you really think I would stop at anything to prevent him from trying again?" He shook his head. "If you do you're dumber than I thought."
"Come on, man," Tommy whined. "I don't know nothin'."
Carlton moved away from the wall. "Oh, I think you do, and you're going to tell me."
Tommy shrank back in the chair. "Look, I'm sorry about your partner, but if I talk, he'll kill me!"
"If you don't tell me what I want to know, you won't need to worry about him, you'll need to worry about me." The ex-detective's voice was cold and he could see Tommy was beginning to believe Carlton would hurt him. "Tommy, her safety means enough to me that I quit my job to work this case."
Tommy's nerve broke. "Okay, okay!"
Carlton stepped back. "Who did this?"
"I don't have a name—"
"Tommy—"
"No, man, I'm serious. I don't know a name," Tommy said quickly. "But I know who does."
"Who?"
"I don't know her full name." He cringed at the look Carlton gave him. "But I know she's a nurse at the hospital and her last name starts with an s." Tommy swallowed hard. "The guy never said her full name. Just called a nurse."
"How do you know her last initial?" Carlton was in interrogation mode to keep himself from panicking at this latest development.
"The guy was mumbling to himself the last time he was here and slipped, but he caught himself before he said her name." Tommy held up his hands pleadingly. "I swear that's all I know." He wasn't scared of much, which is how he usually came by the info he sold to Lassiter, but the fair cop he usually dealt with was nowhere to be seen and the guy taking his place scared the crap out of him.
Carlton looked hard at him. "You'd better be telling me the truth and telling me everything, or I will be back and I won't be happy."
Tommy nodded vigorously. "I am, man, I swear."
Carlton turned on his heel and strode out of the pawn shop without another word.
Tommy sighed hard and looked down. Oh well, he needed to close up anyway. Going home to change gave him a reason.
*OoO*
Carlton made it to his car before his legs gave out. O'Hara was helpless in a hospital with a nurse who was working for the psychopath who'd tried to kill her. He started the car and put it into drive as his mind raced. A nurse whose name started with 'S'. Carlton wasn't a former chief detective for nothing. He had a very good idea who the mystery nurse was and he planned on having a talk with her right now.
His tires squealed as he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and sped toward the hospital.
TO BE CONTINUED
