"I assume we're going to her apartment to talk with her boyfriend?" Henry asked as he stared out of the car window as the world blurred by.
"Yeah," she replied. "Hopefully we'll be able to get this son of a bitch."
"Don't judge a book by its cover, Detective. People aren't always what they appear to be," he plainly stated about Daily and himself. He then proceeded to clear his throat.
"Well, you know. I just hope we catch the guy that killed that poor girl," she said quietly. The rest of the car ride to the victim's apartment was silently awkward.
As time passed, Henry thought about the thing that weighed him down, his secret. People aren't always what they appear to be, the words echoed in his mind. I was talking about myself, he thought, why couldn't things be simpler? Why couldn't it be easier tell her? I wish I could, but how? What if it was like Nora all over again? But I would be liberated, free from these lies and excuses. He continued to question himself before Jo had to snap him back to reality.
"Henry, wake up," Jo said gently whilst shaking his shoulder with a bit of force.
"I apologize," Henry muttered as he stirred. "I must have dozed off a bit," he said whilst stretching his limbs. "How long was I asleep?"
"Just about five minutes," Jo answered, "but don't worry about it. I know the job can be stressful at times. Besides, it's good to get a little cat-nap in from time to time," she said as she patted his arm. The two exited the car and prepared to talk to Luke Daily.
The job isn't even half of it, Henry thought.
They both walked up the stairs leading to the door, but before knocking, Jo looked into his intelligent, brown eyes and addressed him, "I don't want you wandering off or doing something crazy. This guy could be dangerous, and I don't want to take any risks. Understood?"
"I suppose," Henry took a deep breath and agreed hesitantly. Henry stood behind her, eagerly awaiting the wonderful things he would discover. She raised her fist to knock on the weathered door, and as she did so, the door creaked opened.
She turned to face Henry and said, "I'm going in to do a sweep and I need you to stay out here, okay?"
"Understood," he said as he slightly raised his hand and nodded. Having known the man's past charges, he knew harsh drugs could make one extremely unpredictable. He couldn't allow her to enter alone, not when the possibility of an unpredictable man who may or may have not committed murder stood.
As she drew her weapon, she yelled, "NYPD! I'm coming in!" She entered the threshold and surveyed the area to make sure it was clear. It was filthy and trash littered the room, but it was clear. She then proceeded to check the next room. Henry, being the protective, caring man he is, silently entered the apartment to be there for her, to protect her.
After a bit of looking around, Henry entered what appeared to be the kitchen. This room was just as messy as the living room, but had a small table in the corner and other essential kitchen appliances, even the dreaded microwave. A shirtless man, Luke Daily, stood in front of the sink. It looked as if he were trying to frantically clean off a shirt covered in blood. Henry took a step closer to him, but before he could do anything, the man spun around from the sink and noticed Henry. He was obviously high and crazed on some drug. He was pale, sweaty, his eyes were dull, and he had blood on his arms and torso. Henry thought about talking to him, but there was no use in arguing with an insane man, even if it was drug induced. As a formerly accused insane man, he knew. Henry glanced over his shoulder and spied a gun on the counter. Having noticed Henry glancing behind him, he quickly turned around to see what it was. He immediately noticed the gun, scrambled to get it, and clenched it in his hands.
Jo, still in another room, presumably the bedroom, observed blood on the bed sheets. She was prepared to get him, so with her gun still raised, she traced her steps to finish searching the rest of the apartment. She quickly peeked behind the curtains in the living room to check up on Henry. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't there. She quickly went and searched the unobserved territory in the apartment to find him before he got himself into trouble, but what she didn't know was that he had already gotten himself into trouble.
"I didn't do it," said Luke quietly with the gun trembling in his hands, pointing it towards Henry.
"I believe you, but-" Henry spoke, but his words were cut off by the sound of three, distinct gunshots.
Jo heard them and ran towards it. The flight response in her kicked in. Her heart pounded, her lungs gasped for air, and her hands grew cold and clammy. Mind filled with fear, she ran for him. She had already lost someone close to her; she couldn't lose another, not today. By the time she arrived to the kitchen, Luke had already escaped through the back door. Although she contemplated chasing after Daily, she didn't contemplate for long. She collapsed near Henry, who had three dark wounds in his chest. Jo looked down at her unconscious partner and acted instinctively, not letting her emotions get the best of her. She immediately called the paramedics and had a BOLO put out on Daily. After managing to have found a pulse, she praised God. He had one, but it was weak, and his breathing was shallow. Miraculously, she had somehow hastily managed to find a towel among the mess to hold down on his injuries. For every second of every minute, Jo had managed to keep pressure on his chest until they arrived. While doing so, she ran her fingers through his dark, curly hair to comfort herself. She was on the brink of losing all control, but she managed to hold it together. It seemed like an eternity, but she was relieved when they had finally come to her rescue.
They had quickly and procedurally taken his limp body, put it on a stretcher, and loaded him into the ambulance. Before heading off, one of the paramedics asked if she wanted to come with him. Without hesitation, she came. After they closed the doors, they were off. The paramedics cut through his shirt to quickly address his injuries. They then proceeded to do their job by patching him up and attempting to stabilize him. While doing so, they tried talking to her to calm her down, but it was of no use. Their words went in one ear and out the other. She stared at his face, wondering if she'd ever hear him again. Having lost track of time, one of the paramedics had to shake her to snap her out of it. Quickly, she realized what was going on and stepped out of the ambulance. She was led to a waiting room and was told they were going to operate. They suggested she went home, seeing as how the operation would take a while, but she opposed and decided to stay there for the night. She had to make sure he was going to be okay, she just had to. It was my fault. I could have prevented all of this. If only I had made sure... I- I should've known better, she thought. Her mind was filled with fear and worry as she sat, anxiously waiting, and the rest of the world was just a blur.