Crow's Nest [✓]

Chapter 13

They arrived at the hospital, the sterile, antiseptic smell of the place filling their nostrils. They made their way through the corridors, their shoes echoing on the linoleum floor until they reached the room number where the victim, Lucas Anderson, was currently staying.

Harry never liked hospitals. It was a place you went to, to either get better or die. It creeped him out. Thomas on the other hand didn't show signs of discomfort when they entered the hospital. Harry noticed how calm Thomas was when talking to the nurse at the front desk, meanwhile he was already wishing the visit was over.

They pushed open the door to the room and stepped inside, their eyes immediately going to the young man lying in the bed. Lucas looked pale and small against the white linens of the hospital bed, his eyes closed. He looked peaceful while he laid there, as if he were just taking a nap. His parents sat in chairs next to the bed, their expressions worried and tired. Thomas and Harry approached the bed, their footsteps quiet. They stood next to the parents, trying to look as non-threatening and empathetic as possible.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson?" Thomas said gently, his voice low.
The parents looked up at the mention of their names, their expressions guarded. "Yes?" the mother responded, her voice wavering slightly.
Thomas took a moment to collect his thoughts and then spoke, his tone considerate. "I'm Detective Thomas Crow, and this is my partner, Detective Harry Hole," he said, gesturing to Harry. "We're here regarding your son, Lucas."
The parents exchanged a look, worry etched on their faces. The father, Mr. Anderson, spoke, his voice tight. "What about Lucas?"
Thomas chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset the parents further. "We understand your son was admitted here under concerning circumstances." He paused for a moment, watching the parents' reactions. "We need to ask you some questions about the events that led to him being here."
The parents looked at each other again, the mother's eyes watery. "You mean the drugs," she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. Mr. Anderson placed a comforting hand on hers, his expression serious.

Thomas nodded, knowing he had to tread carefully. "Yes, we think your son might have ingested a dangerous drug that's been putting people in the hospital recently," he explained.
"We're trying to figure out who's selling it and how it's getting to these kids."
The father's expression hardened, anger seeping into his eyes. "We had no idea," he said, his voice gruff. "He's always been a good kid. We didn't know he was doing drugs."
"It's not your fault, Mr. Anderson," Harry cut in, his voice firm but gentle. "No one ever expects their kid to get into drugs. But now that we know he's been using, we need to know who gave it to him."
Mrs. Anderson's eyes darted between the detectives, her hands wringing in her lap. "We don't know who he got it from," she said, her voice quiet and strained. "He hasn't been himself lately. Distracted, secretive. We thought he was just being a teenager, but..."

The implication hung heavy in the air; the parent's unspoken fear. Thomas nodded, his eyes sympathetic. "It's not unusual for kids to hide things like this from their parents," he said gently. "They're scared, embarrassed. But anything you can tell us about his friends or his activities in the last few weeks could be helpful."
Mr. Anderson sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Lucas has a few friends, boys he grew up with in the neighborhood," he said, racking his brain to recall any information. "They've always been a good influence on each other. It just didn't seem like they'd be the type to get into something like this..."
Harry nodded in understanding. "It's hard to tell sometimes," he said, his voice measured. "But sometimes, even the best of kids can fall into bad company. Do you remember any new friends he made recently? Anyone you never saw him with before?"
The parents shared a look, both racking their brains.

Mrs. Anderson spoke up, her voice soft. "There was one kid, a new one. I remember Lucas mentioning him once or twice," she said, her brow furrowing in thought. "I think his name was... Johnathan, maybe? Johnathan something."
"Johnathan," Thomas repeated, jotting down the name in his notebook. "Did he mention anything else about Johnathan? How they met, what they did together?"
Mrs. Anderson shook her head, her eyes on her son's still, pale form. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice filled with both worry and guilt. "We don't know much about Johnathan. Just that Lucas started hanging out with him pretty often the last few weeks. They'd disappear together for hours at a time. We didn't think... we didn't know."

Thomas gave Mrs. Anderson a reassuring smile, trying to offer what comfort he could. "It's not your fault," he repeated. "You couldn't have known. But this information is helpful. Do you remember anything else? Any strange patterns in Lucas's behavior lately? Odd phone calls or texts, late nights, anything like that?"
Mr. Anderson spoke up then, a hint of anger in his voice. "Actually, yes," he said, his brow furrowing. "Now that you mention it, a couple of weeks ago, I heard him on the phone in his room late one night. The door was closed, but I could hear him whispering. It sounded like... like he was trying to hide the conversation from us."
Thomas and Harry exchanged a glance, their interest piqued.
"Did you hear anything he said during the conversation?" Harry asked, leaning forward slightly.
Mr. Anderson shook his head, frustration evident in his features. "No, not really," he said, his tone laced with regret. "I only heard his side of the conversation, and it was all hushed whispering. Couldn't make out any actual words."

Thomas nodded, signalling to Harry that they had enough information for now. Harry understood the signal, glancing at the parents one last time. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," he said, his voice sincere. "We'll do our best to get to the bottom of this."The parents nodded, their expressions still worn with worry and fear. Mrs. Anderson reached out to take her son's hand, holding it tightly in hers. "Please find whoever did this to him," she said, her voice quivering. Thomas handed her his card. "Please call us the minute he wakes up. We need to ask him some questions." Mrs. Anderson nodded, taking the card from Thomas and clutching it tightly. "I will," she said, her eyes flickering between the detectives.

"We appreciate your time," Harry said, a note of finality in his voice, signaling that it was time to take their leave. Both detectives gave a respectful nod to the parents before turning to exit the room.