Crow's Nest [✓]

Part 2 - Chapter 22

Thomas jolted out of his sleep, his phone's insistent ringing pulling him back from the depths of slumber. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep, and reached for his phone with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

He answered the call with a groggy, "Hello?"

The news was a shock, the sleep clearing from Thomas's mind in an instant. He sat up in bed, his senses now fully awake. "What? Johnathan is dead? How?"

The call from the police station provided not only a jolt of adrenaline but also a grim realization: their investigation had taken a deadly turn. The puzzle of Syflocyl just grew more complex.

Johnathan had been found dead in an alleyway a few streets away from The Rusty Nail. He was hit over the head with a heavy object and was found with other minor injuries such as bruises over his face.

The realization hit Thomas like a cold wave, the details of the call fully sinking in. Harry had not only spoken to Johnathan but had interacted with him directly, had even gotten into a fight. The timing was too close to be a coincidence.

Thomas's concern deepened, the gravity of the situation fully settling in his gut. He hung up the phone and got out of bed, determination etched onto his face. He needed to find Harry.

Thomas headed to Harry's room, his footsteps urgent and heavy. He knocked on the door, calling out Harry's name. "Harry! Wake up, we have a situation!"

He waited for a moment, hoping to hear some movement from the other side of the door.

After a few tense moments, the lock clicked, and Harry opened the door. He stared at Thomas, his eyes blinking away the remnants of sleep.

"Thomas? What's going on?" Harry asked, clearly still waking up.

As Harry fully woke up, Thomas filled him in on the call from the police station, the tone of his voice urgent. "Johnathan's been killed. And you were the last one seen with him. I don't like where this is going."

Harry's face went pale at the news, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "What? No, no, I only just spoke to him last night!" He started pacing the room, running a hand over his buzz cut blonde hair, the bristles tickling his hands. "This doesn't make sense. I didn't kill him, I swear."

"Listen, Harry, I believe you," Thomas said, his voice steady and reassuring. "But we've got to be smart about this. The police might not see it that way. We need to go over to the station. We can't run from this."

He put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, hoping to ground him. "We're in this together, remember? We'll sort this out."

Harry nodded, the initial shock subsiding into determination. "Yeah, yeah, you're right, Thomas," he said, his voice gaining strength. "Let's head to the station. We need to clear my name and figure out what's really going on."

After quickly getting ready and dressed, Thomas grabbed his jacket and keys, and the two headed out, bracing themselves for what was to come.

While en route to the police station, Thomas and Harry made a quick pit stop at a small café. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sizzle of grilling sandwiches filled the air. Despite the gravity of the situation, Harry realized they hadn't eaten anything and could use a quick energy boost.

Thomas ordered two black coffees and two sandwiches, handing one to Harry in silent solidarity.

As they sat down with their refreshments, Thomas glanced at Harry. "Hey, can you run through what happened last night, step by step? The more details we can provide, the better."

Harry nodded. "Honestly, it's hard to forget," Harry admitted, a wry smile on his face. "My ribs have made sure I'm acutely aware of everything that happened. I could probably recite the whole night blindfolded."

He took a small bite of his sandwich, the act of eating somehow grounding him further.

When Harry explained everything to Thomas the night before, Harry mentioned how Jake had helped him.
"Yeah, and speaking of him," Harry continued, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "He helped me patch up the worst of the damage. Did a decent job, too."

He pulled up his shirt, revealing the area around his bruised ribs, which were now covered with bandages. The area was tender but appeared to be healing.

Thomas, finishing his sip of coffee, looked at Harry with a serious expression. "One more thing," he said. "When we get to the police station, we need to be completely honest with them. They're going to have a lot of questions, and any conflicting stories could put us both in a tough spot."

He paused, letting the import of his words sink in. "Got it?"

Harry nodded in agreement, appreciating Thomas's reminder. "Don't worry, I know the drill. Tell the truth, keep the story straight, and don't give them any reason to think I'm withholding anything."

He took another sip of his coffee, the warm liquid further calming his nerves.

They finished their coffee and sandwiches in relative silence, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. The police station was only a few minutes away, and with every passing second, the gravity of the situation sank in deeper.

As they got into Thomas's car again, there was no small talk, just the steady hum of the engine and the anticipation of what was to come.