Complexity

Chapter Eleven.

*Ring...Ring...Ring...*

Corrick groaned, grabbing the phone. Who the hell was calling him? Hesitantly he picked it up,

"Yello?"

"Corrick, I need your help now!"

Corrick squinted, trying to connect the voice to a person.

"What?"

"God damn it, Corrick, it's Jean! I went to her place and she's...Corrick for the love of God, get your ass here now! I need help!"

Andddd that's Nguyen, isn't it?

"Alright, alright! I'm on my way, just...calm down."

Corrick slammed the phone down and grabbed his windbreaker, quickly getting up from his chair, jogging out the station. He sprinted to his car, getting in, before putting the pedal to the metal.

He arrived at the house, quickly making his way inside since the door was left wide open. He glanced around before hearing voices coming from upstairs.

Probably Nguyen and Fish up there. He thought to himself.

He quickly flew up the stairs before making his way into the bedroom, seeing Dominic's figure peering out from it. He made his way over beside Dominic, spotting Jean.

"Jesus Christ, what happened, Fish?" Corrick crouched down.

Jean had a stab wound in her right shoulder, seemingly obtained out of self defence. At least, that was Corrick's guess. He'd seen many self defence injuries before and this looked no different from them. Regardless, it didn't look good and judging by Jean's pale face and exhausted expression, she'd lost a lot of blood.

"You stay and figure out what happened, I'm going to find something to hold off the bleeding." And with that, Dominic rushed out of the room.

Corrick sighed, "Alright, I need you to tell me what happened, can you do that?"

Jean looked as if she was almost panting, struggling to breathe, "Guy...broke in. Tall...knife...stabbed me. Took ring...left."

Her pained expression worried him. He hadn't worked with Jean a long time but for the time they had worked together, maybe around a year or more, he'd grown to enjoy her presence. Without her in the station, he'd probably be in worse shape. He didn't want to see her die or anything.

"Okay, tall and a guy. Can you give me anything else?"

"Black clothes...black mask. White guy..."

Corrick nodded, grabbing for his radio, "We got a 219 at Oakwood and Pine. Victim's a female in her 30s. Suspect fled the scene, be on the lookout for a tall white guy wearing all black. He's got a black mask too. He may be armed with a knife."

Dominic rushed back into the room, holding a cloth. He placed it against Jean's shoulder, she winced at the feeling, "It hurts, I know but I'm gonna keep pressure on it until actual help gets here."

Corrick's fingers tapped against the radio impatiently, he needed someone to take the call and get Jean the help she needed.

"10-4. En route to 219 at Oakwood and Pine."

Corrick sighed a breath of relief hearing his radio go off.

"Okay, Fish. Help's a-comin'. You're gonna be just peachy, yeah?"

Jean slowly nodded. She looked tired, like hanging on was hard for her. Shoulder wound's typically won't kill you but...Jean looked horrible. He glanced back and forth from Jean's expression to Dominic holding the cloth on her wound. The cloth started off as white but now was turning red, more so a crimson red.

"The ring."

Corrick's ears perked up, "What?"

"They took Jean's ring and nothing else."

Corrick glanced at Jean's hand, no ring. Dominic was right. Corrick hadn't paid much attention to what Jean had said earlier about her ring, he was more so focused on having her not die on him. But, why just the ring? Couldn't they have taken the T.V, wouldn't that have been way more expensive than her ring?

"You don't think..."

"That Reichter has something to do with this? I wouldn't doubt it."

"No..."

Both men turned, facing Jean. No? Was it not Reichter? Was it a random attack with such a specific item taken and nothing else?

"It wasn't him...he wouldn't..." Jean's breathing began to worsen.

"Jean, calm down. Just stop talking." Dominic attempted to shush her.

"No it wasn't...he..."

"Jean."

"I..."

She stopped talking...

And she stopped breathing.

"Jean? Jean?!"