Chapter 009: Detective Jason.

The shrill cry of an ambulance cut through the stillness of the neighborhood as it sped away, carrying its grim cargo. A lone dog whined, its mournful sound echoing in the empty street. Fairfax stood there, counting silently. Thirteen. Thirteen bodies he'd seen stuffed in the house, now gone.

George approached him, his hands resting on his hips, a mask pulled tight over his face. "Well, this certainly puts a damper on the whole 'plague' theory," he said, his voice gruff as he watched a few unmarked cars pull up in front of the house.

Fairfax didn't turn his head. "What theory?"

"The one about this being a plague," George explained, a touch of exasperation in his voice. "A plague wouldn't cram bodies into closets, Charlie. This is something... someone, to be exact. Or maybe an animal? But I doubt they'd be neat enough to arrange the bodies after killing them."

Before Fairfax could reply, the doors of the cars swung open, and several men emerged. Their boots crunched on the gravel driveway as they marched towards them. The leader, a man with a steely gaze, stopped in front of George.

"Sheriff Edgar?" he asked, his voice laced with authority.

George nodded curtly. "That's me."

The man extended a hand. "Detective Jason, at your service. These are my partners."

George shook his hand, a hint of forced cheer in his greeting. "Nice to meet you all."

Jason continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're from the Upper District. This situation here has gotten some attention upstairs, and we'll be taking over the investigation from this point forward. Hope that's alright with you, Sheriff?"

It was clear George's approval didn't matter much to Jason. Still, George plastered a thin smile on his face. "Absolutely. This case needs the best people on it anyway."

Fairfax knew George had poured his heart and soul into this investigation for weeks. The whispers of a plague had spread like wildfire, but no one had any concrete answers. Solving this case could mean a major promotion, something George desperately craved. Bringing in the big guns from the Upper District was a clear sign that headquarters wasn't messing around.

"Good," Jason said, his gaze flickering to Fairfax before turning back to George. "Then let's get started." He gestured for his team, and they all disappeared into the house.

As they walked away, Fairfax turned to George, a frown creasing his forehead. "You could have fought for it, you know."

George shot him a withering look. "Are you serious? That's Detective Jason from the Upper District. You poking your nose in their business is a surefire way to get yourself demoted to traffic duty." He let out a defeated sigh.

Fairfax didn't hide his confusion. "Who exactly are these people from the Upper District?"

George threw his hands up in exasperation. "Seriously, Charlie? You went through the academy and don't even know this? It's like cop training 101."

Seeing the blank look on Fairfax's face, he groaned in frustration. "They're basically the gods of the police department. Not literally, of course, but you get the idea. We answer to the government, and so do they, but they operate in the shadows. Untouchable. Unseen. But everyone in the department knows they're there, pulling the strings."

Fairfax grimaced, his gaze lingering on the empty space where Jason had disappeared. "Let's head back," George said from behind him. Fairfax nodded silently and made his way back to his car.

As he pulled out of the crime scene, his eyes darted to the sleek black SUVs parked beside his beat-up patrol car. Yeah, those were definitely the kind of wheels he wouldn't mind having. He followed George back to the station, parking in the garage with a sigh. Inside, he trailed behind George, sensing the storm brewing beneath his stoic facade.

Sure enough, George slammed his office door shut a little too forcefully, muttering a string of curses under his breath. He ran a hand through his beard, his knuckles turning white. "Damn it all," he growled.

Fairfax, already perched on a chair, tilted his head. "You can trust them, George. They're brought in for a reason."

George scoffed. "Yeah, a reason I don't like. My gut tells me handing this case over was a big mistake."

Fairfax sighed, his gaze landing on the untouched bottle of water on his desk. He grabbed it and offered it to George. "Water might help, sir."

George shot him a withering look that could curdle milk. Fairfax shrugged and set the bottle back down, unfazed.

"Look," George said, planting his hands on his hips, "I can't just walk away after pouring everything I have into this. Those suits don't belong anywhere near this investigation."

Fairfax opened his mouth to argue, but George cut him off. "You said myself, I can sit back and let them solve it, bring some peace to this mess."

The intensity in George's stare made Fairfax feel like a fly caught in a spiderweb. "Or," George continued, a dangerous glint in his eye, "we keep an eye on them. Find something, anything, to kick them off the case."

"The Upper District, George," Fairfax reminded him cautiously. "They're not exactly known for appreciating nosiness."

"We won't be nosy," George countered. "Just... discreet. Observing. Isn't that what you're good at, Charlie?"

"Sir-"

"Think about it," George interrupted, leaning forward in his chair. "Promotion for both of us once I crack this case. Consider it an order." He straightened up and walked around Fairfax to his own chair, collapsing into it with a heavy thud. "I'll keep you updated on their movements. And you, Charlie," he added, his voice taking on a hard edge, "you better find something to use against them."

Fairfax stood stiffly, patting down his pockets as if to confirm he had everything. The weight of George's dismissal hung heavy in the air. He turned and left the office, a leaden feeling settling in his stomach. Great, a spy. He glanced at the clock – it was nearing evening.

Walking out to the garage, he slid wearily into his patrol car. The engine groaned in protest as he turned the key. Two hours until his first night shift. He took a deep breath and pulled out, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.