None of My Business, Lake, Someone (Requesting Recommendations!)

Where did Lake go?

The answer was obvious.

Lake had run off.

No…

To be precise, Lake had never entered New Amsterdam Hospital in the first place. He had been at a well-known police bar nearby, drinking with a group of buddies.

"Wow, wow, wow!"

"Chug, chug, chug!"

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Lake downed a large glass of whiskey in one go. The moment the last drop went down his throat, the bar erupted in cheers.

The officers who were off duty or hadn't received the news applauded Lake's performance enthusiastically.

Lake put down the glass, pressed it with his hand, and then said to the detective he'd made the bet with, "Hey man, remember, you lost. Don't forget the tab."

The precinct detective shook his head with a wry smile.

Lake's drinking capacity had always been legendary among his colleagues. After all, George Stacy, who was said to have the best tolerance, had been bested by Lake several times. Everyone had expected to see just how much Lake could handle today.

Unexpectedly…

Lake merely burped, then hopped onto a high stool at the bar and said to the blonde waitress, who was an eight out of ten in looks, "A glass of bourbon, please."

Lake actually preferred bourbon.

Whiskey?

Lake found that stuff a bit strange. Bourbon was tastier and made him feel the heroic spirit of a medieval Western cowboy.

The one who went to the hospital was a clone.

The clone's mission was complete.

Naturally…

He chose to end his existence with a self-inflicted gunshot.

The gunshot that Jack and the others heard after entering the ICU was Lake shooting himself in the head.

It really hurt.

The clone's senses were shared with the original body, which was why Lake had hesitated for a moment. Even now, Lake rubbed his brow, feeling as if there was a hole there.

But the outcome was good.

The person he wanted to kill was dead.

I knew no one could stop me from killing the person I wanted to kill. The person who reported the crime is dead. I want to see what other tricks the mastermind behind this has up their sleeve.

Lake's eyes flickered.

Half an hour later.

A police car pulled up outside the bar.

Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan walked in and, at first glance, saw Lake at the bar, drinking his glass of wine.

The other patrons in the bar immediately turned their gaze towards Beckett.

After confirming their identities as colleagues, they shifted their attention away. However, a few precinct detectives, holding their drinks, sat on the high stools at the bar with Lake.

They were there to provide an alibi for Lake.

Lake smiled and raised his glass to Beckett, "Hey, Beckett, want a drink?"

Esposito walked over, "Lake, nothing for me?"

Lake shrugged and said to Detective Allen from the Second Precinct, who was sitting next to him, "Yeah, Detective Allen just lost a bet to me. He's paying for all my drinks today."

Allen shrugged and made a gesture that clearly said, "Unfortunately, that's how it is."

Beckett breathed a sigh of relief, "You've been here the whole time?"

Having an alibi was good. He was worried Lake might not have anyone to vouch for him at home or might stammer his way through an explanation.

When Beckett heard a police officer mention that Lake was at a nearby bar, he had felt a surge of relief. After all, the bar was quite close to the hospital, giving him a window of opportunity to commit the crime.

Furthermore, Lake had a strong motive.

To confirm, Beckett asked again, "You've been here the whole time? For the past hour, you haven't left the main area of the bar, haven't gone to the restroom, or stepped outside to make a call?"

Lake patted his pocket, "You saying that reminds me, I was in a hurry to leave earlier and forgot to bring my phone."

Detective Allen from the Second Precinct gestured around the bar towards the colleagues inside and the blonde bartender, saying to Beckett, "All of us here can vouch for him."

Lake's eyes suddenly lit up, "Oh, right."

Beckett's heart sank, "What is it?"

Lake stood up from his bar stool, "I didn't feel anything just now, but now that you mention it, I really need to use the restroom."

Beckett: "..."

The colleagues in the bar were stunned for a moment, then watched Lake walk towards the restroom at the back of the bar, and they all burst into laughter.

Half an hour later.

NYPD.

In Montgomery's office.

Lake, sitting in a chair, rubbed his still aching forehead with some helplessness. "Boss, I'm suspended, and I'm not getting paid while I'm here."

Montgomery looked at Lake, who reeked of alcohol, and then asked Beckett, "Are we sure this guy has no alibi?"

Beckett nodded.

Lake chuckled and looked at Montgomery. "Captain, those officers are alive, aren't they? They can tell if it was me or not. Luckily, I was feeling down because you suspended me and went drinking. If I had been at home, I would have been completely screwed."

Montgomery's face was expressionless, and he didn't even glance at Lake. "What's the situation with the scene investigation? Did you find out how the killer left?"

Beckett shook his head. "The forensics team is still collecting evidence there, seeing if they can find any useful clues."

"What about those two people?"

"Dead."

Beckett said, glancing at Lake, then turning to Montgomery. "Chief, do you think someone might be trying to frame Lake with this?"

Montgomery rolled his eyes. "Then the killer this guy hired must be cheap."

Lake: "..."

You're the cheap one, your whole family is cheap.

Although I, Lake, am a freelancer who takes on jobs through crowdsourcing, I still have standards. I never take on ordinary jobs. I only have one principle for taking jobs: I only accept those over fifty thousand.

Small jobs under fifty thousand?

Heh.

I'll wait for the client and the target to bid against each other. Whichever one reaches fifty thousand first, I'll take their job. Honest and fair, 100% customer satisfaction.

Beckett frowned slightly.

Montgomery glanced at Lake, then said to Beckett, "The fact that those two guys are not seriously injured, or died for no reason, or are alive, that's the problem for our Detective Edwin. But if they're dead, and it's done so brazenly, killed right under the noses of a group of ICU doctors and nurses who witnessed it, then our Detective Edwin's problem is completely gone."

"That can't be right."

"What do you think?"

Beckett frowned. "Even if those two people are dead, what about the complaint against Lake for excessive force?"

Lake looked at Beckett. "Just to clarify, it wasn't excessive force. Those two were blocking my way and were about to make a move on me, so I took them down, one kick each."

Beckett rolled his eyes at Lake. I'm trying to help you here, you idiot.

Montgomery coughed and said, "You guys can tell at a glance that someone is trying to frame him. Don't you think we can tell too? As long as no one makes trouble, would the Internal Affairs Division dare to investigate him?"

Lake tilted his head and looked at Montgomery. "Captain, I'll bet you a thousand bucks, they will!"

Montgomery: "..."

Beckett: "..."