Ronnie Masters | the MENTALIST (COMPLETE)

RUSSET POTATOES : pt II

CONTENT WARNING: Rape/SA

Rick Tiegler, assistant lecturer to Dr. Royston Daniel at the Model Life Clinic, was brought in by Lisbon after taking one look at the highly malleable Carl Resnick and diving headlong up a flight of stairs, a maneuver that landed him firmly at Cho's interview table.

"I'm not talking about Carl. I don't know anything about him." He was starting off strong with denial.

From her usual spot, Ronnie examined his strung out, uneasy body language and tried to ignore how cold she suddenly seemed.

She couldn't help feeling like she knew the guy. He looked familiar, the narrow slant of his eyes and the sharp lines of his jaw and high cheekbones, and she could have sworn she'd heard the dulcet tones of his voice before, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't place him.

"Ok," Cho relented, leaning against the glass and crossing his arms tightly. "Let's talk about your job. Agent Rigsby asked around at the Center. Everyone says you're Dr. Daniel's number one guy."

Tiegler had an airy, earnest look about him as he smiled hollowly at Cho, his palms flat on the table. "I'm proud to assist Dr. Daniel. And I'm good at what I do. That's what the model life is all about."

"If anyone could put the hex on Carl Resnick, it's you."

Instantly, Rick started fidgeting. He picked at his sleeves, his breathing coming fractionally faster. He flashed an anxious look at Ronnie and then quickly redirected his stare to his hands when she raised her eyebrows sharply at him. "I wouldn't say that, no."

Cho watched his body language change quietly, his eyes tracking the nervous man's movements. "You ever try your stuff on Mary Beth Hendrix?"

The denial burst out, full force again. "I'm not talking about her, either."

Again, Ronnie got hit by a rush of nostalgia, but still couldn't place why he was so familiar.

"Are you a drinker, Rick? Would you like one now?" Cho glanced at his partner and then took a seat at the table and laced his fingers together.

Tiegler gave a little laugh and then looked to Ronnie as though she was going to jump up and fetch them all a round of beers. "You offering?"

Cho was not amused. "No."

Tiegler's empty smile fell, his shiftiness returning with a vigor. "I'm not a drunk. I'm just under a lot of stress."

Of course he was under a lot of stress. He was chained to a table being questioned as the number one suspect in a murder case.

Ronnie pulled her jacket more tightly around herself.

You're not cold.

It's hot in here.

Cho's got his sleeves rolled up again.

It's hot in here.

Cho had his blank stare pinned on his suspect. "I understand. Were you drunk when you killed Mary Beth?"

"I didn't." Tiegler shot back calmly.

"That's right, you didn't. But if something happened when you were drunk, it means you had diminished capacity. It means you're not responsible like you normally would be." Cho spoke in a low, gravely voice meant to encourage openness and trust, but at the moment all it was doing was distracting his partner.

He always talks to suspects like he's trying to offer the sweetest comfort.

Usually when he's lying to them, but still.