Kenzie, Cho, Teresa, and Patrick are in the shorter, cops-only security line. Kenzie sighs, bored out of her mind, waiting to get through the front. Patrick pointed to a woman in a red dress in the civilian line.
"Red dress. Go. Guess," said Patrick.
Cho eyed the woman carefully, "She's... allergic to perfume?" He quickly turned to them. "It's a good guess. She just sneezed."
"She's having an affair. Next?"
"Huh? Wait a minute," said Kenzie.
"An affair? You just made that up," claimed Teresa.
Patrick quickly pointed to others in the line. "Hiding a terminal illness, about to propose to her girlfriend, and... about to quit his job. That or kill his boss."
"Made. Up."
"Not at all. You see, the woman in the red dress has a peculiar–"
Kenzie turned around to see a man dragging something behind him, leaving a trail of smeared blood behind him.
"My attitude toward life determines life's attitude toward me; got a job to do; ya gotta do it right..." muttered the man.
"Stop where you are," said Kenzie, drawing her gun. Teresa, Cho, and a couple of other agents draw their guns on the man.
That something he was dragging was a knotted-up blanket with a young woman inside. She had a gunshot wound to the arm. The man blinked and laughed.
"Whoa! Make a federal case out of it, why don't you?"
The man held a blanket in one hand while the other one thrust into a pocket. Rigsby and Van Pelt quietly walked in behind him with their guns drawn.
"Drop it," demanded Cho. "Drop the blanket!"
"Show us your hand, sir; we have to see your hands," said Van Pelt.
"Show us your hands, or we'll shoot," said Rigsby.
"Wow, that's gratitude for you," said Carl.
"Put it down," exclaimed Teresa.
"Let go and put your hands above your head," said Kenzie.
Kenzie inched forward. Her eyes didn't leave Carl's hand in his pocket.
"I bring you a gift, and this is how I'm treated?"
"Sick bastard..." muttered Rigsby.
"What gift," asked Patrick.
"Sir, you don't want to die today, do you? Put your hands up, now."
"I dragged this for three blocks, Lady?"
The man was mad and made a fist in his pocket.
"Take the shot, Boss. Take it..." softly said Rigsby.
"Show me your damn hands!"
"A man stands up for himself. I will not be walked all over!"
Carl took a step forward. Kenzie drew her safety down and placed her finger against the trigger. Patrick stepped toward Carl, blocking Kenzie's view of Carl.
"Patrick!"
He examined the man's face. "Red eyes, dilated pupils – you on drugs, Mr...?"
"Resnick. Carl Resnick," said Carl. "I don't do drugs. Crack is wack."
"Hey. Look over there."
Carl looked where Patrick was pointing at and Patrick took Carl's wrist, causing Carl to absently drop the blanket.
YOU ARE READING
I Bet on Losing Dogs - Patrick Jane
Fanfiction"I bet on losing dogs, I know they're losing, and I'll pay for my place by the ring, Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, ...
