I Bet on Losing Dogs - Patrick Jane

308 - Ball of Fire

Weeks Before:

A well-built man in his late 50s walked into his two-story house. He took off his shoes and slipped on his house slippers. He walked into his living room and placed his finger on the light switch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Kenzie.

She sat in the dark on the man's lounge chair. She turned on the lamp next to her. The warm lighting glowed on Kenzie's face.

"Who are you?"

"Come on, Officer Johnson. I know I'm all grown up, but I could at least recognize me."

Officer Johnson's eyes narrowed. Recognition fell on his face. "Mackenzie."

"Ah. There it is. I figured you would recognize me. You should, since I made your career."

"Please. Just get out of my house."

"No. See, you and I are gonna talk."

Kenzie started to get up, but faint footsteps grew closer and closer.

"Honey, are you down there?" asked his wife.

A frightened Johnson looked at Kenzie.

"Answer her," mouthed Kenzie. "Make her go away."

"Yes, dear. I just need a few minutes to myself."

"Alright, honey. Just making sure. I'll see you later. I love you."

His wife's footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Officer Johnson let out a side of relief. Kenzie walked up to him.

"I know your grandchildren are up there. Now, as long as you cooperate with me, you should live enough to see them married. Now let's go."

🙂

"Please. Please stop."

Kenzie dragged Officer Johnson to his basement. She tied him to a chair and kept punching him when he said something she didn't like. Officer Johnson groaned in pain.

"You know, that's funny. If I remember correctly, that's what I said. You didn't seem to stop."

"I'm sorry."

Kenzie glared at him. "That's not how this works. Okay. Because somehow y'all made a 10-year-old girl, a child, framed for murder. Of her own father. Do you know what you did to me?"

"Listen, you think that what I did was wrong. I helped you. You needed help."

"I was 10! You were supposed to help me! And you didn't."

"You didn't look like a child when we arrested you."

Red. That's all Kenzie could see. Punch after punch. It's like she couldn't stop. At some point, she looked at her bruised and bloody knuckles. She looked at Johnson, who was limp in his chair.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

She raced up to him, lightly tapping his cheek. Nothing. She untied him and performed CPR. Agnozing minutes felt like hours. She let out a sigh of relief as she felt his faint breath.

She cleaned everything up, making sure there wasn't any sign she was in the house, and left. As soon as she was outside, she called 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hi. I heard some loud, concerning noises at 4392 Wilbur Road. I was wondering if you could do a wellness check."

"Yes. Well, the nearest police unit is on their way."