Lassiter sat on the edge of the dock, his feet dangling over the water. He stared blankly into the black depths, wondering vaguely how long he had before the tourists began showing up, shattering his absolutely perfect silence with their inane, cheerful chatter and damn speed boats.
He glanced down at his watch.
There was still an hour until sunrise.
An hour of silence…
"Lassiter!"
He looked up, startled by the jarring sound of his name being bellowed across the docks.
Henry Spencer was standing in the parking lot next to his truck, beckoning to him with a commanding urgency.
Lassiter groaned.
What the hell was he doing there at 5 o'clock in the morning?
He slowly stood up and began the reluctant trudge over to Henry, who didn't even bother greeting the detective as he approached.
"Take these," he ordered gruffly, tossing Lassiter a couple of fishing poles out of the back of the truck.
Lassiter caught them without argument.
"Going fishing?" He mumbled limply, hoping the stupid question wouldn't spark an actual conversation.
"Yeah," Henry nodded. "….If the damn tourists don't scare them all away first."
He grabbed the cooler and started to walk up one of the piers, glancing behind him to make sure Lassiter was following.
"My boat's over here," he grunted, turning back around before Lassiter could say anything else.
As soon as he reached the boat, Henry dropped the cooler onto the pier and stepped aboard. From the dock, Lassiter handed him the poles, then the cooler.
Neither of them spoke a word during the entire exchange.
Finally, once everything was arranged neatly in the boat, Henry turned back to the detective.
"You owe me 3,000." He said quietly.
Lassiter blinked.
If this was some kind of joke, it was too damn early in the morning.
"Excuse me?" He growled, his eyes narrowing.
Henry met his gaze unflinchingly, his face set into a stern mask.
"You owe me 3,000. For Shawn's bail."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"The way I hear it, the only reason my idiot son punched out a cop and got himself arrested for assault was so you wouldn't do it first."
Lassiter nodded stiffly.
There was no point denying it. Shawn must have told him the whole story.
"Then you owe me 3,000." Henry reiterated. "Not to mention what his damn lawyer is going to cost me…I could hold it over his head for the rest of his life, but let's face it. The kid's never going to be able to pay me back. He couldn't pay me back for a damn Happy Meal."
Lassiter stared at him in dumbfounded silence, searching Henry's face for some trace of humor or jocularity, but all he found was a stern, unwavering frown.
"Go to hell, Henry," he growled, finally deciding he was dead serious about this.
"No."
"I'm not paying you a damn cent!" Lassiter shouted. "I didn't ask your idiot son to punch out Brighton! It's not my damn fault he's a moron!"
"I don't want your damn money!" Henry shouted back.
Lassiter was completely confused now.
"Then what the hell—"
"You owe me." Henry shrugged simply.
"I owe you?" Lassiter returned with a derisive snort. "I don't owe you anything!"
"You owe me 3,000."
"I do not!"
"Then you owe Karen."
Lassiter's fists clenched instinctively at the name. He glowered at Henry, his voice suddenly low and dangerous.
"Go to hell."
"No." Henry crossed his arms firmly, swaying with the motion of the waves gently lapping against the boat. "You caught the son of a bitch who killed her, Lassiter. It was a clean bust. It's not your fault he pulled his gun."
"I know."
"Then stop making him the damn victim!" Henry shouted. "I know what Brighton is saying about you! That you were out for revenge. That you shot an unarmed suspect and dropped a gun to make it look like self-defense. If you let him take your badge without a fight, you're saying he's right."
"He's a moron."
"Of course he's a moron!" Henry snapped. "But that doesn't matter if you let him win! That doesn't matter if the son of a bitch who killed Karen gets to be the poster boy for police brutality. She deserves better than that. You know she does."
"I know."
"Then stop being an ass and get your goddamn badge back."
Henry gestured at the rope that held the boat to the dock.
"And toss me the rope." He muttered, glancing at his watch. "The damn tourists are going to be out soon."
