"Get that thing away from me, will you?", Mike complained half-heartedly and gently pushed the overweight raccoon away from his dress shoes, torn between bewilderment and pride in his partner's ingenuity.
A few chuckles from the other officers ensued and Steve bent down to cradle the racoon in a tight hug, having a hard time straightening back out with it against his chest while the vermin licked the side of his neck in a strange sort of embrace.
"He's very friendly, actually. I was able to catch up with him before he could crawl down the embankment."
"It's a racoon.", Mike reminded him sternly, cringing when the animal used its long fingers to play with his partner's tie, "Just…put it away somewhere, tie it to a post. I don't know. Let's worry about Ricky because his pet won't tell us anything about Reverend Joe's death."
"Oh, but maybe he will…", Steve countered cryptically before rubbing the raccoon's head amicably, "As I see it, Ricky is going to be out of his mind without his beloved emotional support animal. As a matter of fact, I bet you he is hanging around nearby right now, trying to figure out how to get him back. After all, he can barely see and needs Linus by his side for comfort."
"So, you want to set up a trap? Leave him tied out here like the cheese in a mouse trap?"
"I was more thinking the opposite. You're up for a game of good cop- bad cop, Lieutenant?"
When the frown on his forehead only deepened, Steve let the racoon back down and nudged his partner to follow him across the street, completely aware of the several dozen or so onlooker who begrudged their presence and didn't shy away from vocal insults.
"I was just thinking, if we threaten to kill the racoon if Ricky doesn't hand himself in, we might just coax him out of his hideout."
Trying not to step on Linus who was walking between them, Mike reached for his partner's elbow and forced him to slow down and glance up.
"Wait a minute here. What have you had for breakfast this morning? You want to cause a lynch mob with all these angry stares around us already?"
"Well, state law prohibits the ownership of racoons and upon discovery, they would normally be euthanized.", Steve explained matter-of-factly while nervously playing with the leash in his hand, "Now I have no interest in pursuing such charges and drastic actions but I figured we could use the law to bluff him out of his hideout."
"Bluffing, he says…", Mike mumbled, not exactly thrilled about his partner's idea, "We have no way of knowing if this is going to work. And I am not going to pull the trigger on that animal."
"It will work. And no, I don't think Linus deserves the death penalty because of his owner. The chili idea almost worked, let's just see how far we can go with that. If it works, you owe me dinner. Besides, the guys are already mad."
Sighing deeply, Mike glanced around, grateful to see the patrol units staying in place and awaiting his next order. Some of the homeless men had grown bored and moved on, while a few other groups still remained, voicing their displeasure loudly.
"They're going to be a whole new level of mad the moment you pull that gun.", Mike argued, trying to ignore the happy chit chat coming from the other end of the leash.
"I didn't say I was going to pull my gun.", Steve countered reassuringly, "The guy is almost completely blind, it wouldn't do any good. But we already put all that work into tracking him down, if we let him off the hook now, you'll never see his face again and you know that."
"That's a bad plan…", Mike grumbled, unable to come up with anything better but knowing they would ultimately only make things worse.
"I'll face with the consequences if this goes south. Just play along. Please.", Steve pleaded determinedly this time around and waited for Linus to jump up the curb onto the sidewalk before facing his partner.
With a hesitant nod, he gave his approval and watched Steve approach a concrete ledge to a maze of bushes, young trees and discarded building materials some ten feet below.
The old footprint of an apartment building hadn't been touched in over a decade, serving as the communal dumping grounds these days, the city's sole reaction being to put up a few pieces of chain-link fencing that weren't connected to anything, along with the rail to keep unsuspecting pedestrians from falling into the hole.
"Alright Rick, we know you're hiding somewhere out here. We really need to talk to you again and we're getting really sick and tired of chasing you across town."
The words seemed foreign as they came out of his partner's mouth, so unlike the gentle nature he'd gotten to appreciate in Steve. Perhaps Lenny had been right about one thing. Being in the epicenter of the Osorro case had scarred both of them deeply, their wounds just gradually appearing in the shape of edginess, mood swings and out-of-character actions.
"We also know that Linus here is an illegal pet. It's against the law to have a racoon as a pet. If you don't hand yourself in, I am going to drive him over to the next veterinarian and have him put down."
Mike flinched at those words, grateful that the traffic noise behind him misconstrued much of what was said to their angry audience.
Keeping a few feet of distance between them, he glanced around, hoping to see any sign of Ricky but only meeting furious glares from the other side of 16th.
Beyond the crackling of police radios in back and the happy chitchat of a raccoon on the sidewalk ahead, a critter who had no idea he was the star in a hostage situation, Mike shook his head at the ridiculously grotesque scene playing out in front of him.
And he certainly loathed having to put any of this into a report at one point, probably warranting another visit from Lenny.
"Listen, I don't want to kill this raccoon if I don't have to. I am willing to overlook the fact that he's being illegally owned if you hand yourself in so we can talk to you about Reverend Joe. But this offer won't last forever. We already have Albert in custody. So, I am giving you one minute to turn yourself in, or the raccoon gets it."
Or the racoon gets it, Mike mouthed with a fervent headshake, suddenly missing his .38 in a situation that had the potential to spiral horribly out of control if an angry mob from the other side of the street decided to meddle in their affairs.
It was a bad plan and he begrudged every second of it. But Steve had been right about one thing; Ricky would never reappear if they didn't apprehend him now.
Beneath the shudder running down his back at the thought of what repercussions would await him from the latest plan, Mike sighed in relief when he saw his partner's rigid shoulders sink slightly, the hand holding the leash less tense, his eyes following something ahead that seemed to put his mind at great ease.
Add that to his growing list of worries for the day, the Lieutenant mused; find a suitable place to buy his partner dinner.
