"You guys have some nerve!"
Mike wasn't surprised by the hostile greeting as they reentered the grungy bar that was mostly empty, even though Happy Hour was quickly approaching.
With nothing but owning an unregistered gun to charge Carigio with at the moment, he'd decided to let him go the previous evening; part of him hoping that the bar owner might inadvertently lead them straight to the shooter. So far, the unmarked unit outside hadn't reported any unusual activity, though that didn't mean much.
Forester flanked him to the right, as the duo walked up to the bar, ignoring the faint whispers from a couple patrons off in the corner.
"Anything wrong with a welfare visit, Chap?"
The Captain's cheery voice made the other man's frown grow even deeper, as he watched the intruders like a junkyard dog on point.
A heavy smell of whisky hung in the air, people drinking hard liquor way too early in the day. The growing rate of recreational alcoholism worried Mike a lot more than he cared to admit.
"This has nothing to do with a welfare visit.", Carigio sneered, as he poured another drink for a nearby patron, "It has everything to do with harassing the citizens of San Francisco just because you guys can't manage to catch your killer. So you walk across town trying to pin this crime on the first person that crosses your path."
"There's no need for hostility.", Mike replied cordially and sat down on one of the tall bar chairs, "Especially since we're here to help you get your neck out of the sling, Carigio."
Using his 5ft small frame to posture behind the safety of the bar, the man grunted in annoyance, before shaking his head, unable to stop a nervous twitch running through his body.
"You are lying. I talked to my attorney again and he said you can't charge me with anything besides owning an unregistered gun. What crimes are committed with it after the fact has nothing to do with me."
Feeling thoroughly proud of himself, Carigio moved his attention away from the two detectives and resumed to wash glasses in the small sink several feet over, the smug grin never leaving his face until Forester cleared his throat.
"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you, but, you see, since you never filed a report with the department when you realized that your unregistered gun was stolen, we are currently assuming that you supplied the gun to the shooter to carry out his task. After all, you have the motive, you had the gun, and you gave yourself a fine alibi by hiring somebody else to do the deed."
"You have no proof I did anything like that!", Carigio fired back and slammed a whiskey glass so hard against the wooden bar surface, that it broke in half.
"That's where you're wrong again, my friend. You have no proof that you didn't, and that's your actual problem here. And, as I am sure your attorney can attest, that brings you a 1st degree accessory to murder charge, possibly Murder 1 if we can prove you hired and paid the killer. Due to the severity of the crime, either way, you're looking at life in prison."
Forester's words, despite having been said calmly, seemed to only make Carigio angrier when the ill-tempered man stomped toward them again, both hands on his hips, sweat beginning to roll off his forehead.
"You dare to do that, and I will sue the city. I am going to have both of your badges by the end of the day. And I'll run to the press and let everybody know just how crooked the police department is."
Mike was about to reply when Forester squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, never losing the confident smile on his face. As his seasoned brown eyes scanned the furious man for a second, he fell quiet, intentionally causing the awkwardness to make Carigio insecure.
"My my, I guess your parents always gave you the ice cream without teaching you to say Thank you, didn't they? No manners whatsoever…", with an indifferent shrug, Forester surfaced a copy of their suspect lists, and tossed it on the bar, "I think it's time you reconsider your choice of words and tone of voice. See, where I come from Chap, we'd just hold you indefinitely until we decide what to charge you with. This nice Lieutenant over here however permitted you to return to your redneck bar to continue spouting bigotry undisturbed in the sanctity of this filthy hole, along with your toothless cheering squad back here, feeling good about yourself as you sell overpriced, watered down drinks. The least you could say is thank you, considering that you're still a suspect as far as I am concerned."
Carigio opened his mouth for another verbal attack, when Forester shhh'd him for a moment.
"Now, pardon me for being more direct than the people living here, but that's just how we roll in my hometown and I believe that for somebody with a dense skull like yours, it will be the best way to communicate. So, here's what I would do if I were you. See that list on your bar? It contains names of the people you spent that fateful weekend with back at the lodge. There are some others on there too, people who were camping nearby. Now you could take a long hard look at that list and help us narrow down who might be the person most likely to steal your gun. Because, just think, the sooner we find our shooter, the sooner he might admit that you had nothing to do with this mess and that he committed the mass shooting on his own free will. You could be off the hook and continue your narrow-minded hate speech and fascist fan club over here completely undisturbed. So what's it going to be, Nicky?"