tray of food in front of her. Gilday, bandages on his face, entered the cafeteria and walked over to Kane.
“Hey, Emma.”
“Hey, Jeff, how are you?”
“Just scratched,” he replied, “cement chips from the ricochet. Gerry got a chunk of it in his arm, but he’s all right. They’re gonna cut him loose soon.”
“Good,” Kane said, toying with her food.
Thorne entered the cafeteria carrying a tray loaded with food. He plopped it down across from Kane, sat and started to dig in.
“Hospital food, it sucks. It’s so bad it’s a wonder anyone ever gets well,” Thorne said as he chewed.
“Hey, Thorne. Guess who I ran into upstairs, checking on Gerry?” Gilday said.
“Who?”
“Captain Forsythe.”
“Yeah? Did he look constipated?”
“Now that you mention it, I think he did, yeah.”
“Good.”
Gilday watched Kane for a moment before nodding good-bye. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys at HQ.” Thorne and Kane nodded back to him and Gilday left.
They sat alone for a moment with the only sound of Thorne chewing as company. Thorne reached for the salt just as Forsythe walked by the doorway of the cafeteria, stopped and stared at them. They stared back.
“Fucking cowboys,” Forsythe shook his head and continued on his way.
“He does look constipated,” Thorne remarked. He ate in silence for a while.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Kane asked finally.
“About what?”
“About me, losing it. Not taking the shot. We’re always supposed to take the shot. I had the shot. I got the shakes and didn’t take the shot.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Should I say something?”
“You usually do. Isn’t this where you say something nasty about me being weak and girly and that they shouldn’t send a woman to do a man’s job, some kind of shit like that?”
“Hey, if you say it then I don’t need to. We nailed FunnyPants, that’s the only thing I care about.”
“Seriously? You’re not going to nail me with some smart-ass sexist remark?”
“Not right now. I’m on a shoot-a-serial-killer high,” Thorne said. “But don’t worry, I’ll get around to it later. Right now I just want to eat and enjoy my buzz.”
“Well,” Kane said after a moment, “there is one other thing. You saved my life. Thank you.”
Thorne looked at Kane, chewing. He swallowed and smiled at her. “That must have cost you, having to say that to me.”
“It does, you’re right. I wasn’t looking forward to it.”
“Well, don’t let it go to your head. There wasn’t anything personal about it, I just didn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork involved if you got yourself killed.”
“I should’ve known.”
They sat in silence. Kane pushed the food on her plate around with a fork.
“You were really on fire about Robertson. If we hadn’t have beaten him back here to the hospital, he’d be sitting behind a lawyer and a decent alibi.”
“He’s small potatoes,” Thorne grunted.
“Still, it was good to see you get going. I was beginning to wonder if all the talk about you was just that, talk.”
“You know what I’m wondering about?” Thorne asked.
“What??
“You.”
“Me?”
“You. Gonzo cop, attitude and balls to spare. Says so in your file.”
“You read my file?”
“I read your file. Expert marksman, black belt, the works. Smarter than most, too, at least according to all the tests they give you rookies these days. It also says that while you were working undercover in DC, you shot and killed three men.”
“True. So?” Kane shifted a bit.
“So why now the shakes? Hotdog like you? Never saw that coming.”
“I thought that you knew everything.”
“I didn’t say I knew everything. I said that I’m always right. There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Knowing everything is knowing everything,” Thorne said. “Being always right is knowing what you KNOW, knowing what you
“Hey, Emma.”
“Hey, Jeff, how are you?”
“Just scratched,” he replied, “cement chips from the ricochet. Gerry got a chunk of it in his arm, but he’s all right. They’re gonna cut him loose soon.”
“Good,” Kane said, toying with her food.
Thorne entered the cafeteria carrying a tray loaded with food. He plopped it down across from Kane, sat and started to dig in.
“Hospital food, it sucks. It’s so bad it’s a wonder anyone ever gets well,” Thorne said as he chewed.
“Hey, Thorne. Guess who I ran into upstairs, checking on Gerry?” Gilday said.
“Who?”
“Captain Forsythe.”
“Yeah? Did he look constipated?”
“Now that you mention it, I think he did, yeah.”
“Good.”
Gilday watched Kane for a moment before nodding good-bye. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys at HQ.” Thorne and Kane nodded back to him and Gilday left.
They sat alone for a moment with the only sound of Thorne chewing as company. Thorne reached for the salt just as Forsythe walked by the doorway of the cafeteria, stopped and stared at them. They stared back.
“Fucking cowboys,” Forsythe shook his head and continued on his way.
“He does look constipated,” Thorne remarked. He ate in silence for a while.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Kane asked finally.
“About what?”
“About me, losing it. Not taking the shot. We’re always supposed to take the shot. I had the shot. I got the shakes and didn’t take the shot.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Should I say something?”
“You usually do. Isn’t this where you say something nasty about me being weak and girly and that they shouldn’t send a woman to do a man’s job, some kind of shit like that?”
“Hey, if you say it then I don’t need to. We nailed FunnyPants, that’s the only thing I care about.”
“Seriously? You’re not going to nail me with some smart-ass sexist remark?”
“Not right now. I’m on a shoot-a-serial-killer high,” Thorne said. “But don’t worry, I’ll get around to it later. Right now I just want to eat and enjoy my buzz.”
“Well,” Kane said after a moment, “there is one other thing. You saved my life. Thank you.”
Thorne looked at Kane, chewing. He swallowed and smiled at her. “That must have cost you, having to say that to me.”
“It does, you’re right. I wasn’t looking forward to it.”
“Well, don’t let it go to your head. There wasn’t anything personal about it, I just didn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork involved if you got yourself killed.”
“I should’ve known.”
They sat in silence. Kane pushed the food on her plate around with a fork.
“You were really on fire about Robertson. If we hadn’t have beaten him back here to the hospital, he’d be sitting behind a lawyer and a decent alibi.”
“He’s small potatoes,” Thorne grunted.
“Still, it was good to see you get going. I was beginning to wonder if all the talk about you was just that, talk.”
“You know what I’m wondering about?” Thorne asked.
“What??
“You.”
“Me?”
“You. Gonzo cop, attitude and balls to spare. Says so in your file.”
“You read my file?”
“I read your file. Expert marksman, black belt, the works. Smarter than most, too, at least according to all the tests they give you rookies these days. It also says that while you were working undercover in DC, you shot and killed three men.”
“True. So?” Kane shifted a bit.
“So why now the shakes? Hotdog like you? Never saw that coming.”
“I thought that you knew everything.”
“I didn’t say I knew everything. I said that I’m always right. There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Knowing everything is knowing everything,” Thorne said. “Being always right is knowing what you KNOW, knowing what you
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