That got him a snort. “What the fuck are you going to do?” he asked. “You’re a paramedic. You don’t have the money to pay them or the muscle to scare them off.”
Dylan clenched his teeth to hold in the exasperated noise that wanted to get out. It wasn’t like Joe was wrong after all. If this had been a mortal issue, Dylan wouldn’t have been much use against criminals. He couldn’texactlyexplain the leverage he did have, though.
I’m Santa Claus—that would end with him back in the hospital under an involuntary hold. Somerset would probably be thrilled, as long as he could break Dylan out on Christmas Eve.
“Maybe not,” Dylan said. He didn’t actually have a “but” prepared, but he hoped that once he started talking it would come to him. It didn’t. He hesitated as he groped forsomething…and the door behind him opened.
Somerset stopped in the doorway, one hand up to pop the collar on his coat. He raised one sandy eyebrow as he looked down at Dylan.
“And here I thought I’d have to come find you,” he said.
It galled, but…it would work. Dylan stepped out of Somerset’s way and made a quick “give me a minute” gesture as he focused on the phone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Somerset’s expression go from miffed to amused as he finished adjusting his coat.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not dating someone who has both,” Dylan said. “Joe. Trust me. Like you said, I always thought I was better because I helped people. Let me help Alice.”
Joe laughed. There wasn’t a lot of humor in the cracked noise…but there was a little.
“At least you admit,” Joe muttered. He took a breath and then let it hiss out through his teeth. “OK. OK, what do you want?”
“I need an address for Irene…” Dylan drew a blank on the name. It had been Alice who’d taken her details last night, since she’d reacted so negatively to him. A hand on the small of his back nudged him out of theJust-as-High’sdoor and onto the street. He absently cooperated with the guidance as he focused on the call.
“There’s a lot of those,” Joe said. “And I can’t do that. I’m not allowed to share that sort of information.”
“You’re not allowed to commit Medicare fraud either,” Dylan pointed out. “Irene was the patient we picked up last night. She was at the hospital last year too, the woman whose husband-to-be attacked her in the stairwell. I’m sure her surname is in—”
“In the settlement paperwork,” Joe said. He sniffed hard, a wet, muffled sound, and cleared his throat. “OK. I’ll see what I can do. Is that it?”
It seemed like a wasted opportunity, but Dylan couldn’t think of anything else.
“Yes, that’s all. Just the address.”
Joe grunted his agreement and hung up. Dylan listened to the dead line as if it was going to tell him something before he finally lowered the phone. On its way down he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the flat black glass of the screen. Except Dylan’s reflection didn’t usually boast horns and the glimpse of sharp teeth behind his lips.
Krampus. That made sense, if anyone had knowledge of the Naughty List it would be him.
The back of Dylan’s neck itched, and his shoulders tensed as he resisted the urge to look around. He already knew that Santa’s dark shadow wasn’t there. There was a flicker of a wink from the phone screen, and then it was just Dylan caught in the glass again.
He looked like…someone who’d been run off the road by a truck the night before. So it could be worse.
Dylan stuck his phone into his pocket and finally looked up to acknowledge Somerset.
“I—”
“Let me guess,” Somerset interrupted. “You didn’t listen to me and you aren’t going to stay out of my way to let me do my job?”
That did, pretty much, cover it, Dylan supposed.
“Are you going to try and stop me?” he asked.
“No,” Somerset said. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket as they walked, the snow globe fob dangling from his fingers, and hit the Unlock button. Ahead of them the lights on a silver-gray sedan parked on the side of the road flashed twice. “I’m going to make sure that if you’re going to do anything stupid, I’m there to make sure you don’t get hurt. Again.”
He stepped in front of Dylan and pulled the door of the sedan open. Dylan paused on the sidewalk despite the cold that pinched his toes. He chafed his hands together as he tilted his head to peer into the car. It was all charcoal leather and dash, with a reindeer-shaped air freshener dangled from the mirror.
Dylan recognized it as one of the ones from the North Pole’s fleet. He’d driven one for a couple of weeks, until he realized the convenience didn’t make up for giving Jars the opportunity to jerk him around.
“What happened to your truck?” he asked.
Somerset looked at him and raised his eyebrow a notch. “You bled all over it,” he said mildly. There was nothing mild about the look in his eyes. “Get in.”
