“I kept going back, looking for that same sense of freedom, but I couldn’t recreate it, not like the first time. I had fun, don’t get me wrong, but the older I got, the more life and being a responsible fucking adult got in the way of my enjoyment. You can’t turn back time. You can’t be carefree and eighteen forever, no matter how hard you try. It took me a long time to realize that.”
“That doesn’t sound immature and impulsive to me.”
A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“What’s the whole story?”
I licked a finger and stabbed a few remaining crumbs off my plate. “Let’s just say it involved a rental car, too much alcohol, and a swimming pool. I broke up with tequila for good afterthat trip and decided I wasn’t going back. I’m still paying for damages, and I almost lost my job.”
Dominique looked intrigued, but the shame of the whole situation was unbearable. Why did I bring it up?
“Please don’t ask. The details aren’t important. The point is, the next time I travel, it will be with grown-up pants on and to somewhere historic with culture. I’ll go to museums and visit ancient ruins. No more beach resorts. No more tequila. No more bad decisions. Is scotch a nice guy? We don’t know each other well. He sounds sophisticated.”
“He keeps me warm on cold nights. I can’t complain.”
“See? That’s the kind of man I’m looking for. Tequila has a complete disregard for my health or well-being.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
“He truly is.”
Dominique stared for a long time with an edge of curiosity or wonder. For the first time since we met, he seemed properly engaged. Interested. Content.
I didn’t have a glowing track record when it came to life. I’d made a lot of mistakes growing up, partly because I’d had no one watching over me, giving me directions. Even when I lived at home, no one cared. I’d fought for everything from my education to my job, from securing a roof over my head to ensuring I had food in the fridge. I might have grown into a mostly mature and somewhat responsible adult, but there were plenty of days when it felt like the sixteen-year-old boy inside me was still struggling to find his way in a complicated world.
Dominique didn’t seem to mind the picture I’d painted, so maybe there was hope.
Desperate to shift the conversation away from my unglamorous youth, I tossed the ball in Dominique’s court. “How about you? Ever done stupid shit you regret?”
He huffed humorlessly and examined his empty coffee mug. “Haven’t we all?”
“Wanna share?”
He seemed to consider, then shook his head and changed the subject. “Did you get my report?”
“Oh. Yes. I meant to message you about that. Sorry I didn’t make it to the autopsy on Monday.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“I know. I wanted to be there, but we’ve been busy.”
Dominique pushed his empty plate aside and set his mug on top, and I got the sense thedatewas coming to a close. Especially if we were veering back to work talk. “Have you sorted anything out? With the case, I mean.”
“Still working through it. We spent much of Monday locating Jesse’s parents and delivering the bad news. That never goes well. We interviewed them. They were distraught, obviously, so we didn’t get as much information as we would have liked. Plus, Jesse was an adult with his own life, so they didn’t know much about acquaintances or relationships. Yesterday, we worked on getting an idea of who he was, where he worked, who he associated with, and so forth. Get this…”
I leaned over the table, lowering my voice. “Jesse Vargas attended the University of Ottawa. Same place Navid taught. He wasn’t in a medical program or anything, but still. It’s a loose connection. About the only one we could find. Also, he got kicked out of his program last year for trafficking drugs on campus, and this was after several accusations were filed with the administration. Inappropriate advances on female students.”
Dominique’s eyes darkened, and he pinched his lips together. The man was raising a daughter. I could only imagine the scenarios he was imagining that might lead to a man being killedand marked the way our victim was. I’d thought the same thing, and it soured my gut.
“I know,” I said, reading his mind. “Stabbed through the dick. Says something, doesn’t it? The asshole probably had it coming. Wanna bet he fucked with the wrong person? Rue’s convinced I need to stop assuming that we’re looking for a male perpetrator, and in this case, she might be right.
“Another thing. We found a criminal file for him. He was arrested once for possession with the intent to distribute, but before that, he was charged with assault. The report was filed by a woman he was dating before he got kicked out of school. For whatever reason, she ended up dropping the charges. We’re chatting with her this morning. I don’t know how, butyou knowhe and Navid are connected somehow.”
Dominique’s head bobbed as his gaze shifted side to side. The pinch between his brows was back. “Their deaths are similar with only small variations.”
“Exactly. Be honest with me, Doc. You’ve examined plenty of homicides during your career. What can you tell me about these two?”
He didn’t seem to understand what I was asking and rubbed a hand over his mouth as though he was reluctant to speak.
