“You seriously canceling camp?”
“Unless someone steps up and—”
On a long, hard sigh, Clay interrupted. “Just cut through the fu—” He stopped himself, glanced over his shoulder to catch the kids watching every move, and went on. “Cut the crap, Sheriff. What’s the plan? I mean, you got some kind of syllabus or something?”
“Could work on that. Been doing the camp for about twelve years now, so I don’t need one, but I could put one together for you.”
Running a hand through his hair, Clay ignored the imploring looks focused on his back and closed his eyes. Jesus, what the hell was he getting himself into?
“Starts now?”
“Yes indeed,” said the older man, the twinkle in his eyes no doubt visible from outer space.
“How’d you manage this and your job for twelve years?”
“Always found somebody willing to pick up the slack.”
“Some poor asshole like me, huh? Pay better be damn good,” he said before heading out to his truck for a change of clothes, to the cheers of a dozen rabid children.
* * *
After her last patient was gone, George let Cindy and Purnima go and had just closed up when the phone rang. She let it go to voice mail the first time but decided to answer when it started up again. As she waited, she thought she heard thunder rumbling outside. Every single patient had mentioned the weather today. The weatherman had apparently called for rain, and George could feel it in the way her body hummed with energy, despite the exhaustion.
“Clear Skin Blackwood,” she answered.
“Oh, good. I’m glad I caught you. This is Jessie. Listen. Something happened.”
George’s pulse spiked. “Okay.”
“My guy finally got back to me.”
“Your guy?”
“Remember, the call you wanted me to cancel? Too late.”
A lump formed in George’s throat, but she swallowed past it. “Go ahead.”
“My contact says that your guy is a wanted man.”
George shook her head, over and over and over, like a windup doll that couldn’t stop. “Not possible.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not… I can’t tell you why I know this, but he’s just not.”
“It was a weird call,” Jessie said. “He phoned a couple hours ago, but I had to rush to court and…he sounded wired.”
“What do you mean?”
“He asked me where I was. Like, right then.” She shook her head. “And that’s a weird thing to do, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I…I had mentioned that a contact was asking about a Sultans tat, said it might have been spotted in the area, wanted to know what info he could give me about anyone with that kind of ink, and he freaked the hell out. I mean freaked, asking me all sorts of shit that I just couldn’t answer. He then…” Jessie swallowed, sounding flat-out worried. “He said he’d get someone to see me ASAP, and the problem, George, is that I’m not supposed to hide information about any cases. I mean, I work with the courts and the police and…it’s my job. I can’t just make up some probationer because they’ll want to interview him.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. But wait, it gets worse. I’m driving home, and he just called me back and said they were following a lead. He mentioned tattoo removal and asked me about doctors in the area. He was aggressive in a way I didn’t like.”
