Mal kept his expression bland. “I would, but I have a teleconference with my old boss in the NYPD tomorrow about wrapping up my last case. If I missed it, he’d be on my doorstep in minutes.” Yeah. No way would Isaac want that happening.
“Our duty always comes first.” Isaac leaned forward. “After that discussion, are you finished with your case?”
“Yes. Everyone has pled out, and they just need my final statement.” Mal sighed, as if relieved. Which he kind of was. “Then I’m out. No more going undercover and pretending to be somebody I’m not. It’s been so long, I’m not even sure who I really am.”
“This could be a place for you to figure that out.” The guy really did have a soothing voice.
Mal looked around. “I don’t know. I’m not much for gardening and meditating all day.”
“Meditation is important, but gardening, not so much.” Isaac shared a smile. “I think with your background, you’d be vital in other areas.”
Mal finished his drink. “Like what?”
“All in good time.” Isaac stood, grasped the bottle, and returned to refill Mal’s glass.
“Does my involvement come with April?” Mal let his voice slur just a little, as if his guard was coming down. It was easier than he thought. How drugged was he?
Isaac chuckled. “That’s up to April. But she does seem to like you, and she can be very generous with her ... time.”
A timid knock barely sounded on the door.
“Enter,” Isaac murmured.
A woman walked in, and it took a second for Malcolm to place her. He recognized Pippa’s mother from those early photographs. Blond hair and the same blue eyes. His heart rate tried to speed up, but the drugs kept him nice and calm.
“I’m so sorry for interrupting.” The woman had to be around forty-five. Beautiful and fragile-looking. Was she ill? “Mrs. Thomson is talking about returning to her husband, and I thought perhaps you’d like some time with her.”
Isaac sadly shook his head. “Her husband beat them both so badly. Please keep her occupied for a little while. I shall speak with her when we’re finished here.”
The woman bowed out.
“She’s pretty,” Mal said, tilting his head. “Very.”
“Angel is also available and very skilled in relaxing a man after a hard day’s work,” Isaac murmured. “In fact, I think she and April enjoy each other’s company as well. Would you like me to ask them to have dessert with you later?”
The idea of sleeping with Pippa’s mom nearly made him shudder. “No, but thank you. She seemed unwell to me.”
“Sometimes God punishes us,” Isaac said easily. “She will heal. I’m sure of it.”
So Pippa’s mom was sick? Did he have a duty to tell her that somehow? Or did she already know? He wiped a hand across his eyes.
“Headache?” Isaac asked.
“Yes.” Mal’s temples were starting to thrum as he came down from whatever they’d given him. At least it wasn’t long-lasting.
Isaac moved forward on his chair. “Close your eyes. I can help.”
This was weird. “All right.” Mal closed his eyes and forced his body to relax.
Isaac pressed his fingers to Mal’s temples and then placed his thumbs against Mal’s closed eyelids. “Some of us are special, Malcolm. I’ve been given gifts I can’t understand, but I want to help.”
Lights flashed across Mal’s closed eyes, and a sense of calm washed through him. Jesus. What the hell was that?
Isaac released him and sat back.
Mal opened his eyes. He blinked. “I feel better.” What kind of experience had he just had?
Isaac smiled. “Of course. Now, before April takes you back to that apartment that’s not worthy of you, would you please do me a couple of favors?”
