“No. Mary promised to call me after the angioplasty.”
“Did you and Andrew sleep well?”
“One of us did,” he said wryly. “You? Nice PJs, by the way.”
“I found them in a drawer. I doubt they’re Beth’s. They’d be too large. And too ugly.”
The pajamas she was wearing were old and ugly as sin, but soft-looking, and baggy, and she looked adorable in them. He curved his arm around her waist and drew her to him. “I think they’re hot.”
He kissed her deeply while slipping his hand into the waistband of the pajama bottoms and squeezing her bare bottom. She hummed in pleasure and returned his kiss, but, before he was ready to release her, she laid her hand against his chest and pushed back. “Don’t start something.”
“Too late. It’s already started.” He bumped her middle so she could feel his arousal.
She made a little sound of pleasure, then said, “Andrew could wake up at any second and want his Fwoot Roops.”
He smooched on her ear. “He’s not a bad bed partner, but I missed sleeping with you.”
“We’ve only slept together for a few hours the night before last.”
“What can I say? You’re habit-forming. I’ll go into withdrawal when we leave here.”
“Which we must,” she said softly.
“Yeah. About that.” With a regretful sigh and adown, boyto his hopeful dick, he released her, then hesitated, watching her closely to gauge her reaction to what he was about to propose.
“I want to ask you for a favor, but I’m afraid it’ll piss you off if I even ask. After last night’s incredible lap dance, and the urge to lift you onto the counter and have my wicked way with you here and now, I’d rather us not be on the outs.”
Her cheeks blossomed rosily, but she responded with pragmatism. “You won’t know my reaction until you ask.”
“Come over here.”
He led her to a card table where he’d left his laptop to charge overnight. He dragged one of the other chairs over beside his, so that they both were facing the monitor, but he turned in his seat to address her.
“Consider me still your patient and keep this confidential.”
“You still are my patient. Confidentiality is guaranteed.”
“Okay. You know that for a while I’ve been surveilling Malone’s restaurant.”
At the mention of Malone’s name, she uneasily shifted her position, but nodded.
“I’ve also been observing the people who come and go. I’ve been taking pictures of them and have compiled quite a file. If by some miracle, Malone was indicted, and if by an even bigger miracle his boss’s identity was discovered, it would take nothing short of an act of God to get what I have on this computer admissible in court. As it stands, this file has little value.”
“I’m following you, Mitch, but I don’t know where you’re leading.”
“Will you look through them?”
“The pictures?”
“If you recognize someone whose name Malone might possibly have dropped during one of your sessions, you could indicate—”
“I won’t do that.”
“You don’t have to tell me what he said about the individual, just… just… if anybody in that file rings a bell, you could—”
“No, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Besides, he never talked about his associates, his friends, or enemies. If he has any, I don’t know who they are. I thought I had made that clear to you. I won’t know anyone,” she said, gesturing to the monitor. “I don’t know anything.”
“You might know something and just not know that you know it. The smallest remark, a key word, facial reaction—”
