“With your in-laws?”
“I’ve got it covered, all right?” he said testily. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”
“Because I obviously struck a nerve.”
“No, because the less you know, the better. For your own protection.”
“From what?”
“From Malone, Dylan. From Malone.”
“Why would I need protection from him?”
“Think about it. Why else would he have urged you to come to his restaurant, first time ever and on short notice, except that he found out I was seeing you, and that bothered him.”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m not conceding the point, but I can see why you might jump to that conclusion. As a detective, it’s your job to look for possible motives. That doesn’t mean you’re always right.”
“True, but let’s say that this time I’m spot on. He must be at least a little nervous that you, being an upstanding citizen, might relax your professional code of confidentiality, and, in the name of justice, share with me at least some of what he’s unloaded to you.”
“I wouldn’t. Iwon’t. I’ve told you that. I’ve told him that.”
“Yeah, but guys like Malone live with a chronic case of paranoia. What I think, Dr. Reede? Your patient is shitting bricks right about now.” He motioned toward her phone. “Open it and check for texts. Several came in while you were in the drugstore.”
“And you’re just now telling me?”
“There hasn’t been time. You’re the one who insisted on rendering first aid.” Ignoring her censorious look, he said, “I’m betting that you have at least one from Malone.”
Looking resentful, she tapped in her passcode. “There are three from the driver who was picking me up. I’m sure he’s wondering what happened to me.”
“Cancel.”
“I will, but only because he’s probably already headed back to Auclair.” She glanced toward his midsection. “And because you’re bleeding. Also because you’re deranged, a danger to yourself and others, and shouldn’t be left unsupervised. I’m licensed to make that determination, you know.”
“Unlicensed people have determined that, too.”
“Don’t you dare joke,” she admonished crossly.
“Wasn’t joking.”
She quickly sent the text canceling the car and using Venmo to pay. Then she cast a cautious glance toward Mitch. “There is a text from Roland.”
He leaned over and looked at the screen. “No name ID, but you obviously recognized the number. How often do you two correspond?”
She didn’t reply to that but opened the text and scanned it. “He apologized for abandoning me, asked if I am all right.” Looking at Mitch, she said, “I left during the dust-up in themedian without an explanation or a goodbye. Doesn’t it stand to reason that he would be concerned enough to text me?”
“It does stand to reason, so text him back. Tell him you made it home without incident and that you’re looking forward to a quiet, relaxing weekend. Thank him for the dinner. Sign off.”
“I would do that without you instructing me to.”
“Exactly. He would expect it. So, not to arouse his ingrained paranoia, make nice.”
“I’m not acknowledging that he’s paranoid,” she said as she typed the text.
Before she sent it, he said, “May I see?”
He took the phone from her, read the text, said, “Very good,” and sent it. But when she reached out to retrieve her phone, he held on to it, deftly took the back off, and removed the battery.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
