Tag rubbed his good hand over his jeans. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. Then he gestured apologetically at her bruises. “As okay as possible.”
She went to brush her hair back from her face and fumbled the gesture as she found none. Instead she rubbed her earlobe and looked around the small ward.
“I thought I would be buried by today,” she said. “Dead. Instead I’m here. That’s okay enough.”
Tancredi caught Tag’s eye and tilted her head in a done-here gesture. He acknowledged it and stood up. His ribs hated him.
“If you need anything—”
She shook her head and smoothed cotton down over her leg. “I take care of myself. You do the same.”
Apparently, even without the threat of the Brothers, she wasn’t that easy to help. Tag shrugged. “Even so,” he said. “You know where I work.”
She nodded her acceptance of that much, and then Tancredi ushered Tag back out into the hall.
“Sorry,” she said. “Until she’s out of here and settled somewhere, we don’t want to risk anyone who says the wrong thing. For her sake as well as for the case.”
Tag nodded. “I guess you’ll get in touch with me when—”
“The DA will.”
“Okay.” Tag paused. He had tried, quite hard, not to care. It should have been easy. It wasn’t as though there was a bedrock of foundation to even care about—a couple of dates, more sex, a phone full of dirty videos… and the fact that he suddenly couldn’t sleep without the weighted blanket of another human being on him. “Have you heard anything from Bass? Nico, I mean.”
“Detective Sebastiani?” Tancredi said. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that. It was always a risk to use his real identity and a fake history, but ideally no one in the Brothers would have ever realized that. Unfortunately Shepherd did, which means that, until the trial, Sebastiani’s life is in danger.”
Or, Tag translated for her,it’s your own fault.
“You think I should have let Shepherd die?” he asked.
Tancredi glanced sideways at him. “You did what you thought was right,” she said. “But it would have been easier if he died before the paramedics got there.”
“First, do no harm,” he said.
“You didn’t shoot him,” Tancredi pointed out. “You just could have not helped.”
She wasn’t wrong. It just didn’t matter. Over the years Tag had treated plenty of people who didn’t add much to the world with their existence. Some he’d been able to tell by the neo-Nazi ink on their skin or the bruises on their partner’s, but some he’d probably thought were easy, pleasant patients. He treated them anyhow. No one would have blamed him if he hadn’t done his best to save Shepherd’s life—not even Tag, if he were honest—but what about the next asshole who beat his wife? Or threatened to attack one of the doctors who saved his life, because they were gay, or a woman, or a black woman? Would he be able to convince himself he had no choice but to treat them too?
“I’ll bear that in mind next time,” he said.
Tancredi tugged at her braid and snorted. “Fingers crossed there won’tbea next time for you,” she said. “It’s my job, but local doctors shouldn’t be taken hostage more than once a decade. Or, from what I hear, forced out of their home?”
“Annoyed out,” Tag corrected with a shrug. “Eggs on the door, late-night calls, and a few anonymous letters.”
Ten letters, all text speak and bluntly unimaginative threats. He’d refused to be scared off by someone who spelledmutilateasmutl8. It was the note on a scrap of lined paper that someone left on his pillow, with his bus number and time on it, that convinced him to go.
Bass had said his locks were shit.
“Apparently a lot of people around there liked the Brothers,” he said, “or want the Brothers to think they did if this doesn’t take.”
“Look,” Tancredi said as she fished in her pocket. “My mom’s a real estate agent, and I know there’s a couple of places she’s struggled to get off the market this summer. If you drop me a line later, I can get you an address. She’ll cut you a deal on rent, so it’ll be cheaper than a hotel, and she’ll be happy that the house isn’t standing empty.”
She handed him her card.
“I have about ten of these,” he reminded her as he took it.
“Do you know where any of them are?” she asked. Tag couldn’t argue with that, so he tucked the card into his jeans. “Seriously, check in later. You’d be doing her a favor.”
“I can pay,” he said.
