Page 9 of Hard to Kill

Screw him. Game over. I put the ball on the table and leave it there. That’ll show him.

Jimmy finishes his beer, then asks me one more time if I’m sure I saw who I thought I did in Mineola.

I didn’t get that good a look at the guy, I tell him, but it sure looked like Nick Morelli to me.

“Who knows, maybe it is a day for the walking dead,” Jimmy says.

“Gee, there’s a lovely thought on which to build a night of romance.”

“Too much information,” Jimmy says, and leaves.

I’m on my way up the stairs to start getting ready for my date when there’s a knock on the door.

When I open it, Jimmy’s standing there.

“You forget something?”

He wordlessly hands me his phone, so I can see the text on the screen.

I still owe you 2 one.

Uncle Joe

I hand Jimmy back his phone, asking, “Who knew you could get cell service like this in hell?”

SEVEN

BEN COMES THROUGH THE door with a bottle of wine along with the lamb chops he’s going to grill, fingerling potatoes, a salad he gave in and bought premade at Citarella. When we’re settled in on the couch, Rip on the floor in front of us, wineglasses on the coffee table, Dr. Ben wants to know why I haven’t been answering his calls, and where the heck I’ve been all day. He really does say heck. And darn sometimes. And gosh. Me, I can swear like a champ. He hardly ever does. Part of his all-around niceness. He’s too good for me and keeps finding new ways to prove it.

I don’t tell him about my visit with Dr. Sam. I do tell him about the trip to the courthouse.

“Boy,” he says, “you sure know how to show yourself a good time.”

“What can I tell you? I’m a complicated girl.”

He leans over and kisses me. “And one who looks beautiful tonight, let’s get that on the record right now, counselor.”

“Liar.”

“Nope, I’m a doctor. Our motto is do no harm, especially not with flattery.”

“Down boy.”

“You talking to me? Or Rip?”

He asks if I want him to heat up the grill. I tell him there’s no rush.

“How did he seem? Jacobson, I mean.”

“Worried, frightened. Maybe a little of both. He thought he was in the clear, and now this. I haven’t seen the evidence, but there must be enough to charge him.”

“Will he get bail?”

“With another charge like this right on top of his trial? I doubt it. And he’s a flight risk even if he does make bail.”

We both sip wine.

“But he’s not your problem, right?”

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