Page 38 of Devil's Due

“Thermometer,” he said. “Disposable.”

Oh. She put her hands in her lap and waited, wondering idly what the thing was saying. Manny’s expression was unreadable.

He reached down and peeled it off and mutely turned it to show her. The red line had reached a marker that read 100.2 degrees.

“No?” he asked.

Her reflex was to snap backI’m fine, but that was stupid, and it was rooted in fear. She swallowed, closed her eyes for a few seconds and considered. She felt hot, but not really sick. Tired. Had a slight ache in the back of her throat.

“All right,” she said calmly. “I have a fever. Some muscle aches. I could sleep for a week. But Manny, those aren’t necessarily symptoms of anthrax. They’re just as likely to be reactions to stress.”

He nodded, dropped the thermometer in the trash and returned to the safety of his chair. He leaned back, still watching her.

“You need to rest,” he said. “Let the antibiotics work. And go see your doctor, today.”

“You have the results of the tests?”

“The culture’s still cooking.”

“If it’s anthrax, what are my chances?”

“Excellent. You got on antibiotics right away. You just need to take care of yourself.”

She took in a slow breath. “Does Pansy have a fever?”

He shook his head, and the tension gathering in her stomach lessened a little.

“No symptoms at all?”

“Nothing. I’m watching over her,” he said, and went quiet again for a few seconds. “I want to talk to you about Ben McCarthy.”

Of course. Manny knew Ben; in fact, he had more loyalty to Ben than anyone except Jazz. “Go ahead.”

“You can’t trust him.”

She sat back, surprised. It clearly cost him to say that; his expression was deeply unhappy.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “Ben … Ben means a lot to me. I mean, he’s—I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Ben. I wouldn’t be anywhere. But—” She watched him struggle for words, with no impulse to help him along. “He manipulates people. Women.”

She smiled slowly. “Manny, you’ve just described ninety-five percent of the men I’ve ever met, if you insert the wordstries to.”

“No, I mean …” He ran his hand through his curling dark hair and left it looking just a bit mad-scientist. “I don’t think he’s telling us everything. There’s something wrong here, Lucia. Jazz doesn’t think so, but I do. You should watch out.”

“It’s all right if you just don’t like him,” Lucia said. “You don’t have to, you know. You can owe him your life and still not like him.”

Something flickered over Manny’s face.

“I died,” he said quietly, and curled his hands into loose fists on the wooden top of his desk, as if he wanted to keep them from doing anything foolish. “Seemed like I died, anyway. I was down there in the dark, all that dirt on top of me, running out of air. Screaming until I couldn’t scream anymore, with that tape running, the one of his last victim. He tied me up so I couldn’t breathe much. So that every move I made pulled the rope tighter around my neck. I had a choice—I could lie there quietly and suffocate, or I could try to get loose and strangle.”

“Oh, no, Manny,” she whispered. She hadn’t known.

“Over forty hours. You know what it’s like to run out of air? You get a headache. It just gets worse until it kills you, until you can’t breathe, until you’re nothing but a gagging animal. And when I tried to struggle, the rope was like his hands, like his hands around my throat.” He swallowed hard and wiped his forehead. “All my life I thought I was smart, but he showed me that when you’re down in that hole, smart doesn’t mean shit. You need someone else. Someone else. Anyone else.”

“Manny—”

“Ben dug with his bare hands, you know. With his bare hands, while the other cop went to get shovels. I was dead. He gave me mouth-to-mouth to bring me back. I’m alive because he dug me up and made me live.” Manny raised his eyes and fixed them on hers, fierce and angry. “Ben’s the hand of God to me. You know how much it costs me to tell you not to trust him? You think I don’tlikehim? How do you not like someone after that? I love him, and screw your smug attitude!”

He was angry. She’d never really seen him angry before—scared, sure, but this was different. He stood up, and she did, too, feeling a little worried. But he stalked over to the door and jerked it open. Made a jerky after-you gesture, head bent. She went to the stairs and walked down them, aware of his bulk behind her. There were no code panels on this side of the barriers. Manny could always get out.

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