Page 21 of Deja Who
No, she decided, looking him over.He’s not my killer. Though it’d be a rich irony if he were, if I were slashed because in my arrogance I didn’t see him as a threat. It’d serve me right, and then some.
“I don’t—” He took another breath, straightened, put his hat on. “I don’t understand how you candothis to people.”
He left without another word—and that happened sometimes, too. There’d be this big blowout scene and Leah would be prepared to defend herself, or unleash the forces of good (or at least the security detail), and then they’d just sort of deflate and wander off.
Regardless, Deb made sure he was off the property, security confirmed, and Leah flagged his chart and updated her clinic notes. It was unfortunate, and not uncommon. Just as car salesmen didn’t always advocate a new car for everyone, Leah didn’t think Insighting solved everyone’s problems every time. It was an unfortunate truth she’d been facing since she was old enough to understand it.
Her ten o’clock was a woman who had been a vestal virginin 114 BC and again in 19 AD. Both times she had been wrongfully accused of having sex with a Roman citizen, which was considered treason, both times the accusations were false but she’d been found guilty due to the enormous political turmoil at the time, and both times she was buried alive, which was the traditional reprimand for treason (trumped up or otherwise).
As a result, she was a claustrophobic sex addict.
“Oh, Marcia,” she sighed. “Again?”
“Swear to God, Ms. Nazir, the cops justwaitfor me.”
“They really don’t.”
“They do!”
“This is Chicago. The police have better things to do than follow you around and wait for you to indulge in acts of public lewdness.”
“Nope! They’ve got nothing better to do than spy on me and wait for me to—to be attacked by my own disease and do stuff they know I can’t help. Buncha pervs. With all the porn out there for anyone on the Internet, they’ve gotta lie in wait for me?”
“Marcia.”
“I’mthe victim!”
“Marcia.”
“And the poor guy I was with. He’s probably a victim, too. Mark, I wanna say? He looked like a Mark, right?”
“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia! You were busted having carnal relations in the dugout at Wrigley Field. The police take a dim view of such things. And also the public, presumably.”
“It’s not like it was the World Series or anything.” Her patient sulked. “Not even the playoffs.”
“Still.” Leah forced herself to soften her tone, though the urge to hit Marcia with her tape dispenser was strong. This wasnot her first arrest for sex alfresco.“I understand you have a disease—multiple diseases—”
“That’s right!”
“—but it is not and should never be a free pass.”
“Oh, here we go. You’re one to talk, Ms. Nazir.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Insighters get away with everything.”
“That is not true,” she said sharply, though an internal wriggling pricked her conscience. She hadn’t had to talk to a cop, post-stabbing. There had been no police report, and likely would not have been even if Archer had been inclined to press charges. Which, for some reason, he had not. “And if you have a problem with what I do for a living—which is strange, since you’re here of your own free will—I encourage you to seek help elsewhere.”
“No you don’t! You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Yes, well.” Leah, who had been prowling back and forth, sat behind her desk. “Worth an attempt. I have to write you up for this, Marcia, and I have to decide what to recommend to the DA. My inclination is to lock you up somewhere—”
“Hey!”
“—you can get help, somewhere good like Chicago-Read—”
“Good? Really?” Marcia, who had the hips and butt of an anorexic teenager and the breasts of an artificially augmented porn star, spun so fast her chest took an extra second to catch up. “You’re gonna lock me up to be starved to death?”
