Page 46 of Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
“Well—”
“Not cool, Doc Baker!” Goddamnher arms itched. She groaned and scratched as the pieces started to fall into place with near-audible clicks. “You knew it was me followingyou, but you still let me walk right into the morgue.” A new thought struck her, one almost as staggering as the realization that everyone in the Crisp and Gross Funeral Home thought she killed her friend, then went to town on a bunch of folding chairs a decade later. “Jesus, no wonder you lost your shit when we ran into your family at the dog park! You weren’t worried about how it upset your routine; you were worried that you’d introduced your niece to a psychopath!”
“In this case, I think sociopath would be more—”
“Not now, Tom!” She stared at him, panting a little because the rant had left her out of breath. She now had to reexamine every moment they’d spent together and… it didn’t look good. “Is that why you haven’t tried to kiss me again?”
“No,” he replied quietly. “I haven’t tried to kiss you again because, one way or the other, you’re just passing through. Because that’s all you do: pass through.”
She decided to brush that aside for now and ponder it later, when she couldn’t sleep. “So all of it—meeting me for breakfast and then dinner and coming with me here… telling me those stories to keep my interest and pretending you liked me a little—”
“Not just a little,” he replied quietly. “And not pretending.”
“Shut. Up. All that… so did it work? Did you find out I killed her?”
“Inconclusive.”
She just looked at him until his gaze dropped. “Inconclusive. Okay. Well. For the record—since that’s all this is—I’ve never killed anyone. Not once. Not ever.” She groped in her purse, found the car key which wasn’t a key
(Ugh, I miss keys.)
and randomly pressed the thing until her door unlocked itself. She started to climb in and paused for a last look back.“It was nice to meet you, and I wish I never had. You have a lovely family, and I felt privileged to meet them. Now go fuck yourself.”
“Ava…”
“Captain Capp.”
That gave him pause, she saw at once, and his expression was that of an unhappy man being yanked in two directions.
“It’s my own fault,” she told him. “I read too much into it.” Way, way too much.
“Cap—”
“Good night, Dr. Baker.”
She was in such a hurry to slam the car door (mostly to get away from the Crisp and Gross Funeral Home but also to get the last word) she almost closed it on her leg. She withdrew her limb like a startled tortoise (but faster), started the car, resisted the urge to run over Tom, and got the holy fuck out of there.
Twenty-Four
THE LIST
Fuck it
Fuck everything
Once she’d gotten a good cry out of the way, Ava wasted no (more) time returning her union rep’s call. To her relief, Jan answered on the first ring. “Oh, hey, Jan. Didn’t think you’d be in this late.”
“How is it that you never remember I’m in California?”
“Because I don’t care about you, or your work, or anything you do.”
A gusty sigh over the connection. “Finallyone of you ungrateful jerks admits it. How are you, Ava?”
Jan’s warm sarcasm was already making her feel better. “PCP-free and ready to get back. What’s the scoop?”
“Passed with flying colors. That last test was seriously whiffed. Even the vitamin C deficiency was a false positive.”
Relief made her knees buckle. Not that she’d worried a lab test would show anything harder than Advil. But once upon atime, that wasallshe worried about—whether she could pass a piss test—so it had stirred up some dark memories.
