Page 85 of Unnatural Death

“Really?” Marino angrily glances over at me as we reach the intake area. “They didn’t have a choice?”

“Legally they didn’t.”

“Fuck legally.”

“What would you have done?”

“I’ve never kept anything from you even when I should. I would have told you,” he says.

“I would have found a way to tell you too,” I admit.

“I feel like the rug was just pulled out from under us, Doc.”

“That’s because it was.”

“Bottom line? We need to be more careful than ever,” he says. “We’ll have to be for the rest of our lives.”

“Do you know how many times we’ve said those exact words since we’ve worked together?”

“Norm is hopeless.” Marino glares at the empty security office. “I tried to talk some sense into him, telling him he’s got to pretend he gives a shit. A lot of good it did. We should get rid of him and Tina both.”

“And replace them with what?”

“Cardboard cutouts would be better.”

“I intend to have a sit-down with the governor at the first opportunity.” I open the door leading into the vehicle bay, my car key in hand. “Roxane got me into all this. I don’t care what her political aspirations might be. She’s going to have to be more helpful. I want trained security who get paid worth a damn. I want loved ones, families allowed inside our lobby again. And the meditation garden restored so people have a nice place to sit outside when the weather’s good.”

“You need to ask her why the hell she created a dummy agency for Elvin and Maggie,” Marino says as we walk down the ramp. “What was she thinking? She needs to understand the problems those two cause.”

“I’ll bring it up delicately. Because I have a feeling there’s something unfortunate hiding under the rug.”

“You won’t be needing that.” Marino indicates the car key in my hand.

“I’ve been driving in snow for as long as you have …”

“Not after a day like this when you’re sleep deprived, Doc. The weather isn’t the biggest worry. What do you think she’s doing?” He means Carrie. “Probably watching and calculating

our every move, that’s what. I’m betting she’s behind whoever took out the Mansons. She’s behind everything.”

“Probably not everything.”

“I’d prefer if it was me taking you home. Nothing’s going to happen to you if I’m around.”

“That borders on magical thinking,” I reply. “But yes. I always feel relatively safe when you’re with me, Marino.”

“What do you mean,relatively?”

“I mean just what I said. And you’re not getting my key.”

I’m blasted by cold air as I open the pedestrian door that leads into the parking lot. A truck engine idles loudly, and I smell exhaust. Glaring headlights are blinding in the steady snowfall.

“That was a slick move,” I say to Marino. “I have to give you credit.”

“Evening!” Blaise Fruge is walking toward us, backlit like a rock star, the snowflakes big and thickly drifting down like feathers.

* * *

Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, Fruge wears her hair long on top and shaved short on the sides. She’s close to Lucy’s age and extremely buff, motivated by Marino, who took her under his wing soon after we moved here. They often work out together in the gym. Now and then they have a beer and talk about policing. She puts him on a pedestal and is cozy with Dorothy.

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