“An answer? Do you know what he was doing?”
“No. But it’s obvious. He tried to investigate something, the people found out—and they tried to kill him. We’ve got to find out what he was investigating.”
Dilessio stood then in an abrupt, fluid motion, belying any thought that he might have been anywhere near inebriated.
“We’ve got to find out? You’re not even a cop yet. And I’m homicide. Carnegie has this information, and, like I said, he’s a good cop. And if you do find out anything, you take it straight to Carnegie.” He exhaled a breath of irritated impatience. “Or tell me. Hell, just make sure you tell someone, and don’t go looking into anything yourself, understand? And don’t kid yourself. He might just have joined a bunch of rich club kids and gotten into dope. Whether you like it or not, believe it or not, it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”
She was startled to find herself almost pinned against the rail by him. He wasn’t threatening in any way, just determined. He didn’t yell or speak loudly. His voice was low, but the vehemence behind it was startling.
She lifted her chin, ignoring the lack of space between them.
“I can tell you right now, Stuart was on to something. Someone came after me in the garage tonight, after I went to see him.”
“What?” Puzzled, he backed away slightly.
“I didn’t realize there could be a connection, not until this very minute. But I was parked in the hospital garage. When I walked out to my car, someone came after me. I made it to my car and he disappeared. I had thought it was a random incident, that I just happened to be a woman walking alone in the garage when he was there. But maybe it was personal—maybe I was about to be attacked because I do know Stuart, because I spent time with him alone. And maybe whoever did this to him realizes that they didn’t succeed, that Stuart is hanging in and may wake up any day.”
“A person was after you…who? What did they look like? Vagrant? White? Black? Hispanic? Old? Young?”
She shook her head, sorry she had spoken. “It was someone in hospital scrubs. And a surgical mask…. I can’t even say if they were male or female, though I have a feeling it was a man.”
“You were chased by someone in hospital scrubs—at the hospital?”
She exhaled on a note of impatience. “Yes.”
He was silent a long time. Moments in which she became aware of the very little bit of distance between them. He smelled of a recent shower and the sea breeze, along with a whiff of beer. His skin was bronzed, his chest swirled with dark hair, and his muscle structure was clearly evident. His face, that great face for a drawing, was enigmatic. She didn’t know what lines she might have made with a pencil then. She wasn’t breathing, she realized. She forced herself to do so. Being close was difficult, made more so by his size and something kinetic he seemed to create in the air around him. But then he shook his head, still so close.
“Look, you shouldn’t go creating scenarios just because your friend is hurt and you’re on edge.”
“I didn’t create the scenario. It happened. I filed a report.”
“Then you shouldn’t go to the hospital alone anymore.”
“I’m going to be a cop.” Actually, maybe she wasn’t, not soon anyway. The forensic position did seem too good to turn down. But she wasn’t about to tell Dilessio that now.
“But you were scared tonight.”
“I wasn’t expecting any danger at the hospital. I wasn’t armed.”
“And you weren’t scared enough, maybe,” he said, suddenly angry.
“Why does a conversation with you always turn into a fight?” she demanded.
“This isn’t a fight. I’m just trying to teach you how not to be a fool.”
“What’s your problem with me?”
“I don’t have a problem with you—except that you’re an arrogant beginner with the illusion you’re the only one out there who gives a shit or can make things happen.”
She felt as if she were turning into a pillar of ice. She didn’t blink but kept her eyes on his. “Gee, thanks. Well, thanks for the help, Detective. Excuse me. I think I’ll call it a night.”
“I’ll walk you back to Nick’s.”
“You don’t need to. I’ll be inside in two minutes.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“Why?”
“You thought you were being followed tonight. Cops watch out for cops, Montague.”
“Great. Should I walk you back to your boat afterwards? We can just keep walking back and forth all night.”
“Listen to yourself. You haven’t listened to a single warning I’ve given you.”
“What do you expect from an arrogant beginner with delusions of grandeur?”