No natural disaster strikes the city, though, and the roads are free of ten car pile-ups. Mason finds me twenty minutes behind schedule, covered in grease and dirt, looking beyond stressed as he turns his car keys over and over in his hands. “Where is she?” he demands. “I went by her room and the bed was fucking empty. I thought something terrible had happened.”
Mason stares at me, wearing a blank expression as I explain what I’ve done. I can’t tell if he’s happy I’ve found a work-around of sorts, or if he’s really mad that Millie is now the only living resident in the St. Peter’s morgue. He blinks once, and then blinks again. “Can you take me to her?” he asks.
I do. People sometimes do take the elevator down into the morgue, primarily so they can view the bodies of their dead loved ones and relatives, to say goodbye, but it’s not the norm. Mason doesn’t seem anywhere near sad enough to be in mourning as we ride down into the sub-level and exit, but the young nurse standing beside him gives him a sad, reassuring smile all the same.
Millie’s sitting up and talking to Bochowitz when we enter the room. Her eyes light up when she sees her brother, and Mason’s voice catches in his throat as he says hello. “I see you’re creating mischief as per usual, little Millie Mouse.”
She feigns annoyance, folding her arms across her body. “Am not. Mister Richard was telling me ghost stories. I wasn’t even scared, Mase. I listened the whole way through!”
Bochowitz looks a little sheepish as he stands from his seat by Millie’s bed. “Ahh, yes, well I may have gotten a little carried away with my stories as it goes. But I couldn’t help myself. Young Miss Reeves here is quite the little lady. Very brave indeed. Seemed like a shame to leave out the exciting parts.”
Mason offers out his hand to Dr. Bochowitz, who shakes his in return. “Thanks for watching over her,” he says. “And thanks for keeping her entertained. If she has nightmares, I’ll be sending her over to your place for you to deal with, though.”
“I won’t have nightmares,” Millie says. “I’m too old for nightmares.”
“Everyone has bad dreams sometimes, baby. Even grown ups.”
Millie looks stunned by this information. She wriggles down into her pillows and tilts her head to one side. “That’s not very fair,” she says. “Grown ups shouldn’t have to be afraid when they’re big.”
Mason lets out a shaky laugh, rocking his head from side to side. “Grown ups get scared all the time, I’m sure. All of us. We can just handle it better than little kids, Mill.”
The sweet little girl in the bed flares her nostrils as she pulls a giant lungful of air into her body. She looks from Dr. Bochowitz to her brother, and then to me, at which point she shakes her head. “You don’t get scared, Mason. You’re the bravest brother ever. You’re never, never afraid of anything.”
I can see her wanting to believe this so badly. If Mason never gets scared, then Millie knows her protector is brave and capable of taking care of her. Mason must be all too aware of this, too. He chucks her under the chin, grinning. “Fair enough. You caught me. I don’t scare easy, that’s for sure.”
I know the truth, though. Mason, like anyone in charge of another person’s wellbeing, especially a child, is scared all the time. If he’s like any of the other parents who walk the hallways of St. Peter’s, he’s paralyzed by fear. He does a good job of hiding it in front of Millie, though.
“When can we go home?” Millie tries to throw back her covers, as though she’s ready this instant. She’s thwarted by the tightly tucked in sheets, so she doesn’t make it far.
“Soon, baby. We just need to—” He stops short as his phone starts ringing loudly in his pocket. “Shit. I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to switch that off.” He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, and his expression darkens as he looks at the screen.
Bochowitz waves off his apology. “That’s okay, Mr. Reeves. As you can see normal rules don’t apply down here. Feel free to answer that if you need to. You can step out into the hallway.”
Mason shoots him a rueful smile, nodding his head. “Thanks. Unfortunately I do have to take this call.” Getting to his feet, his eyes meet mine as he moves past me to exit through the door; I couldn’t work it out before, how he felt about me moving Millie down here, out of sight, but now I can see the gratitude in his eyes. Thank fuck for that. He could easily report me to the Chief, and that would be me finished. Bochowitz starts talking to Millie again, distracting her while her brother is indisposed. I’m turning, about to join them, when I hear Mason answer his phone. The door is closing quickly behind him, but I still have time to register the first words that come out of his mouth, and I’m chilled to the bone by what I overhear.
“Detective Lowell,” he says. “I haven’t been able to check in on Mayfair today.”
Chapter Six
MASON