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Twirling the cigarette, I ignore Ralph as he sits on top of Rinaldo’s desk with his feet folded under him. He glares at me, crosses his arms, and huffs. It doesn’t matter. I’m not seeking his approval.

The door opens, and I glance up, feigning surprise. Tucking the cigarette into my shirt pocket, I wipe my palms on the thighs of my jeans and stand.

“Sorry,” I mumble, “I was looking for Rinaldo. He’s not answering his phone.”

“No need to apologize.” Felisa smiles politely. She crumples a small piece of paper in her hand and shoves it into her jacket pocket. I recognize it as the one I left in her mailbox. I’m actually quite good at faking Rinaldo’s handwriting.

“Have you seen him?” I ask, sounding hopeful.

“I was hoping to meet him here,” she says. “I thought I was going to be late.”

My phone chirps again, and I slip my hand into my pocket to bring it out. Tilting the phone toward the left, I make sure Felisa’s line of sight won’t allow her to see what’s displayed on the screen. I tap at the phone before returning it to my pocket.

“It’s okay,” I say as I stand up. “I just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. I’ll find him later.”

Felisa’s phone goes off, and she glances down at the text message displayed.

Right on cue.

“Evan, wait!”

“Yeah?” I stop in my tracks and look at her quizzically.

“It looks like Rinaldo isn’t going to make it, and my ride has already left.” She shrugs her shoulders and smiles sweetly. “I was hoping we could chat a bit. Then maybe you could give me a ride home.”

“Chat? What about?” The key is to be reluctant. Shrinks want to believe they are dragging information out of you against your will. As long as they think they are getting what they want out of you, they aren’t looking for what you are trying to get out of them.

She continues with the sugary smile and sits on the opposite end of the couch. Tilting her head to the side, she pats the cushion next to her.

“Sit down for a minute.”

I wonder if the inclusion of a couch in the room was her idea. It’s a new addition to the office since the time I was out of town. There used to be two chairs here instead.

I move tentatively but sit next to her. Not too close; I don’t want her to think I’m being friendly. I pull the cigarette out of my pocket again to give myself something to fiddle with to feign nervousness and run my hand through my hair. Tapping my fingers against my knee, I glance over at Felisa.

She’s still smiling.

“I haven’t had a chance to get to know you at all.” Her start is innocent enough, except no one ever tries to cozy up to the guy who does the killing unless they need a job done. I’m pretty confident she’s not going to request my services.

“I’m just me.” I shrug one shoulder and look down at the floor.

“You’ve been with Rinaldo a long time.”

“A few years.”

“He thinks very highly of you.”

I narrow my eyes a little. I’m careful not to give her too hard a glance. I don’t want her scared—not yet.

“I get the job done.”

“He’s told me a little about you,” she says. “About your history before you moved to Chicago, that is.”

The information doesn’t surprise me. Rinaldo has spent a lot of time with her, and talking about me would have come up eventually.

“Yeah? So?” I lean back on the couch and cross my arms.

“So, that’s a lot for a person to take on without help.”

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