Richie had come from a dangerous and powerful crime family. And even though he’d steered clear of the Burke business, he’d nearly been killed himself, more than once. I’d thought that made us simpatico—different sides of the same coin. Yet after this conversation, I wasn’t so sure.
If I’d explained to the man I loved that the main reason I needed to hang up was to check a missing douchebag’s text messages on a phone I’d stolen from his office, would he understand?
I doubted he would—and that made me sad. But at the moment, I was more interested in reading the douchebag’s latest text.
Twelve
The text was from someone Dylan had named Trevor the Chemist. And it read simply:WHERE R U?
Trevor the Chemist. Sounded like a drug dealer—albeit a pretentious one. Maybe he went to Harvard, too.
While I’m not normally one to text and drive, I’d used the voice option to reply while I was still stuck in traffic.I am not Dylan, but I have his phone. I am trying to help his parents find him. Where are you? Can we meet?
There had been no reply. I’d waited for another ding all the way to Optima Urgent Care, where Rhonda Lewis was employed—an unassuming-looking building with a very crowded parking lot on what was otherwise a mostly residential street.
While waiting at the end of a rather lengthy check-in line, Ilooked at Dylan’s texts once again to see if Trevor the Chemist had responded back when I’d been distracted by road rage. He hadn’t. I tried calling his number. It went straight to voicemail. The mailbox was full, which felt kind of irresponsible for a drug dealer.
I scrolled through the rest of Dylan’s texts as I moved closer to the front of the line. None were very interesting—mostly spam and old appointment reminders for Lamborghini tune-ups and body waxing. As far as his personal life went, I imagined Dylan was more of a Snapchat kind of guy, disappearing texts and all. I started to move on to his stored images. The most recent was a dick pic. Of course it was. I closed it quickly.Why can’t somebody invent an app that makes you unsee things?
I was next in line now—just behind a young couple with a shrieking baby that they were both trying unsuccessfully to soothe. I turned my attention to the medical receptionist—a pale, wan guy about my age, with a tattoo of a phone booth on his forearm. TARDIS, fromDoctor Who. I wouldn’t have known what TARDIS was until a year ago. Tom Gorman was a huge fan of the British TV show—a Whovian, if you will, with a DVD library that dated back to early episodes from the seventies and included every single one of the fourteen doctors. Back when we were dating, he’d made me dinner and treated me to aDoctor Whomarathon. And though I must confess that Tom had treated me to other marathons I’d enjoyed a good deal more, I did like the show. While the receptionist was checking the young family in, I went to theDoctor WhoWiki Fandom and refreshed my memory.
After the woman in front of me finished signing in, I stepped up to the desk. Mr. TARDIS glanced up at me with tired, watery eyes. He was wearing blue scrubs that matched his tattoo. His nametag saidSteve. “How can I help you?” Steve said in an exhausted monotone.
“First things first,” I said. “Who’s your favorite doctor?”
He frowned. “Here?”
I shook my head and pointed to the phone booth on his forearm. “You know what I’m talking about.”
His face lit up. “Wait, seriously?”
“Come on. Everybody has a favorite.”
“Ten,” he said.
“Ah, David Tennant. A class act,” I said. “I like thirteen, of course.”
“Of course. Everybody loves her.”
“Yeah, but if we’re talking favorite doctor of all time…I’m going with the War Doctor. No contest.”
“The War Doctor,” he said. “That is a deep cut.”
“I’m a deep individual.”
“What’s your name?” he said.
“Sunny,” I said. “Like Jaz Samuels’s toy rabbit.”
“No way.”
“Yes way,” I said. “And believe me, you’re the only person I’ll talk to today who gets that reference.”
His smile broadened until he positively glowed. “I’m Steve,” he said. “Like Steven Taylor.”
I pretended to know who that was. “Ah! Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Steve,” I said.
“Likewise.”
