“I was wondering when you’d get around to asking. ‘We’ is me and Elspeth. Or should that be ‘Weareme and Elspeth’?” he said. “I suck at grammar.”
“Elspeth’s with you?”
“Yep. She came to my restaurant right after she got out of the hospital. Had her mother drop her off. Elspeth thinks I’m the only one who can protect her.”
“Protect her?” I said. “From what?”
“That’s what she wants to talk to you about.” Spike put his hand over the receiver for a few seconds. I heard muffled conversation, then he returned to the line. “She wants to tell you privately in person,” he said. “And knowing what she has to tell you, I’ve gotta say…she’s right.”
—
After I hung up with Spike, I waited for Bill and Lydia to get out of Sky’s room. I told them I had a slight work emergency and that I’d call them later. They both seemed shaken up—Lydia especially. I understood. It was one thing to expect bad news about someone you loved. It was quite another to have it confirmed.
“You guys going to be okay here?” I asked. “You need me for anything else?”
Lydia shook her head. “That’s fine, dear. You take care of your work issue,” she said. “Sky has called the police, and I imagine that when they’re done interviewing the poor girl, they’ll want to speak with us as well.”
“All right,” I said. “If you’re sure.”
“You enjoy the rest of your day, Sunny,” Bill said. An odd thing to come out of his mouth, especially now. It made me feel sorry for him, andfeeling sorry for Bill Welchwasn’t something that had been on my 2024 bingo card.
As I was leaving the waiting room, Lydia called out my name. When I turned to her, she gave me a pained smile that tore at my heart. “At least we know Dylan’s close by.”
On my way out, I poked my head into Sky’s room. I told her I was leaving and asked if she still wanted me to pick up her sweats and sneakers.
“Oh, yes, please!” She smiled, her whole face lighting up. “I live in the Back Bay. I’ll text you everything you need to know, and I’ll call the doorman and tell him to let you in. Cool?”
It was strange how different Sky was acting, in less than twenty minutes’ time—as though the memory of being shot had been a weight lifted from her and then placed squarely on the shoulders of the shooter’s parents. Sky seemed less frail, more energetic, Lydia and Bill having taken on all of her suffering.
“I may be a little while because of work stuff,” I said. “Is that okay?”
“No worries. They haven’t even given me an ETA as far as discharging me goes,” she said. “Plus, I’ve got the police coming.” She opened her compact, examined her face in the mirror, checked her teeth, and smoothed her eyebrows, as though she was getting ready for a date. We said goodbye. Sky glanced up from her mirror and beamed at me again. “Thank you forhelping me remember,” she said. “It’s weird. I feel so much better now.”
It is weird,I thought.We’re in agreement on that.
I had a hinky feeling as I walked toward the elevator. I didn’t like being suspicious of Sky, but I couldn’t help it. There was something about her mood shift that bothered me. It seemed extreme to the point of callousness—especially considering how distraught the Welches clearly were. On the other hand, Sky was also recovering from major blood loss, she was on a hell of a lot of pain meds, and she’d just remembered that her best friend had tried to kill her. Where was the reaction guidebook for that?
I decided to lay off Sky. She was an orphan who grew up with nothing but liked everybody nonetheless. Meanwhile, I grew up in a solid and fairly privileged family, and most people annoyed me. Clearly, we reacted to the world in very different ways.
I was just at the elevator when I remembered one more question. I jogged back to Sky’s room and knocked softly on the door, and when I heard her say, “Come in,” I poked my head in again.
Sky was smoothing her hair with her good arm as a nurse checked her monitor. She turned toward me, smiling. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes,” I said. “Sorry. I’m usually a better questioner.”
Some of her smile slipped away. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering,” I said. “Who was the reporter?”
“Huh?”
“You said a reporter called you back in the office before Dylan shot you. They interviewed you about Trevor.”
Her face relaxed. “Oh, right.”
“Do you remember their name?”
She winced. “Crap. I don’t.”
