"More than—" She puts the wine down on the coffee table. "More than one?"
"I'm aware of how that sounds."
"How many?"
"Maybe two." I press my lips together. "Possibly three."
"You don't have a—Hope Margaret Turner, you are a court-appointed behavioral monitor at a maximum security psychiatric facility and you are telling me there might be more than one guy."
"Yes."
She picks up her wine. Drinks. Puts it down. Picks it up again. "Okay. Okay." She points at the screen. "We are unpacking all of this right now. Start talking."
I smile. I can't help it. "Not tonight. I'm tired and I don't even know myself yet."
"Absolutely tonight. I canceled a date for this."
"You did not."
"I would have." She leans closer to the camera, her face filling my screen. "Okay fine, don't tell me tonight. But you know I love you and I'm on your side through whatever this turns into," she says. "But you owe me every detail, and I mean every single one, and if any of them are criminals I'm going to need a much bigger glass of wine."
She tells me I'm insane and I can't stop laughing.
"I love you," I say when I can breathe again.
"I love you too, you disaster." She grins at me through the phone. "Call me when you're ready to talk. I'll bring wine. And possibly bail money."
"Very funny."
"Who's joking?"
She hangs up and I stand in my kitchen with the phone still warm in my hand, smiling at nothing.
Chapter 12
Gage
Tully catches me outside the staff room, coffee still too hot to drink.
"Rick's been running his mouth again."
I don't stop walking. "Rick's always running his mouth."
"About the monitor."
That stops me.
Tully's got fifteen years on the job, most of them spent not giving a shit about anything except his pension and his fishing trips. The fact that he's bringing this to me, his mouth pressed flat in a way I've never seen on him, tells me everything I need to know about how bad it is.
"What'd he say?"
Tully glances down the corridor. Lowers his voice. "Said he knows what car she drives. Silver Honda, right? Said he knows her route home. Said—" He stops and rubs the back of his neck. "Said he's gonna teach her what happens to women who cause issues for us."
"When'd he say this?"
"Twenty minutes ago. Break room. Dane was there, laughing along. He got back this week." Tully's shoulders pull forward. "Look, he's been running his mouth for weeks. Anybody who'll listen. But it's getting worse. He's winding himself up, you know? Every shift he's louder about it, more specific." He drops his voice. "I don't like her poking around any more than the rest of us, but that's... I think he's actually gonna do something to that girl."
No. He's not.
