“A retired doctor from Grady.”
“Oh, wow… But what does the doctor have to do with him?”
“Don’t know yet. Sam searched his name a few days before the shooting.”
Vice stood and carried his plate toward the sink, although he had barely eaten anything. I watched him move around the kitchen, and it was obvious his mind had already left the room.
“Is that where you’re going?”
“Yeah… I’m ‘bout to meet Mace there… I gotta go.”
“I know.”
He moved around the counter, stopping in front of me. “You staying here.”
It wasn’t really a question, but I nodded anyway. “Where else would I go?”
“Just making sure.”
“I’m not leaving.”
His hand settled against the side of my neck before he kissed my forehead. The gesture surprised me more than if he had kissed my mouth. It felt softer. More personal.
Vice then stepped back and headed toward the bedroom to get dressed.
I finished eating while waiting for him, trying not to think too hard about what the doctor might tell him. Vice had told me last night that Sam had been digging into his mother, asking about the father he had never known and searching through records old enough that most people had probably forgotten they existed.
Whatever he found had gotten him killed.
That was enough to make me nervous about Vice walking straight into the same thing.
He returned wearing black jeans and a dark shirt, checking the gun at his waist before pulling his jacket over it.
“You expect trouble?” I asked.
“I always expect it.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Getting off the stool, I walked toward him. “What if this doctor is setting you up?”
“Mace already checked him.”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t scared enough to do something stupid.”
Vice looked at me for a second. “You worried about me?”
“No. I ask everybody about getting set up before they leave.” He just smiled and shook his head as he reached for his keys, but before he could turn away, I touched his arm. “Be careful, okay.”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
I studied his face, wanting to believe he had control over whatever was waiting for him. Vice always sounded sure of himself, but Sam had probably felt sure too.
“Go find out what Sam died trying to tell you,” I said.
Something shifted in his expression.
