Page 45 of Thin Ice

"I ate what you put in front of me."

"And you were very good about that." Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "Sometimes it feels like a miracle when a grown man eats his vegetables."

That line got a laugh out of me—a real one.

"There you are," she said.

"Don't do that either."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm a scientist. I observe." She drank the last of her bourbon. "You walked in here looking parking-garage gray. Now you're a person again. I'm allowed to notice that my friend's back."

"You're doing a lot of noticing tonight."

"It's my personality. You knew that going in."

She stood, took the pot off the stove, and emptied the contents into a plastic container. She snapped the lid on it and set it beside me.

At a quarter to eleven, I texted Elias and got up from the table. When I reached the door, she called after me. "Nolan—"

I looked back. She had a dish towel over her shoulder and both hands on the counter.

"The thing you're scared of," she said. "Don't let that paralyze you. It's not going to hold still while you get ready for it. Ready isn't a thing that taps you on the shoulder."

"I know," I said.

"I know you know." She pushed off the counter and joined me at the door, reaching out for a tight hug. "Go win your game. I won't watch. I'll know in my gut what's going on."

Elias was waiting for me under a streetlight. We walked back the three blocks without talking. Hannah's comment stayed with me the entire way. Scared isn't a reason. She'd meant it as permission, but somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I was scared of something else.

What if he wasn't what he said he was? It was starting to add up: the heating pad, the boring calls, and Tarn.

The condo was cool and half dark. Elias had left the lamp on by the recliner.

He locked the door behind us, both locks.

"Good visit?" he asked.

I looked down at the container in my hands. "We'll have this tomorrow. She thinks you're too thin."

"She's a doctor. I guess she'd know." He took the container from me and set it on the island. "You should sleep. It's a big game coming up."

"Yeah." I stayed where I was, one hand on the back of the recliner. The window behind him was black and the lamp cast half of him in shadow. The question escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

"Did the team really send you?"

He paused for half a second.

"Yeah, the league office arranges it, and the team signs off. It's standard for a deep run. Why?"

"No reason. Long day." I pushed off the recliner. "Are you coming to bed now?"

"No, I've got a little work to do. Boring stuff."

Chapter thirteen

Elias

Michael: Tierney's number. landline answers before six, never after eight. You get one try.