Page 84 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Ronan sighed.

“Elliot.”

“What?”

“Let him breathe.”

“I am.”

“You've asked him six questions in thirty seconds.”

Elliot turned back toward the microwave.

“Fine.”

Dylan laughed quietly.

“Psych major?”

“Unfortunately.”

“He always like this?”

“Yes,” Ronan said.

“No,” Elliot said simultaneously.

Dylan laughed harder. The microwave beeped. Elliot removed the container. Steam carried the smell of garlic and tomato through the kitchen. He grabbed a fork and leaned against the island rather than joining them. The television changed. Security footage. The mask. Elliot stopped chewing. The image had become familiar enough that seeing it no longer caused the sharp little jolt it had the first time. White face. Black eyes. Cracked cheek. The caption beneath it read:

POLICE SEEK INFORMATION ON MASKED INDIVIDUAL

Dylan noticed.

“Whole fucking town is obsessed with that thing.”

Ronan looked toward the television.

“Yeah.”

“People are saying it was seen near Lucas's apartment.”

Elliot looked at Dylan.

“Who?”

“Internet.”

“Meaning nobody.”

“Probably.”

Dylan lifted his bottle.

“But if the jacket was at Augustine's...”

He didn't finish. Nobody needed him to. Ronan's gaze moved toward Elliot. Elliot noticed.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”