Page 86 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“He might be right.”

Elliot took another bite. Of course he was right. Dylan's connection to both men made him useful. Not guilty. Useful. People liked convenient explanations. Police were still people. Even Detective Vance. Especially Detective Vance, perhaps.

“Do you have anything to hide?” Elliot asked.

Dylan looked up. Ronan said, “Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

Dylan laughed once.

“No.”

“Then a lawyer still isn't a bad idea.”

“You are the least comforting person I've ever met.”

“That isn't true.”

“Name someone worse.”

Elliot looked at Ronan. Ronan lifted both hands.

“Don't involve me.”

Dylan smiled again. Elliot finished his pasta. He set the container in the sink. The back of his neck prickled. He turned. Ronan was watching him. Again. Not openly suspicious. Not even close. But differently. Elliot had noticed the change yesterday. Small. Subtle. Ronan watched him for a second too long now. Asked where he'd been. Asked why he'd gone running. Looked at his shoes. Nothing significant. Unless it continued. Elliot hated uncertainty. People called uncertainty mystery when they enjoyed it. Elliot called it lack of information. He preferred information. He dried his hands.

“I'm going to bed.”

Ronan looked at the clock.

“Already?”

“Some of us have class.”

“Tomorrow's Friday.”

“Excellent observation.”

Dylan stood.

“I should go too.”

Elliot's mood improved instantly. Ronan noticed. Of course. Dylan grabbed his jacket.

“Thanks for letting me crash your night.”

“Anytime,” Ronan said.

Elliot smiled.

“Of course.”

Dylan looked at him.

“You know, I genuinely can't tell whether you mean things.”

“That's concerning.”