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“I helped. And Babbage Town hired some people to look after her.”
“And Viggie was okay with a bunch of strangers around her?”
“I guess Monk had talked to her. If he told her it was okay, she’d believe it. They had that kind of relationship.”
“Can you get through to Viggie at all?”
“Sometimes. Why?”
“Because I might need your help when I talk to her.”
“What could Viggie know that would help you in your investigation?”
“She may know something about her dad that might explain what happened.”
“If she does talk to you, it might not be a language you understand very well.”
Sean smiled. “Good thing I’ll have a world-class linguist assisting me.”
She said in a condescending manner, “You couldn’t care less whether Monk Turing committed suicide or was murdered. You’ll get paid regardless.”
“You’re wrong. I do care whether the killer is caught.”
“Why?”
“Technically, I’m a PI. But I’m really a cop and cops just think that way. That’s why we do a job most people can’t. You said there were some things you wanted to tell me? I’ve only heard one.”
She stared at him curiously. “I’m really tired so I’m going to bed. I’m sure you can see yourself out.” She reattached her prosthetic and slowly moved up the stairs.
Sean locked the door on his way out. If there was a murderer on the loose, you could never be too careful.
As he walked back to his room at the mansion, Sean only had one thought marching through his head: What the hell have I gotten into?
CHAPTER
19
AFTER WALKING OUT ON HORATIO, Michelle skipped lunch. Instead she did such an intense workout in the gym that there wasn’t a dry thread on her. She was feeling better, she told herself. The endorphins were obviously doing what Horatio Barnes couldn’t. She was slowly convincing herself that what had happened in that bar was one moment of bad judgment probably triggered by too much booze. Soon she would be out of here, back with Sean solving other people’s problems. Horatio could go leech on someone else’s misery.
She returned to her room to shower. After combing out her wet hair she wrapped a towel around her and stepped out of the bathroom. She sat on her bed, and started moistening her legs with lotion. Then she whirled around so fast her towel fell to the floor.
Barry had been standing behind a bureau in one corner of the room.
He had stepped out so she could see him, a broad smile on his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she cried out.
“Cheryl didn’t show up for her session. They sent me to get her,” Barry said quickly, his gaze squarely on Michelle’s naked body. She snatched a sheet off the bed, wrapped it around her and stood.
“She’s not here, so get the hell out!”
“Sorry to have disturbed you,” Barry said, the smile still playing across his lips.
“I’m going to report you for this, you son of a bitch,” she said furiously. “I know exactly what you’re up to.”
“I was told to come here to see about a patient. It’s not my fault you were walking around naked. Didn’t you read the section of the facility’s information packet that said during the day patient rooms are treated as public spaces and staff may come and go at all times? It also goes on to say that all patients should therefore dress in the bathroom if they desire privacy.”
“You seem to have focused on that particular section. Let me guess why, Mr. Pervert.”
