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“Can you talk about your rumored romance with the esteemed Archer Malone?”
I keep walking, my shoulders hunched. My expression is friendly, though inside, I’d like to shove the guy’s nose out of place. “I’m genuinely perplexed as to why you think my private life is worthy of headlines. However, I do not, nor will I ever, discuss my private life with the media.”
I stop for a moment and turn back to the horde of cameras. “I am not in a relationship. And if at some point I am, I will not discuss it with anyone except the participants of that relationship. Thank you.”
“Doctor Mayet!” voices scream as I turn away. “Doctor Mayet! Please, will you comment on—”
“Let’s go.” Aubree remains by my side and walks me toward the car.
“No more, please.” She gently pushes one reporter aside when he’s too close. Then another. “Please call the media liaison team at the George Stanley for any further statements.”
“Not too fast,” I coach under my breath. “Not too aggressive.” I slow my steps and make my hobble more pronounced. My knee genuinely hurts, my hips truly are stiff, but no way, in no other time, would I leave the hospital with a set of stupid crutches. “We’re being gentle and soft and shit, remember?”
Aubree’s eyes flicker to mine, curious at first. Then hard. She pastes on a fake smile and swings around to face a reporter. “Please let us through. Doctor Mayet is in considerable pain and requires rest.”
“Will you give us any information at all about who youthinkthe Opulus Killer is?”
“I don’t know who it is.” I stop by the car door and turn back. “It’s not my job to guess. It’s not my right to speculate. I run a lab and nothing more, and if I chose to speak out about something I don’t have true information on, not only would I lose my job, but I’d be putting a homicide investigation at risk. These are questions you should ask the investigating detectives.”
Turning away from the clamoring crowd, I slide my crutches into the car first, then I skip on one foot and lower down on my own. All along, Aubree remains my guard. Standing in front of me and blocking the cameras from seeing too much.
She doesn’t block me completely. But she makes sure what they catch is that much more pathetic.
“You okay?” She snags the seatbelt and hands it to me to fasten. “Are you in pain, Doctor Mayet?”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes as my second postures. “I’m okay, thank you. I’d like some pain relief when we get back to the office.”
“Of course.”
She gently closes the door and inches her way between the car and the wall of reporters. “Please call the George Stanley for a statement.” She skims the outside of the car with her hands raised in surrender. “Please, let us go so Doctor Mayet can get the pain relief she needs.”
Opening the driver’s side door and sliding in with a heavy thud that makes the car rock on its frame, she closes the door with a slam and looks at me. “What the hell are you trying to achieve?”
“Just reminding them I’m soft and defenseless.” I cover my smirk with a hand as cameras continue to film us. “Start driving.”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, reminding me it’s there, and right beside it, the final dose of dynazanmapalin.
Taking the phone out and spying Archer’s name on the screen, I slide my thumb to answer the call, but I look to Aubree first. “Drive for a few minutes, then we’ll figure out where to go next.”
I bring the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”
“You weren’t supposed to leave the hospital,” he growls instantly. “You’re sure as shit not supposed to tell the entire fucking city exactly where you’ll be. That’s called a sitting duck, dummy.”
I roll my eyes. “Good afternoon, Archer. What’s happened since we last spoke?”
“O’Dey’s mother is dead,” he huffs. “She was checked out of the Baybridge assisted living home a couple weeks back; we went over to their house hoping to talk to her.”
My lip curls back. “But you found her dead instead?”
“Yep. She’d been there a while. She was past the gassy bloated phase and into the red skin phase.”
“You didn’t call me in as M.E.?” I scowl and look out at the street as Aubree drives. “That’s my case, Malone.”
“She was well and truly dead,” he grumbles. “Super dead.”
“Quite the educated deduction,” I snarl in response. “Where are you?”
“Heading to the George fuckin’ Stanley, since you just announced on live TV that’s where you’re going.”
