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“Sam. I mean Dr.Reeves.” She’d started thinking of him as Sam in her mind, and that was not okay.
“Who is he?”
Kind. Sincere. Forgiving. In pain. “My CI.”
“Okay. Sounds like he’s a little more than that, though. Normally you let remarks like that roll off like water off a duck’s back.”
“No, I don’t,” Kit confessed. “I just have a good poker face.”
“We all know that. We just let you believe that we buy your I’m-a-rock persona.”
Persona. The same word Sam had used tonight. He couldn’t separate his personal and professional personas. Kit had never had trouble at least pretending to keep them separate.
Tonight, not so much.
“He’s a psychologist. Got sucked into this case.”
“The serial killer case? How did he get sucked in?”
“Being a Good Samaritan. Now the killer is framing him.”
“That sucks,” Akiko said, her tone so matter-of-fact that Kit laughed, surprising herself. But it was a watery laugh, tears too close to the surface.
“He’s decided to investigate for himself.”
“Oh,” Akiko said flatly. “I guess I don’t blame him. Do you?”
“No. But he could fuck things up.”
“What did he do?”
“Talked to a victim’s family.”
“Did he fuck it up?”
“No. He got information that I couldn’t. Or didn’t. And now we know details about the killer that we didn’t know before.”
“I thought you caught the killer.” Then she made a humming noise. “You didn’t catch them all yet.”
“No, but you don’t know that.”
“Know what?” Akiko asked innocently. “I am but a humble fisherwoman.”
Kit chuckled again. “Right. And I have oceanfront property in Nevada.”
“So are you mad that he talked to the family or that he got the information that you either couldn’t or didn’t?”
Kit met Akiko’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “That bothers me.”
“Of course it does. You like your life orderly and this isn’t. What are you going to do about him?”
“I don’t know,” she said again. “I should stop him, but... what if he can get information that I can’t? What if the information leads us to this killer and we can take him off the street forever? So he doesn’t kill anyone else?”
Like Skyler Carville. Sam’s friend.
“That sounds like a positive. Isn’t it?”
“But... he could get hurt. He’s a psychologist, not a cop. He has a cute dog and wears these dorky glasses and he’s so... sincere. He’s not a fighter. He panicked because I grabbed his arms.” And she didn’t know why.
