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“It’s no problem,” Dr.Scott said affably. “My assistant told me that you seemed surprised when she told you I was available so late. Almost like you’d thrown out a time that you thought I’d refuse.”
Kit’s cheeks heated, but she didn’t look away. Do not show weakness. Do not let him in.
She always said that to herself, but then he always seemed to be able to weasel around her best intentions, dragging details out of her mouth that she hadn’t wanted to share.
“Maybe,” she allowed. “I’m really busy right now.”
“I heard. I think everyone’s heard that you’re working the serial killer case—a case that a lot of other detectives have worked on over the years.” He smiled sadly. “I’ve been around a long time. You’re not the first detective to sit in my office after finding the body of a teenage blonde buried in a park.”
Navarro, she thought. That Homicide hadn’t caught this killer weighed heavily on him. “I suppose not.”
Dr.Scott waited for her to say more, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. His lips quirked up. “You have to talk to me, Detective,” he said, sounding mildly amused, “or our time doesn’t count.” He tilted his head. “How do you feel, knowing so many detectives before you have tried to solve this case but have been unable to?”
She considered his question carefully. “It’s a huge responsibility and I’m feeling that.”
He nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less. How are you sleeping?”
She held his gaze, having expected that question. “Okay.”
He held up a finger, wagging it. “Honesty, Detective.”
She huffed. “Fine. Not well. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No, because I don’t want you to be losing sleep. But if it’s the truth, I’m glad to get it out there. What do you do when you can’t sleep?”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Is this a trick question?”
“No.”
She huffed again. “I work.”
He smiled. “Now that I believe.”
“I’m not the only one.” She winced because that sounded whiny.
He must have thought the same thing because he rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not. I mean, it’s job security for me, I suppose, but it’s genuinely painful to watch you all work yourselves into an early grave. How is Baz, by the way?”
This time she flinched. “That’s not fair.”
“Is anything fair?”
She drew a breath because she wanted to scream. She hated shrinks who asked questions like that. No. Nothing is fair. Life is not fair, but we all just push forward. That was all she could do. “He’s doing well. I saw him at the hospital before I came here. He wants to go home.”
“Where he’ll probably work. Or try to.”
“Probably. Marian won’t let him, though.”
Dr.Scott shifted in his seat, studying her. “Who’s going to stop you?”
“From doing what?” she asked, pretending to misunderstand.
“From working yourself into an early grave, Kit,” he said softly.
Her eyes burned and that made her mad. “Nobody,” she snapped. “I don’t need anyone to—” She cut herself off because he’d lifted a brow.
“To what? Stop you?” he asked when she pursed her lips. “Help you? Protect you?”
“I don’t need protecting.” She said the words quietly, but even she could hear the anger roiling beneath.
