“Help?”
“You can joke all you like. But when someone is ill—”
“He could have hurt you,” Chay said harshly.
“We were in a public place.”
“Oh, well, that’s a relief. Sickos never hurt anybody in public places.”
Bianca searched for a response, but what, really, could she say? She hadn’t thought herself in any danger.
Well, maybe that “you belong with me” stuff had upped the game a little, but—
“Did his voice seem familiar?”
“What?”
“His voice,” Chay said. “Could he have been your Texas caller?”
She stared at him. “My Texas… No. My Texas caller was one of my patients.”
“Right. I forgot that.”
But he had forgotten nothing else. It seemed as if he had memoriz
ed that night in Santa Barbara. She had too. Not the things they’d discussed. The other part of it. The part that had taken place on the beach…
“How many calls did you get?”
“How many… Five. Six. But they were from my patient.”
“You sure the calls were from only the one guy?”
“I’m sure. Besides, it would have been unlikely that two sick men would call me during the same time period.”
“Nothing is unlikely when it comes to crazies.”
“That’s a harsh word, Lieutenant.”
“It’s a harsh world, Doc.”
“I am not yet a—”
“Anyway, you’re probably right. The odds on you getting calls from two loonies within the same time span are probably zero to none. Still, don’t they teach you how to protect yourself from nutcases in shrink school?”
“That’s not an appropriate way to describe someone with issues. Or to describe my training.”
“Live and learn,” he said mildly. “The light’s green.” They stepped off the curb. “Watch out for that puddle.”
“What puddle?”
“That puddle,” he said. He grabbed her elbow and tried to steer her around it, but it was too late.
Rainwater sloshed over her shoes.
That made twice.
She knew it. He knew it. And though he didn’t say a word, she could almost hear him laughing.