The Magician Murders (The Art of Murder 3)

“Obviously.” Fill in the blanks was a careful euphemism if there ever was one. He had been confused and in pain and, yes, a little shaken—and Sam had recognized and dismissed his distress as low priority.

As though reading his thoughts, Sam said, “It wouldn’t have been my first choice either.”

Hopefully that was true.

“I still don’t understand. Why would you be in charge of this investigation?”

“I’m not.”

“Then why the hell—”

Sam said quietly, “Keep your voice down. It’s a hospital.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a hospital.” Jason kicked impatiently at the sheets and then winced. His propped right ankle was definitely sprained. He lowered his voice. “Then what the hell were you doing in here interviewing me?”

“You really want to go into this now?”

Meaning Sam didn’t? No surprise there.

“I really do, yeah.”

“I pulled in a couple of favors from the Stafford Sheriff’s Office. I thought it would be easier on you and it would guarantee me getting the information I wanted.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. This sweeping obliviousness, of course, was an example of why Sam, unlike himself, had a whole list of people dying to throw him in car trunks and permanently dispose of him.

There was so much to say in response, Jason wasn’t sure where to begin. Aggravatingly, the first thing that bubbled out was, “Easier on me? Easier having you interview me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

He really believed it too. Really believed that it had somehow been more pleasant for Jason to be questioned by Sam as though he was an unknown victim—a stranger—in a criminal investigation rather than be questioned by the local sheriffs.

“You really think that’s what I needed most from you right then?”

Sam’s frown deepened. He did not answer.

“Sam…” Jason stopped. “I just don’t understand how you’re so good at your job when you’re so bad at dealing with people.”

Sam reddened, looking both startled and offended. “Meaning?”

“Forget it. If you’re not in charge of this case, why was it necessary to interview me? What information were you after—and why?”

Sam appeared not to understand the question.

“If this is a matter for the local police—”

“I don’t know that,” Sam said. “It’s too early to know that. You brought up the possibility of Jeremy Kyser. He’s been stalking you for several months and can’t be ruled out. But you’re also working something like twelve cases per day.”

“More like fifteen.”

“Right. And every one of those open and ongoing cases has to be examined. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“The Sheriff’s Office will pursue their investigation as they see fit. I intend to monitor the situation.”

“You?”

“Hell yes. Who better?”