"Well, I'll tell you what. If it will get you outta my hair any faster, let's give your Detective Thorne a call," Carrigan said. "That ought to clear things right up, eh?"
"Yes. I'll call him now."
Gabrielle's fingers were trembling a little as she dug her cell phone out of her pocketbook and punched in Lucan's number. It rang, unanswered. She tried again, waiting for an agonizing eternity while her call rang and rang and rang, and Officer Carrigan's expression smoothed from dubious impatience to a tentative, sympathetic look she'd seen on more than one social worker's face when she was a kid.
"He's not there," she murmured as she brought the phone away from her ear. She felt awkward and confused, made all the worse for the careful expression on Carrigan's face. "I'm sure he's just tied up with something. I'll try him again in a minute."
"Ms. Maxwell, do you have anyone else we can call? Family, maybe? Someone who can help us make sense of what you might be going through?"
"I'm not going through anything."
"Seems to me like you are. I think you're confused. You know, sometimes people invent things to help them cope with other problems."
Gabrielle scoffed. "I'm not confused. Lucan Thorne is not a figment of my imagination. He's real. These things that have been happening around me are real. The murder I saw last weekend, those... men... with their bloody faces and sharp teeth, even that kid who was watching me the other day at the Common... he works here at the station. What did you do, send him to spy on me?"
"Okay, Ms. Maxwell. Let's see if we can work this out together." Evidently, Carrigan had finally found a scrap of diplomacy underneath the crust of his boorish nature. But there was still a big dose of condescension in the way he took her by the elbow and tried to guide her toward one of the lobby benches for a seat. "Let's just take a few deep breaths, here. We can get you some help."
She shook him off, pulling away. "You think I'm crazy. I know what I saw - all of it! I'm not making this up, and I don't need any help. I just need the truth."
"Sheryl, honey," Carrigan said to the receptionist who was staring at them with apprehension in her eyes. "You wanna give Rudy Duncan a quick call for me? Tell him I could use him down here."
"Meds?" she inquired lightly, the phone already hugged between her ear and shoulder.
"Nah," Carrigan replied, looking back to Gabrielle. "No cause for alarm just yet. Ask him to come down to the lobby, nice and easy, have a little talk with Ms. Maxwell and me."
"Forget it," Gabrielle said, rising off the bench. "I'm not staying here another second. I have to go."
"Look, whatever you're going through, there are people who can help you - "
She didn't wait for him to finish, simply gathered what was left of her dignity, then strode over to the receptionist desk to retrieve the cup and bag from the countertop, and pitched both into the trash on her way out the door.
The night air was crisp against her flushed cheeks, soothing her somewhat. But her head was still spinning. Her heart was still pounding hard with confusion and disbelief.
Had the whole world gone mad around her? What the hell was going on?
Lucan had been lying to her about being a cop, that was pretty much a no-brainer. But just how much of what he'd told her - God, how much of what they'd done together - had been part of that deception?
And why?
Gabrielle paused at the bottom of the concrete steps leading out of the precinct house and took deep lungfuls of air. She blew it out slowly, then looked down to find her cell phone still clutched in her hand.
"Shit."
She had to know.
This strange ride she was on had to stop right now.
The Redial button brought up Lucan's number. She sent the call, then waited, uncertain what she was going to say.
It rang six times.
Seven.
Eight...
Chapter Fifteen
Lucan grabbed his cell phone from out of his leather jacket, a curse rolling hard off his tongue.