Born, Madly (Darkly, Madly 2)
His weathered gaze spears me. “You.”
I pocket my phone, cross my arms. I’m unsure if his declaration is out of concern, or a threat. The article also stated that Foster had been suspended, operating on his own as he tracked Grayson across the country. He suffered a major stressor and has no family ties to ground him. If he was my patient, I’d declare him delusional, unhinged from reality.
A temporary break in his psyche could make him capable of more than just stalking—he could be dangerous. To himself and others. Is it a leap to say that a man who has devoted majority of his life to upholding the law suddenly—like a switch—begins killing?
Maybe I’m biased, but from a personal standpoint, I’ve discovered that the very people put in charge to honor the law and protect us are the ones we should fear the most.
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” I say, offering him another sip from the cup. “I’m well protected, detective.”
He shakes his head at my offer. “You weren’t last night, London. When Sullivan was inside your building. He didn’t approach you, which leads me to believe that whatever he’s up to is something sinister.”
I set the cup down. Foster has never addressed me so informally. We’re not on a first name basis. I study him, looking for any sign of Machiavellian tactics. The detective is far more cunning than what he demonstrates publicly, but he’s not shrewd enough to be a master manipulator.
And he’s serious.
Whatever happened between Grayson and Foster has the detective believing in my innocence.
“I would think that you’d be shouting the loudest that I was in cohorts with Grayson. Having some clandestine reunion with him. Plotting…” I wave my hand aimlessly. “Everyone’s demise.”
He scoffs. “That’s just a tactic. To get you riled in hopes you’ll spill something that you hadn’t to the Feds.”
I nod slowly. Right. Grayson must have riled him up pretty good last night. I inspect his cast. “How did you break your arm?”
“He broke it.” His unrestricted hand clenches into a fist. “I don’t know why Sullivan was there, but I knew he would be. He’s not finished with you yet. You’re in danger. You need to leave, London. Get away until he’s caught or dead.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “How heavy is your pain meds?”
“I’m serious,” he says with a huff. “He tried to kill me.”
“If Grayson wanted you dead, Foster, you’d be dead.” I lean in close to his ear. “Which means he still has a purpose for you, too.”
As I pull away, he watches me closely.
“I appreciate your concern,” I say, “but you should be more concerned for yourself. You’re not safe from him in a hospital, as you well know. You’re not safe anywhere.”
The truth of my statement registers in his swollen eyes. “You’re right. He didn’t kill me. He could’ve, but he left me alive. Fired my own gun at me and missed.”
I stay quiet, waiting for him to make the connection to whatever he’s sorting out.
“The things he said…that he asked me…” He shakes his head and winces. “It was like he’s looking for something in particular. And when he didn’t find it, he just…left.”
Still, I say nothing. But Foster’s statement reveals more than he could possibly know.
“You’ve gotten inside his demented head,” he says to me. “Explain it to me.”
I raise my eyebrows, shake my head. “His disorder is complicated. There are many different reasons for what he did, possible theories…and I can’t know for sure unless I evaluate him now.”
Foster’s gaze narrows. “Why are you here?”
“To ask you not to speak to the press again.” And to see for myself if by looking into Foster’s eyes, I will recognize a killer.
I sigh, exasperated. On all accounts. “The media doesn’t report the truth, Foster,” I say. “They’ll spin whatever you give them into the worst tale for the both of us.” I lay my hand on his arm, then I reach into my purse and pull out a card. I tuck it into his cast. “Here’s my lawyer’s direct line. I’ve made him aware of the situation. Please call him before you make anymore speeches to the press.”
I turn to go, and he says, “Allen Young? Are you serious?”
“You recall how fierce he was. That’s exactly why I retained his services. You’re welcome.”
He frowns. “Thanks, doc. Try to stay out of trouble.”