“Dare I ask?” She snickered and checked emails on her phone.
He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Double dog dare ya.”
She wasn’t playing into this repartee but... “If we’re about to play Truth or Dare, I’d settle for truth.”
“This coming from the woman who tried to hide a stalker from a security specialist.”
It did seem ridiculous. She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled into the clinic parking lot and Cosette’s phone rang. Dad’s lawyer. She declined the call.
“He’s been relentless having his lawyer call. But quite frankly, there is nothing he can say that will change what he did or how I feel about him. I don’t want to hear platitudes and apologies, Wilder. The day I put her in the ground, I put him there, too. Mentally.” She may have written him off much earlier than that.
“What if the uptick in calls is because he’s sick? You might regret not talking to him when it’s too late.” Wilder unclicked the seat belt for her. “You’re going to be late. What time do I need to pick you up?”
She glanced at the seat belt and bristled. “I’ll call you. I’m not sure.” Would she regret not speaking to her dad if he died? To know his dying words? What could he possibly say to bring back Mama? To make what he did right? There was nothing.
“You want me to walk you in?” Wilder asked.
“Again, might be overkill.” She hesitated. “What did the team say? When you told them?”
Wilder smirked. “We all wanna kill him. Some of us more than others.”
“Let’s not go that far.”
He grasped her arm as she stepped from the vehicle, holding her back.
“Cosette, I’ll go as far as I need to go.”
She blinked back tears. “You’re the best boss I’ve ever had.” A reminder that that was all he was. Her boss. She couldn’t see him as anything more. She couldn’t need him for anything more than to watch over her, and she didn’t like that fact.
“I’m the best boss anyone’s ever had.” He gave her his signature wink, but his face had fallen some.
He waited in the parking lot until she was inside, then she watched him drive away. The office smelled like antiseptic and lavender. Her heels clicked on the polished white tile as she headed for her office.
“Cosette!”
She turned and smiled. Her colleague Roger Renfrow greeted her with a perfectly pearly-white smile, his blond hair spiked in the front. He held up a manila folder. “I found some information for you on the equine therapy. Talked to one of my friends in Michigan who runs one. Mercy Abrams. She said you can contact her anytime. Fly out there and check her place out.”
Cosette took the information. “Wow, Roger, thanks so much. That’s generous.”
“No problem. On another note, Malcolm is here. Early and antsy.”
Malcolm was twenty-four and one of the sweetest young men she knew. But he was also a pyromaniac. “Antsy, huh? You didn’t happen to notice if he was carrying a lighter? Matches?”
“No, he wasn’t, that I saw. Look, if you need anything else, let me know.” Roger squeezed her shoulder and left her at her door.
Inside, Malcolm would be in the small waiting area painted in soft blues and greens. She opened the door and grinned. “Hi, Malcolm.” She invited him into her personal office. “Have a seat,” she said and unlocked her filing cabinet to retrieve his file. “How are you?”
“I’m having those thoughts again. That’s why I’m early.”
“Let’s talk about them.” She noticed an envelope propped against the picture of Mama that she kept on her desk. No writing. Her heart skittered and her hands turned clammy.
She had to concentrate on Malcolm and his disturbing thoughts about fire, but she couldn’t seem to pry her eyes from the envelope.
How did it get in here? What was inside? Her neck flushed.
“...but I didn’t. I didn’t do it. I just did what you said, but I wanted to, Miss LaCroix. I wanted to watch the fire dance its way through the apartment.”
She gained focus. “Good, Malcolm. I’m glad to hear you didn’t go through with it.”
For the next thirty minutes, she worked tirelessly to concentrate on Malcolm. When he left, she stared at the envelope, gathering the courage to look inside. With shaking hands, she sliced across the top with the letter opener.
Another note.
She squeezed her eyes shut. No, she had to read it. Face this. Be brave.
The note inside read: You work hard. Enjoy a nice night out.
Movie tickets for an outdoor screening of His Girl Friday at the amphitheater and a gift card to a new Cajun restaurant. Seventy-five dollars. That was odd. She glanced around her office, which suddenly felt degrees colder. She peeped through her office window. Nothing abnormal going on, but being in here alone creeped her out. She shoved the envelope in her purse and rushed into the hall, bumping into Roger. “Hey, have you seen Crista?” Maybe someone had given it to her administrative assistant and she’d laid it on her desk.
“No, why?”
“I got a gift. Anonymous.”
“What is it?” he asked.
She told him. Showed him the typed note.
“Looking for a date Saturday night?” He grinned. “Just kidding. Sort of.”
Cosette shook her head at Roger’s teasing and relaxed a fraction. She wasn’t alone anymore. The sunshine brightened the hall, the light chasing away the darkness.
“You okay?”
Cosette smiled and breathed. “Yes. Just threw me for a loop.”
“A good loop. I hear that restaurant is to die for.”
She wasn’t ready to die for Cajun food. Jeffrey was smart and deceptive, but he wouldn’t leave her with an option to take someone else to dinner and a movie, and his note wouldn’t be simple and caring, meant in a friendly way. This gift was different. She’d anonymously done nice things for coworkers and this seemed similar.
She couldn’t shake the eerie notion, though, with everything else transpiring. Something felt off and sent a jolt of uneasiness through her. She glanced outside. Couldn’t stop feeling eyes on her.
She rescheduled the two appointments she had left and texted Wilder to pick her up. “Thanks again for the information, Roger.”
“No problem. How was Malcolm?” Since they’d both treated him, she didn’t mind sharing about the earlier session.
Wilder texted back that he was on his way.
“He’s using the steps we’ve worked on to fight the urge to burn the world down, but he seemed agitated. That was new.”
They discussed Malcolm a few seconds more, until Wilder pulled under the portico. Had he been in the parking lot all this time? That was fast.
“Front-door service these days?” Roger asked, a hint of curiosity and male defeat in his voice.
“It’s not like that.” She held up a hand for Wilder to wait on her.
“What’s it like then?”
Wilder entered the building, eyed Roger discreetly. “Ready, Cosette?” He positioned himself slightly in between her and Roger—as if her colleague was a threat. Get. A. Grip. She needed security, she’d admit, but this