A Killer's Mind (Zoe Bentley Mystery #1)(15)

“Bitch,” he muttered, turning away.

“Oh, Earl.” She smiled at him. “That’s really no way to talk to someone who works for the FBI.”





CHAPTER 9

Chicago, Illinois, Monday, July 18, 2016

Tatum had almost decided to let Zoe get to the police headquarters on her own, but he decided at the last moment to pick her up, talk to her a bit before she met Lieutenant Martinez and his fake profiler. It was best to make sure they were on the same page. While he waited for her, he called Marvin to make sure the old man was fine.

“Of course I’m not fine, Tatum. You left me to take care of your beastly creature. It already scratched me twice.”

“I meant how are you aside from Freckle. Are you feeling well? Did you remember to take your pills?”

“I’ve been taking those pills for nine years, Tatum. You think just because you went to Chicago, I’ll suddenly decide to stop? Of course I remember the pills.”

“Good. And what about—”

“I stopped taking the blue one; I told you that. It made my throat itch.”

“What? When?”

“Last week. I told you that, Tatum. Don’t you remember?”

“You didn’t tell me anything about that.” Tatum felt his gut sinking. “Did you ask Dr. Nassar about it?”

“No, there’s no need. I talked to Jenna about it.”

It took Tatum a moment to place the name Jenna as his grandfather’s girlfriend with the cocaine habit. “Is she a doctor?”

“No, but she had the same problem a year ago. Her doctor prescribed her something else. She had some extra, so I’m taking those instead.”

“Marvin, you can’t do that. Talk to Dr. Nassar—”

“Nassar is a busy man, Tatum. And these green ones are great, no side effects—”

“What green ones?”

“The ones Jenna gave me.”

“Do any of these pills have a name? What are you taking?”

“I don’t remember, Tatum, but it’s fine. Jenna told me. She had exactly the same side effects and—”

Tatum noticed Zoe amid the hundreds of people heading out of the terminal. She was striding quickly toward the exit, her gray suitcase dragging behind her.

“Listen, I have to go. Take your damn pills, even the blue one with the itchy throat. And don’t take the ones from Jenna. And call Dr. Nassar. He will give you what you need.”

“I have what I need.”

“If you don’t call Dr. Nassar, I will.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Tatum.”

“Take your pills. And remember to feed the fish. Bye.” He hung up and hurried after Zoe. He caught up with her and tapped her shoulder.

“Dr. Bentley.” He smiled, trying to temporarily set aside Marvin and the green pills.

“Agent Gray. I thought we’d meet at the police station.”

“Yeah, but I figured I could pick you up. I rented a car yesterday, so no need to take a cab.”

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

She seemed to be in a cheerful mood. Perhaps she was glad to get out of the office for a bit. It made Tatum feel better about asking for her.

“Want to grab some breakfast first?” he asked. “There’s a place called Hillary’s Pancake House not far from here, and it has some nice reviews on Yelp.”

“Sure,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “I’d kill for some coffee.”

“Let’s go, then,” he said. “Want me to get your suitcase?”

“I’m fine.”

The drive to Hillary’s Pancake House was quick. It was still just a bit before rush hour, and Chicago was still waking up. The pancake house itself seemed a bit of a letdown, a dirty-looking structure with dark windows and a sign with the place’s name alongside the image of a woman holding a shining plate of pancakes, a murderous grin on her face. Once inside, though, it looked distinctly better. The interior was mostly wooden, radiating a homely atmosphere. The smell of sizzling oil and coffee intermingled in Tatum’s nose, cuing his stomach to rumble hungrily. The place was half-full, mostly with men and women dressed for their nine-to-five office work and a couple of sleepy-looking cops who were probably at the end of their midnight shift.

“Good morning,” their waitress chirped as soon as they sat, dropping menus in front of them. She was young and blonde, her hair in a ponytail, and Tatum did his best to focus on her eyes and to avoid glancing at her chest in her tight uniform. His eyes kept gliding downward anyway, so he ended up looking at her nose most of the time.

“Would you like me to give you a few moments to—”

“Coffee, please,” Tatum said, before their waitress could make her escape. “And the . . .” He glanced at the menu, choosing the first option that sounded good. “Apple and spice pancakes.”

“That dish has nuts; is that okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Bacon and eggs for me, please,” Zoe said. “The eggs sunny-side up and the bacon extra crispy.”

“Okay. And coffee for you as well?”

“Yes. Very strong. And seriously, you can’t make that bacon too crispy as far as I’m concerned.”