Protective Behavior

by L A Witt

  Not feeling safe and secure on my own merits was fucking with me. What was even worse was the fact that when I did feel safe now, it was because I was with Mark. Not in my home, not with my coworkers, not lost in the relative anonymity of a crowd—just with Mark. And that scared the shit out of me.

  Not quite enough to make me run, but enough to make me grateful that he was taking precautions to make sure we weren’t followed. Shaking a tail wasn’t a perfect science, he’d said, but I trusted him.

  Mark had driven us to the restaurant we were in now, doubling back and taking side streets and generally acting a little cloak-and-daggerish, and after what had been going on with Officer Russel, I was grateful. Dinner was Thai food—green papaya salad and a spicy, sweet shrimp and noodle dish we shared. It started to rain while we sat there, the windows spattered and streaming with water as gusts of wind blew it into the glass. The neon of the restaurant’s huge OPEN sign reflected reddish-pink onto the sidewalk, washed out a little by the light of the street lamp just beyond it.

  We were the only customers tonight, and I doubted anyone was walking the streets in this weather. Sitting there with a half-empty plate across from Mark, I felt like I could relax for the first time since talking with Prasun earlier in the day.

  “I feel bad for throwing all my stuff at you while you’re already putting so much time into this case,” I confessed between sips of a light, inoffensive beer.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  I grinned. I didn’t know Mark all that well, but him trying to make me feel better by telling me I was ridiculous seemed really on-brand for him. “Seriously. I get that you don’t mind, and I appreciate that, but I still feel kind of guilty over it.”

  Mark set his water glass down, in exactly the same ring of condensation that had formed there an hour ago when we first sat at the table. He looked at me, and his expression was somewhere between serious and compassionate. It was a look I knew really well—I used it almost every day in my work. I just didn’t see it turned on me all that often.

  “Apart from the fact that you’re integral to the case I’m trying to build, you’re… important, Ryan. To me. I want to know when you’re uncomfortable, especially when a cop of all people is making you feel afraid. I might not be able to do anything about it yet, but I can’t even try to help if I don’t know what’s going on. So please, don’t feel bad for telling me. I’d never forgive myself if… well.” He cleared his throat. “I prefer having more information to less, all right?”

  He was completely sincere, I could see that in the earnest lean of his body, hear it in every syllable of his little speech. I resisted the urge to look away. How did people not just confess to Mark immediately, when he pulled out that voice? I felt completely transparent listening to it, and I didn’t even mind.

  “Thank you.” My face was hot, and I hoped the dim lighting in the restaurant hid my blush. “I didn’t mean to take you up on your offer for another evening together so quickly, but I’m glad we came out tonight.” I wasn’t looking forward to going home, either, but that was just something I’d have to deal with.

  “Me too.” He sat back in his chair and glanced outside. “Do you want to—”

  My phone began to buzz. I glanced at it and sighed, half in relief and half annoyance. “It’s work. I’m being called in.” Again. It wasn’t as nice as spending more time with Mark, but it was better than sitting in my empty house wondering if Officer Russel was watching my windows behind a pair of binoculars.

  “Okay.” Mark put his napkin on the table and got to his feet. “Would you like a lift home, or do you want to grab another rideshare from here?” I’d taken a rideshare to the police station, wanting to avoid using my car in case Officer Russel was… What, tracking it? Tracking my dumb car? Why would he even bother, when he already knew where I worked and lived and probably how little I did between those two things? Paranoia was getting the better of me.

  “I’d love a lift, thanks.” Our bill was already paid, so all there was left to do was thank the owners, then run out into the rain to where Mark had left his car a block away. My jacket handled the worst of the wet, but my hair was dripping by the time we got there.

  I ran my fingers through it and frowned. “I’m afraid I’m going to make a mess of your seat unless you have a towel handy,” I said, glancing at Mark, who of course didn’t even have a hair out of place.

  “It’s not a problem,” he replied, looking at me less like I was a wet dog and more like I was putting on a show. Which… maybe I kind of was, because I knew what I looked like fresh out of the shower and it wasn’t bad at all, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Consider it done, then,” I said with a wink as I sat back.

  It took less than ten minutes to get to the hospital, and it was an easy, comfortable ten minutes that left my fingers itching to reach out and touch Mark. Since I couldn’t, since we weren’t doing that until the case was over, I touched myself instead. Little things, like sweeping my hair back from my forehead and tugging the damp ends of it so I could roll the water off onto my shirt instead of his leather seat. Mark did a decent job driving, considering he was looking at me for probably fifty percent of the trip. I felt downright cheerful as he pulled up outside the front doors, which was a pleasant return to form.

  “Thanks for the ride, and the company,” I said, holding out my hand.

  He shook it firmly, and let go a little too slowly for it to be unintentional. “You’re welcome.”

  God, I wanted to hug him, or lean over and kiss him. I wanted to so bad that if I didn’t get out of the car right the fuck now, I might spontaneously combust. “I’ll talk to you soon.” I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the car door, but Mark’s hand on my shoulder stopped me from hopping out.

  “Be safe, okay?” he said quietly. “Keep a watch out for Russel or DeMarco. Get pictures or a video if you can, but first and foremost, be safe.”

  “I will be,” I promised. “You too.” I left his car before it got too hard to, and walked into the ED with a spring in my step.

  Ronnie was the charge nurse tonight, thank Christ. She saw me coming and her eyes went a little wide. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she murmured as I walked by. “You look pleased with yourself. I thought you’d be pissed to get hauled out into the rain this late. Which, I’m sorry about that, but—”

  “It’s no problem! I’m always happy to come to work and spend time doing what I love,” I said as I headed for the locker room.

  “You’ve been doing something you love, all right,” she called after me with a grin. “Or maybe someone.”

  Ha, not even close enough to true to satisfy me. But if I couldn’t be with Mark, then at least I could be busy here. I stopped in front of my locker, took a deep breath, and got my mind back on task.

  I hadn’t volunteered for so many extra shifts since my first year at All Saints’. Over the next two days I only left the hospital once, for about twelve hours, and then I was back again. Ronnie accused me of haunting the place, and even Pamela seemed a little concerned, but it was perfect. All of the public areas had video surveillance, which meant I’d have a record of anything that went on there, and when I was working it was easy to see who was in the waiting room. No Officer Russel, no Officer DeMarco, and for the first full day I almost forgot I was supposed to be watching for them.

  That changed as soon as I drove home after a double.

  It was sunset, and the parking lot was only half-full by the time I left. As I pulled out onto the road, a set of headlights sprang to life behind me. A nondescript silver sedan followed me away from the hospital complex and onto the highway. I tried to ignore it, but my hackles rose as it took the same exit that I did. I switched up my route home and lost it after the first turn, but once I got to my street—

  There it was. It had beaten me here, was sitting right there in front of my neighbor’s house. I couldn’t see through the windows—those were tinted—but I fucking knew who it was. I
wanted to go over to that car and hammer my fist against the door, hammer it into that bastard’s damn nose, because—

  No. I took a deep breath, then parked in my garage instead of in the driveway like I usually did. Paranoia, what could I say? I went through the door into the kitchen. I took off my shoes, checked my mail, and put water on for pasta before I let myself glance out of my front window. Yep. Still there.

  Was I being weird? Was it even the same car? There were a hell of a lot of Civics on the road. It might not be the same. I decided to call Prasun.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Look, Ryan, I’m sorry about bailing on this situation but I couldn’t take the pressure, okay? I’m—”

  “Wait a second.” I raised my hand even though he wasn’t there to see it. “What are you talking about?”

  “Didn’t you get my texts?”

  Oh shit. I hadn’t, I’d turned my phone off for the whole time I was at work. I never left it on there if I could help it. Anyone who really needed to talk to me could contact me through the charge nurse. Besides, if I’d kept it on me I would have been checking it every five minutes for a text from Mark, and that was just sad. “I didn’t see them come in, sorry.”

  “I’m officially on vacation, man. The kiddo and I are going back to Kolkata for a few weeks. Her grandparents are thrilled.” Prasun didn’t sound thrilled himself, but he did sound relieved. “I just… Rutuja saw the guy. My ex saw him. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle. I need to be somewhere else for a while.”

  “Oh.” Fuck. “I get it,” I said mechanically. “I do. You’ve got to do what’s right for your family.”

  “I don’t mean to leave you in the lurch, but you’ve got your cop friend, right? He’s working on this, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Absolutely.” It was fucked up that Prasun literally had to leave the country to feel safer, but I hoped that that the officers would care less about him once he was no longer convenient for them to stalk. “It’s going to be fine,” I said, trying to sound like I believed it. “It’ll probably all have blown over once you get back. Um, has Danny mentioned anybody following him?” Danny was Prasun’s usual partner in the ambulance.

  “Not at all. Weird, right? Why follow just me and not him?”

  I considered it for a second. It was weird. Why would they ignore Danny? Maybe because…

  Oh.

  Maybe because I was friends with Prasun, but not with Danny. Maybe because I was the one they were really interested in, and Prasun just got caught up in it because the cops wanted to cover all their bases. Maybe I was the reason he was forced to go on a damn vacation just to get away from their surveillance, and now it would be easier for them to team up watching me and hope I gave something away. After all, I was the guy who’d taken charge as soon as Martin had arrived at the hospital. I was the one who’d tried to go to his funeral. Suspicious, from their perspective. Their fucked up, bullshit perspective. And if Prasun was an easy target to torment so they could get to me, then why wouldn’t they?

  “Weird,” I said through slightly numb lips. “I’m glad you’re out of it, though. Have fun with your folks.”

  “Take care of yourself, Ry, okay?”

  “Always.” I ended the call, stared at my phone, and bit down on the sudden urge to go out there and bust that asshole’s windows with the baseball bat I kept under my bed.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I told myself. “Don’t be stupid.” I didn’t need to give them more reasons to fuck with me, and acting like a maniac would only elevate their scrutiny. This was… It was… It was fine. Whatever, not fine, but not my fault either. By the time Prasun came back, these guys might even be in custody, and I wouldn’t have to feel so horribly guilty about drawing their attention to him. It wasn’t okay yet, but it would be.

  In the meantime, I was going to a place I usually never bothered with—the gym. I didn’t actually have a membership there, but Camille did, and she’d given me some guest passes for the hospital’s staff gift exchange. I was going to go to her exclusive, private gym, and I was going to work out until I wanted to fall over, and I was going to make those fuckers following me sweat just as hard trying to keep track of me.

  I told you not to be stupid, part of my mind screamed at me as I turned off the stove and went to change my clothes. I was exhausted from work, I was hungry, I was shaking with anger and sick with guilt. Staying in really would be the smart thing to do right now.

  “At least it’s not a baseball bat,” I muttered to myself as I stripped out of my scrubs.

  I took a long, circuitous path to the gym, leaving the car that was following me in the dust after ten minutes. They knew where I worked and where I lived, which were ninety percent of the places I spent time in. My friend’s gym didn’t make the list. I got on a stationary bike once I was inside—trying to be good to my legs—and rode for over an hour before calling it quits and treating myself to some time in the hot tub. Was I wasting time? Absolutely. Did I care that I was probably pissing my stalkers off right now? Not as much as I probably should have.

  Once I finally drove back home, I was completely unsurprised to find another, not-quite-identical car sitting a little ways from my house. Of course. If Officer DeMarco wasn’t watching Prasun now, then he and Russel could double-team me. I made sure to catch the car with the camera as I rode up my driveway.

  It felt good to fuck with them in the moment, but I regretted it the next morning when my shin splints informed me that, yes, if you pedaled for long enough, it counted as weight-bearing exercise even if you were on a bicycle. I showered, took some painkillers and came into work almost on time, with just a bit of a limp. I hadn’t stopped to make coffee at home, though, so on my first break, around ten o’clock, I headed for the cafeteria for some caffeine and carbs.

  I was tired, really tired. That was the only excuse I had for not noticing the man in line behind me. All I knew was that he stood a little too close for comfort, but I didn’t actually look at him until I was sitting down at a small table with just two chairs. I almost dropped my cup when Officer Russel, dressed in civilian clothes and looking fresh as a daisy with his own cup of coffee in hand, sat across from me.

  “Doctor Campbell,” he said genially, a smile on his face. It didn’t come anywhere near his eyes, though. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Yeah, how about that? In the hospital. Where I work.” I didn’t even try to contain my scowl. “What are you doing here, Officer Russel?”

  “Ah, you remember me. That’s good.” He sipped his coffee. “And I feel like maybe you aren’t allowed to ask me what I’m doing here. Isn’t there a rule about that? Hippie, or something?”

  “That’s HIPAA, and it only safeguards you from the misuse of personal electronic data, not reasonable questions from the guy you invited yourself to join.”

  “Ah.” Officer Russel nodded. “Well, that clears that up, then, thanks. As long as you’re in a sharing mood, you mind telling me where you drove off to in such a hurry last night?”

  “I do mind,” I said as pleasantly as I could manage. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  “Maybe not, but I think we can both agree that it’s important to share. Right?” He leaned in a little. “For example, you share the details of your little drive with me, and I don’t share the details of your friend’s living arrangements with the immigration people.”

  I almost spit out my coffee. “Prasun is a naturalized American citizen,” I snapped. “They can’t do anything to him.”

  “Yeah, but he’s got plenty of extended family that isn’t so squeaky clean, right? Or didn’t you know?” Officer Russel shook his head. “It’s amazing, the things you might not know, Doc. Important things. Things that could save your life, or things that could get you killed. I’d think you’d understand that, working in the ED like you do.”

  Was he… threatening to kill me? Not just menacing Prasun, not just dogging my footsteps, but actually threatening to murder me? Why the hell hadn
’t I started my phone recording when he first sat down? It was too late to reach for it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” I told him flatly. “All I did last night was go to the gym.”

  “Since when do you go to the gym?”

  I forced a smile. “Since I don’t care to bike in the rain. And really, you’re wasting your time on me. I don’t know anything important that’s relevant to your case.”

  “Maybe you don’t, maybe you do. Why don’t you talk a little more with me, help me get to the bottom of things?” Russel was still smiling. It was disturbing how perfectly his lips held the expression, like his face had frozen that way. “Ease my mind, maybe.”

  “I told you, I don’t—”

  “We can start by you talking to me about Martin Frederick’s personal effects.”

  I pushed my coffee and croissant away and stood up from the table. “I gave you everything of his that he came in with.”

  “Did you, though? Are you sure?”

  “What use would I have for a dead man’s belongings?” I asked as calmly as I could manage.

  “Hard to say. Maybe you have some sort of sick fetish for ‘em. There are lots of freaks out there, maybe people who’d pay to own something that a person lifted off a fresh corpse.” Russel stared at me intently. “Maybe we need to start up a new investigation, only with a different target this time.”

  He was trying to scare me into giving something up. The worst part was, I was scared. I couldn’t let him know that, though. “Get out of my hospital,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Or what? You’ll have security throw me out?” He shook his head. “Nah. Not when I’m just sitting here, not causing any trouble. I may not be on duty at the moment, but I’ve still got my badge.” He tapped his jacket pocket. “And I’ve got nowhere better to be, so I think I’ll stay right where I am. You get another break at some point in your shift, right? When you do, I’ll be waiting for you. Or maybe someone else will.” He tilted his head a little. “Either way, you can’t drive away from us forever, Doc. The truth will come out.”