It’s entirely possible Dr. Conlon is also involved, but it’s clear that Patrice is Kovak’s primary contact. And all this time, she has been reassuring me that she was checking out the clinic and that everything was fine.
“We should make another appointment,” she tells me. “Soon.”
“Sure,” I mutter. “Great.”
She tries to rest a hand on my arm, but I shrug her off roughly. I don’t want her to touch me.
Kovak offers me the same phony smile that Patrice has pinned on her face. “Patrice and I have had an excellent discussion about the clinic, and I’ve answered all her questions. I don’t think she has any concerns anymore, do you, Patrice?”
“None at all,” she pipes up.
“In that case,” Kovak says, “I’ll let you go on your way, Patrice. Abe and I have a clinic to attend.”
I want to throw something.
I watch Patrice walk out of the clinic, my hands balled into fists. I am about five seconds away from punching a hole in the wall. How could she have lied to me that way? How could she have pretended she was on my side?
Kovak catches the look on my face and raises his eyebrows. “Easy there, Abe. Don’t do something idiotic.”
“It’s a little too late for that.”
He chuckles, and now I’m about five seconds away from punching a hole in hisface. “You know what, Abe? You’ve been doing such a great job here lately. I don’t think I’m paying you enough. I think you deserve a raise.”
And then he quotes an hourly rate that is twice what I am getting right now.
“I don’t want it,” I hear myself saying, even though God knows, I could use the money. “I just want to stop working here. Please.”
He opens his mouth as if to answer, but then there’s a knock on the door to the waiting room. Our first patient is here.
“Come on,” he says. “We have work to do.”
29
It’stwo in the morning, and a sound in my bedroom jars me out of my restless slumber. I sit bolt upright in bed and discover Mason in the middle of our room. He’s standing over me, his phone in his right hand. I squint into the darkness and rub my eyes.
“For Christ’s sake, it’s two in the morning, Mason,” I say. “Why are you awake?”
“Can’t sleep,” he mumbles.
“Okay…”
“I need help.”
I shake my head, not understanding. “What?”
He runs both hands through his hair, which is already sticking straight up. “I need you to give me something to help me sleep.”
Oh, great. This is the last thing I need. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because you’re a drug dealer.”
“What?”
Mason doesn’t blink. “You work for Kovak. I heard what goes on at that clinic.”
Shit.Shit. I struggle into a sitting position at the edge of the bed, realizing that neither of us is getting to sleep anytime soon. “Nothing goes on at that clinic. I’m not a drug dealer, okay?”
He starts pacing the room. “Abe, you’ve got to give me something. I haven’t slept in a week.”
