Surgeon – Chapter Nineteen

NOT EDITED

Chapter Nineteen

12:00 PM; CLINSTONE, LITTLE DELIGHTS DINER

“Look, all I’m saying is the man has issues,” Carter said.

“Damn straight he has issues,” Jacob said, swiping a fry through the ketchup on his plate. “You and Gwen accused him of being a killer, and you referred to him as a power tool instead of, I dunno, a human being.”

“Not to his face.”

“I guarantee you that he heard it, Carter. He does have ears, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Carter sighed. “I’ve apologized to him. Several times.”

“An apology doesn’t mean shit if you try to knock him the fuck over when he’s trying to do his damn job.”

“Okay, fine. Point proven. But my point still stands. The dude needs help.”

“Why? Because he’s smarter than we are?”

“Did you know he smokes?”

Jacob shrugged. “Isn’t really any of my business what he puts in his lungs.”

“Well, I was in the parking lot when he was smoking, and instead of dropping it to the ground like a normal person, he ground it into his palm, Jake.”

Jacob winced. “Isn’t that a form of self-harm?” Caleb nodded. Jacob cleared his throat. “We can’t really do anything about it, you know. We can’t.”

“I know. But I–I feel like it’s my fault,” Carter said.

“It’s not your fault,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “You may have attributed to the way he feels about the station, but it didn’t begin with you.”

Carter sighed heavily, passing a hand through his brown hair. “How can you be so nice to him? I mean… how do you do it? He talks down to us.”

“No, he talks down to you, because you’re rude to him. He’s level with me, because I’m polite. And when he is rude to me, when he does talk down to me, you know what I do? Move the fuck on, you know, like adults do. His mind doesn’t function like ours, Carter. His social skills are a lot different. The fact that he can be nice to any of us without being irritated by our stupidity should be more than enough for you,” he said. “Better question, Carter. Why are you such a dick to him? Poor kid never did anything to you.”

“Because he—Well, I don’t know. He’s a douche.”

“No, he’s not,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “You know he’s not. You and Gwen tore him down in one day. It took Gwen, what, six hours to succumb to jealousy and drag you down with her? Grow up, Carter. You’re a fucking adult.” He stood up, pulled out his wallet, and dropped a twenty onto the table. “I hope you come around to learn that you’re just being a total dick to someone who didn’t do shit to deserve that treatment. He’s just a dude. Just a lab geek. You don’t even have to see him most of the time as long as you aren’t in the basement. Just…” Jacob sighed. “Just apologize, man. And mean it. I miss my best friend, and whatever the hell this is now? This isn’t him. This isn’t you. Fix it. Please.”

7:00 PM; CLINSTONE POLICE DEPARTMENT, LAB

Bo had clocked out at five so that the station wouldn’t have to pay him for overtime. He hadn’t actually been working on anything case-related. He simply hadn’t wanted to return to his house, for it wasn’t home. Now, deciding that his cat needed supper, he slung his satchel over one shoulder and left the lab, shutting the door behind him. Gwen was in the morgue, and Bo made it his goal not to look at her as he walked past the door.

Hands shoved into his coat pockets, he walked out of the station and headed to his car. He unlocked his car and pulled open the driver’s side door. “I can smell your cologne, Mister Pitman. You can come out, now,” he said as he slid into his seat.

Jamal Pitman, an imposing older black man, stepped into Bo’s field of vision and offered a tired smile. “Hey, Austen.”

“Mister Pitman.” Bo turned the key in the ignition, clearing his throat. “Even if you kidnap me, I’m not going to California until this case is over.”

“I know. This isn’t about Regina. I just want to talk,” Jamal said softly.

Bo sighed. “Get in here. It’s cold out there.” Just as Jamal made it to the passenger side, Bo leaned over the console and pushed open the door.

“Thank you,” Jamal said as he slid into the seat.

Bo nodded as he shut his own door. “No problem, Mister Pitman.” He lifted his satchel over his head and set it in the backseat. “How’d you get here? I don’t see Frank lurking around.”

“Got on a plane this afternoon and took a cab to the station,” Jamal said.

“So… no Frank?”

Jamal shook his head. “I figured I could survive an evening without the man. I figured that’d put you more at ease too.”

It did. “When’s your flight back to L.A.?”

“Tomorrow night. I figured the more time we had to chat, the better.”

“Well… you can stay at my house tonight,” Bo said. After buckling his seatbelt, he shifted into gear and backed out of his parking spot. “I’m sorry about Regina, Mister Pitman,” he said finally.

Jamal leaned back. “Our department’s taking care of it. We’ll find who killed her.”

“The department’s great, Mister Pitman. Of course you’ll find who did it,” Bo said. He glanced over at Jamal, catching sight of the pistol holstered on his hip just as Bo pulled out onto the road. “If you’re going to kill me, let me pull over before you do it, all right? I don’t need to veer off into traffic and kill anyone.”

“What? Bo, Jesus Christ.” Jamal grabbed his gun and set it in Bo’s lap. One of Bo’s hands fell from the steering wheel to cover the gun. “The safety’s on, kid. That’s not what I’m here for.”

Bo’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Then what is this for, Jamal?” he asked, finally willing to drop the formality of Jamal’s last name.

“Kathy’s sick.”

Bo looked over at Jamal, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Cancer. Liver. I–it’s not bad, but… she’s sick, nonetheless.”

Bo’s gaze shifted back to the road. He cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me that.”

“You were close to her, Bo.”

“A lot of people were close to her. You adopted her. What’s your point?”

“I… thought you might like to know, visit her as a precaution,” Jamal said. He shifted in his seat. “You know… in case she takes a turn for the worse.”

Bo shook his head. “How long ago?”

“They’ve been running tests for almost two weeks. They found it yesterday.”

“She’ll be okay.”

Jamal blew out a breath, shaking his head.

“What?”

The older man lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know. I was expecting a different reaction. I was actually… worried about how you’d react when you found out. It’s why I wanted you in California, so we could talk in person.”

“I’m not that close to Kathy. She wanted me to solve cases for her, and that was about the extent of it.”

“The way you reacted when I arrested them says otherwise. You refused to testify against them. You use to talk to them both on the phone… often.”

Bo chose not to remind Jamal that he was the reason Bo no longer spoke to either prisoner consistently. “Yes.”

“So how the hell do you not care?”

“My reactions and refusals weren’t about Kathy.”

Jamal glanced up for a moment. “Ah. Silver.” He nodded. “I should’ve known.”

Bo’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never known Katherine to make many friends. I should’ve known that was no different with you. Plus, she was never a fan of people who were admittedly smarter than her.”

“Then she should hate Dallas too.”

“Watch it,” Jamal said, his voice dipping into its lower, more ominous register.

Bo had come face-to-face with that register one too many times to be too bothered by it. “Does Dallas know?”

“Yes. They told him this afternoon, I believe.”

“Is he okay?”

“Dallas is fine,” Jamal said. “Still a bastard, but he’s fine. That’s all I have for you in regards to Silver.”

“So you don’t visit him? Ever?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“He’s your son-in-law.”

“He can go fuck himself. If he were the one who was sick, there would be true justice in this world,” Jamal said.

Bo’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “If you’re going to ambush me outside my workplace, the least you can do is respect Dallas while you’re in my car.”

Jamal looked over at the blonde, a frown etched on his face. He had never seen the young man so full of tension. “Of course. I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Bo shook his head. He reached over Jamal to open the glove compartment and grabbed his unopened pack of cigarettes. He needed something to fiddle with one-handed, and with his only other option being Jamal’s gun—still seated in his lap—he’d prefer the plastic wrap on the pack.

Jamal cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Not often. I try to regulate higher stress situations with it,” Bo said. “You know, like the day you forced me to testify against one of the only people I’ve ever truly allowed into my life.”

“Ah.”

“You could’ve called me. You didn’t have to come here to tell me this,” he said, flipping on his turn signal.

“I assumed you would ignore my call. Again,” Jamal said. “And I said, I assumed you would be more bothered by Kathy’s illness. I was worried about…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know what you would do.”

“I have a case to solve. This man, or men, are dropping victims like flies. I have no intention of taking myself out with an open case in my lap.”

“Bo—”

“Don’t. I don’t—I can’t talk about this. I have more than enough to deal with here, I don’t need this tacked on right now,” Bo said. He pulled into his driveway and shut off the car. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Have you had supper?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“No.”

Bo nodded. “Come on in then. I’ll make you something. Gotta eat, old man.”

“I can stay in a hotel, Bo. I have a room booked. You don’t need to take care of me.”

“Making sure you’re fed isn’t the hard part of any of this. Knowing that you turned against me, knowing that you hate me, because I can’t bring myself to hate Dallas… That’s the hard part.”

“I don’t…” Whatever emotion had been on Jamal’s face disappeared, like it always did. “Are you coming back to California when this case is over?”

Bo sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Yes. I already know who hates me and who tolerates me there. I should’ve stayed.”

“You should have.”

“You fired me.”

“You gave up much too easy. You’ve always disobeyed and wormed your way back into the department. I was disappointed that this time wasn’t the same.”

“You sentenced Dallas to life in prison. You and Kathy took away one of the only people who ever truly understood me. I had no reason left to fight for my job.”

For a fleeting moment, Jamal almost looked… saddened. It didn’t stay long, of course. “I expect you to be back in LA and at the station within a week of this case ending. Otherwise, you’re out of a job in Los Angeles on a permanent basis. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jamal nodded tersely and shoved open the door. “I’ll see you then.”

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