I immediately took off, sprinting straight at the guy. Screw smart and sensible. Sometimes you just have to go with expedient.
I thought he would run away. I was sure he would run away. Cue the action music from every cop show ever. This had street chase written all over it.
Only the guy didn’t budge. It wasn’t so much that he froze—more like he’d made a split-second decision. His odds were much better if he stood his ground. It stopped me dead in my tracks.
I pulled up ten feet in front of him and ignored how crazy I must have looked as I walked the rest of the way. I got up right in his grill. “Do I know you?” I asked.
He squinted, lowering his phone. “Excuse me?”
“Because you seem to know me,” I said.
“What are you talking about?”
I pointed at his phone. The screen was black. “One of the tricks of pretending you’re on a phone is to actually be on the phone.”
He turned to walk away but I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“Get lost, asshole,” he said.
“I would if it meant you’d stop following me.”
“Who says I’m following you?”
“Oh, so maybe I’m the lucky one,” said Elizabeth, with perfect timing, as she walked up to us.
“I’m not following you, either,” he said.
“Man, you’re really not good at this,” I said, shaking my head. “When she shows up you’re supposed to act as if this is the first time you’re seeing her. Who is this strange woman suddenly talking to me with this even stranger guy? That’s your play. Instead, you just admitted you’ve already seen both of us together. Total rookie mistake.”
“Listen, I don’t know who the hell either of you are, but—”
“Maybe this will help,” said Elizabeth. She did more than flash her badge. She all but shoved it in his face. “Now that we have that established, it’s really important from this moment on that you don’t bullshit us. Do you understand me?”
There was nothing outwardly menacing about the guy. He looked average. Actually, he looked a little less than average. A bit of a shlub. The before-photo in a diet plan ad. “I’m not following you,” he said, looking Elizabeth square in the eyes.
“Then we’re back to me,” I said. “I’m the one you’re following.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t recall seeing your badge,” he said.
“No, that’s right. You didn’t see it. That’s because you already know who I am and that I don’t have one. If you thought there was a chance, you’d never hit me with a cocky line like that,” I said. “Human nature, pure and simple.”
“I’m afraid he’s right,” said Elizabeth. “And trust me when I tell you how much it pains me to admit that Dr. Reinhart is right about anything. He’s one of those Ivy League professors. Total fancy pants. Then again, you probably already know that, too. Behavioral psychology. So annoying. It’s like he’s living rent-free inside your head.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t have a badge,” I said. “Agent Needham just showed you hers, though, which means you now have to show her some ID.”
“Yes, and then you have to explain why you’re following Dr. Reinhart,” said Elizabeth.
“Tell him what happens if he doesn’t,” I said.
She gave him a quick head to toe. “He looks like he knows.”
“You should tell him anyway. How long can you detain him for? Is it thirty-six hours?” I asked.
“No. It’s forty-eight hours,” she said.
“Wow. Without charging him with anything, right?”
“Yep. That’s how it works.”
“A whole two days,” I said.
“Only it’s never the days that people remember. It’s always the nights.”
“The nights are the worst. A slab for a bed. A rock for a pillow. Sheets like sandpaper.”
“Who said anything about sheets or a pillow?”
“You get the picture,” I said, smiling at the guy. “Zero stars on Tripadvisor.”
This wasn’t good cop, bad cop. This was crazy agent and the nutty professor. It was also damn effective. The guy didn’t know what else to do—except start talking.