Page 74 of No Offense

“No,” Molly said meekly.

“Then please leave. I need a word with this patient and her family in private.”

“Of course,” Molly said, and started to leave, but Tabitha’s strident voice stopped her.

“No!” Tabitha cried. “If she goes, I want my parents to go!”

“But, Tabby—” Her mother drew away from her, looking stricken.

“Everyone goes!” Tabitha was practically screaming.

Dr. Nguyen’s voice was crisp. “I don’t want my patient upset. Everyone, please go.”

Molly shuffled out into the hall with Tabitha’s parents. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Mr. Brighton turned to Molly and asked, “What on earth did you show her that got her so upset?”

Molly lifted her cell phone and showed them. “That’s her boyfriend. I think their trip around the world is going to be delayed for a while.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

John

John sat down at the table in Interview Room 3 and studied the individual sitting across from him. He always forgot, except when he was in his presence, how small Larry Beckwith III, aka Dylan Dakota, was. Small but wiry, of course, and able to slip in and out of tight spaces undetected... undetected except for the destruction he left behind.

“So, Larry,” John said, conversationally. “Can I get you anything? I understand you’ve already had your morning coffee, but how about some soda? Juice? Water?”

Larry smiled at him. He looked perfectly at ease in the stiff-backed wooden chair. And why wouldn’t he? John had removed his handcuffs—Beckwith wasn’t going anywhere.

“There’s only one thing I want,” Larry Beckwith said. “And that’s my lawyer.”

“Oh, right.” John nodded. “You said that before, whenMartinez was bringing you in. I understand your lawyer is on his way. But it’s a long drive from Miami. I thought maybe you and I could pass the time while we wait having a little chat.”

Beckwith sneered. “My lawyer doesn’t drive anywhere. He’s taking his private jet.”

John frowned. “Well, it will be a while before the jet is fueled up, the pilots get the flight plan, and all of that. Just out of curiosity, doesn’t it bother you, employing a law firm that leaves such a huge carbon footprint, flying everywhere to meet their clients? That’s something that would worry my daughter—she’s just a few years younger than you. She’s all about trying to save the planet, the polar bears, the melting glaciers. That doesn’t upset you?”

Beckwith only smirked at him some more and said,“Lawyer.”

“Yeah.” John nodded again. “I get it. You don’t want to talk. And that’s your right—as you know, because you’ve been read your rights. But I’m just curious, since you have a daughter now, too. Believe me, if she ends up anything like mine, she’ll read you the riot act when she’s older about wasting fossil fuels.”

This caused the smirk on Beckwith’s face to turn into a slightly suspicious frown.

“I never waste fossil fuels. I’m as eco-conscious as can be. I can’t help what my lawyers do. And I don’t have a daughter.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” John said. “We got the results of the blood test on that baby we found last week in the ladies’room of the library. And not to go all Jerry Springer on you, Larry, but... youarethe father.”

All the blood drained from Beckwith’s face, causing his dark goatee and neck tattoos to stand out starkly against his pale skin.

John assumed he wasn’t going to say anything—except “Lawyer”—and was about to go on when Beckwith surprised him by suddenly leaping from his chair, knocking it over behind him, and bringing both fists down, hard, on the tabletop in front of him.

“No!” he bellowed. “That isn’t true!”

John stayed calmly in his seat, knowing there were several people watching from behind the two-way mirror who would come rushing in to restrain Beckwith if he needed them to.

But John wouldn’t need them to. He could handle this little twerp all by himself.

“Struck a chord there, did I, Larry?” he asked mildly. “Frankly, I don’t get why you’re so surprised. You haven’t exactly been discreet about any of this. You confessed to Dorothy Tifton at the Coffee Cubano that you’re the one who robbed her house and destroyed the media room in her new library. We found the items you stole from her in your locker at the gym. We have your prints and hair on everything that you touched, practically. It’s almost like you wanted to get caught this time. It’s so unlike you. What’s going on?”

His shoulders drooping, Beckwith turned around, pickedup the chair, and sat back down in it. Then he folded his arms across the table and buried his face in them.