Bad Doctor

46

The singer finishes her set, the lights come back on, we order soft drinks and drink them, then order our dinners and eat them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Willow says.

“Please do.”

“What did you do with the garage door opener?”

“Cleaned it, stepped on it, threw it in the trash. Why?”

“If I had blackmailed you, how much would you have paid?”

“Seriously?”

“Uh huh.”

“A quarter million.”

“You answered quickly.”

“That’s my number.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I used to gamble to relieve stress I’d play till I won or lost two-fifty. That’s my threshold. If you had blackmailed me and asked for anything above that, I’d take my chances with the police.”

“That’s very interesting.”

“I’ll probably spend that much on your cancer treatment anyway,” I say.

She laughs. “You’re a good sport, Gideon.”

“You too,” I say, and mean it.

Willow says, “You keep looking at your phone.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rude.”

“You should check your messages. I know you’re worried about the little girl.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods.

“Thanks.”

I power up my phone and check for new text messages.

And see this:

REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT BEST FRIENDS? THE NURSE CAME THROUGH! MEDICAL RECORDS SHOW CAMERON WAS DYING OF HODGKIN’S DISEASE, NOT WILLOW!

“Is something wrong?” Willow says.

I check the next text and see this:

AMY STOLE WILLOW’S IDENTITY AND PRETENDED TO HAVE CAMERON’S DISEASE!