Max - Bey Deckard Page 0,18

down at Crane who was frozen in his seat. “Were you thinking of stopping this? Stopping us? I wouldn’t like that.” The muscles rolled in Max’s jaw as he stared at Crane.

Quickly, Crane shook his head, his fear full-blown. “No… no… of course not,” he said, chuckling faintly. “Of course not. I was joking, Max. Come on… What do you take me for?”

Max’s expression smoothed out and he smiled. “That’s better.”

Crane was certain Max didn’t believe him. Oh God. Was Max just playing around with his emotions? Was he serious? Crane wondered what the fuck he was going to do.

“Don’t worry… I’ll keep our little secret safe.” Max patted his pocket with a grin. “I gotta run, Doc. I’ll text you later.” He leaned down and pecked a kiss on Crane’s cheek before he left the small office.

Crane barely made it to the trash can in time before he was sick.

6

Say Yes

Friday, August 12th

Mary pushed her dark bangs out of her eyes and frowned at Crane. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself here? I could call my mother and see if she could drop by—”

“It’s just a stomach bug. I’m going to be fine… I’ll binge that crime drama I’ve been meaning to watch,” replied Crane with a reassuring smile. “Besides, your mom’s got her hands full taking care of your dad these days. She doesn’t need another patient to worry about.”

Twisting her mouth to the side, Mary sighed. She reached out and brushed her fingertips against his cheek, shaking her head. “My poor baby. And you were so looking forward to this trip.”

“I know. It sucks. But I can’t imagine being stuck in a car for three hours, and it won’t be a hell of a lot of fun for you guys when we have to stop at every gas station bathroom from here to Québec City.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, his belly twisting not with sickness but with a cocktail of breathless dread and perverse excitement. He watched his wife pick up her suitcase and sling her purse over her arm.

“Jean-Yves is a lucky man, having you two pretty ladies all to himself the whole weekend,” he joked.

Laughing, Mary shook her head. “You know you’re going to have to make it up to him for trapping him in the hell of sightseeing all weekend with two shopaholics.” She looked at her watch. “Well… I’m off, then, I guess. Drink lots of liquids. Call me if there’s anything.” She leaned in to kiss him, but he ducked back before she made contact.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” he explained.

“Right.” With a sympathetic smile, Mary blew him a kiss instead, and he mimed catching it and putting it in his pocket.

“Have fun, honey.”

“Get well soon… I’ll text you when we get to the hotel.”

Crane shut the door behind Mary and stood in the window, watching as she stored her bags in the trunk of her Prius. He waved to her as she drove away, and as soon as she was around the bend, he locked the door and ran upstairs.

“What am I doing?” Crane muttered to himself as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’d shaved, trimmed his sideburns, showered, combed his hair into a neat part, and had just put on cologne when he realized he was acting like he was about to go on a date. He scowled at his reflection. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. Shouldn’t have let Max talk him into this. But there was the small matter of the video.

Smiling bitterly, he turned away from the mirror. Do you really think you’re doing this because of the video?

Crane walked into the bedroom and slid open the closet door, looking for a clean shirt. As he was deciding between the blue and the grey button-down, he heard a noise downstairs and froze. Pulse speeding, he held his breath, listening hard. The fridge door. A cupboard.

Someone was in the kitchen.

Apprehensively, he walked to the upstairs landing and leaned over the railing. “Mary?”

“Hey, Doc,” said Max, stepping into view. He smiled up at Crane.

Closing his eyes, Crane tightened his hands on the banister and sighed. Was he so far gone that he was relieved that it was just a psycho in his kitchen and not his wife about to catch him in his lie?

“Doc?”

“I’ll be down in just a minute. Help yourself to a beer from the fridge,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady.