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Siggy was growling, his teeth bared.
“Call off your dog,” Constantine demanded. “If he attacks, I’ll shoot him.”
“No!” Sam thrashed, trying to knock McKittrick off him, but she shoved her knee into his kidney. Pain flared but fear for Siggy kept him struggling. “Don’t hurt my dog! Please don’t hurt him!”
Siggy was approaching, lowered in a crouch, snarling at McKittrick in a way that Sam had never heard before.
“I hate it when they have dogs,” Constantine muttered.
“Tell him ‘down,’ Dr.Reeves,” McKittrick said calmly. “You can call someone to come and get him.”
Mom and Dad. They’d come for Siggy. They could be here in two minutes.
And see me cuffed and arrested.
No. That wouldn’t do. His father would have another stroke.
I’ll sort this out. I’ll explain and they’ll let me go. Mom and Dad will never be the wiser.
He got control of his breathing and, as calmly as he could muster, told Siggy, “Down, boy. It’s all right. Down.”
Siggy dropped to his belly but continued to growl menacingly.
“Do you want to call someone to get him?” McKittrick asked, her knee still in his kidney.
Sam didn’t like her so much anymore.
“Yeah,” he grunted out. “I have a dog walker.” A college student who lived on his floor. But he’d never called her this late before.
McKittrick patted him down and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Tell me your code and I’ll call her for you.”
No. Clarity was returning with a rush of anger. This is wrong. I was trying to help you and this is the thanks I get?
Although he could see their point of view. It looked bad. But I’m not bad. He’d make them see that.
Still, he wasn’t going to give the cops any more ammunition to use against him. Once he gave them his phone code, they’d have access to his personal life.
His personal session notes.
“No,” he said, trying for calm. He needed to see to Siggy’s safety first. He didn’t think Constantine would shoot his dog, but he couldn’t be sure. “If you’ll let me put him in his crate, I’ll call the dog walker when my hands are freed.”
“Suit yourself.” Her weight disappeared from his back and he drew a deep breath, fighting nausea. “Up.” She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet.
If he weren’t so furious and about to throw up, he’d be impressed. Sam was six feet tall and weighed one-eighty. McKittrick didn’t look like she was big enough to manage him like that.
“If you’d let me explain, none of this will be necessary,” he said, using his therapist’s voice.
She huffed a mirthless chuckle. “Go ahead. I’m listening. You’ve called me twice, Dr.Reeves, and neither time did you give me a valid explanation, but by all means, explain.”
“First, I need to know if you found anything in the park.”
“I’m not telling you anything. You wanted to explain. So explain.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, considering his options. He couldn’t tell her anything until she confirmed that there was indeed a body. That was the point of this entire exercise. If he spilled everything now, he could lose his license, especially if Colton was lying.
“I can’t. Not until I know what you found in the park.”
“Then we’re at an impasse,” she said, still cold. “Where is your dog’s crate?”
