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slid out of the booth. “I gotta go. You know where to find me if you need me. Like for the next million years….”

Chapter 21

Fia had no intention of going to the appointment Joseph had set up with Dr. Kettleman. There was no way she could do it today, or even this week. By the time she got to Philly, went to the appointment, and drove back, she’d be lucky to make it to the Hill to meet Glen by eight. She was also concerned Glen would be suspicious if she didn’t have anything to produce for the hours she supposedly had been interviewing. He was already acting suspicious.

But after another more heated phone conversation with Joseph, after she left the diner, she decided to go to the appointment, have it out with him, and be done with it. The last couple of days, between interviews, she’d been doing some research on the Internet and she’d found some interesting information she doubted Joseph would want her or anyone else to know about. It might just be the leverage she needed to get him out of her jurisdiction and her life.

After going to the police station, chatting with Uncle Sean, and then using the computers to access some information she couldn’t reach with her laptop, Fia made a point of mentioning that she was going to interview some human teens who lived in the area. That way, if Glen happened to stop by the station and ask for her, the officers or Uncle Sean would provide a feasible alibi. Fia hated the idea of letting her personal life take precedent over her job, even for a few hours, but she wasn’t putting anyone at risk by taking a few hours off. And if she didn’t get rid of Joseph, it was entirely possible he could interfere with her job.

Fia was in Philly by five-fifteen. She ran by her apartment to check on her cat, who Betty was keeping an eye on. She stopped at Betty’s to see if the elderly woman needed anything, and then went to Dr. Kettleman’s, hoping she might be able to get a word in with the psychiatrist before Joseph arrived.

He beat her there and, because Dr. Kettleman’s previous appointment had cancelled, Joseph was already seated on the cozy couch inside her office, chatting about some reality TV show about fashion designers they both watched.

“Fia.” Joseph’s face lit up as he rose to greet her, arms outstretched as if they were lovers, or at least old friends. She considered him neither.

The look on Dr. Kettleman’s face told Fia that he already had her hoodwinked. She was at once disappointed in the doctor. So what if Joseph was charismatic? A psychiatrist should be able to see past the thousand-dollar suit and tooth veneers to the black rot of a man’s soul.

“Joseph.” Fia greeted him coolly, averting his embrace. “Dr. Kettleman.” She nodded.

“Glad you could make the appointment after all,” the psychiatrist said, crossing her legs. “I think this is a step in the right direction. So let’s get started.” She gestured to the couch.

Fia sat on the far end, as far from Joseph as she could get.

Dr. Kettleman clasped her hands. “Now, Fia and I have been discussing, over the last couple of weeks, her concern about the two of you living in such close proximity. How do you feel about that, Joseph?”

“I think Fia is making way too much out of this.” He raised his manicured hands innocently. “Years have passed since our relationship ended. We’ve both matured. We—”

“You promised you would go and never come back, Joseph. You swore to me.”

Dr. Kettleman looked from Fia to Joseph. “Did you make that promise, Joseph?”

His smile grew taut. “I did, but that was a long time ago. I had no idea I’d become a plastic surgeon of such renown. No idea my partner and I would feel the need to expand beyond California.”

“You can’t stay here,” Fia said.

Joseph whipped around. “And why not!” he shouted. “Why not?”

Fia was so astounded that he had dropped his cool facade that it took her a moment to recover. This was the Joseph she knew. Not a Joseph she feared, but one she knew well enough to fear for others. “Because of my job. Because I know you and I know your habits.”

He scowled.

Fia lifted her chin in the psychiatrist’s direction. “Tell Dr. Kettleman why you’re leaving California.”

“I’m opening a new office.”

“The truth.” She stared at him.

He stared back and she was relieved to find that she no longer felt even a hint of desire for him. She hated him. She hated herself for what he was. What she had made him.

Fia looked at Dr. Kettleman. “It seems that Joseph has a little problem with picking up women in bars. He gets them drunk, convinces them to take him home, and then nearly kills them with his greed.” As the words came out of her mouth, she got a chill down her spine. It was like some weird flash of déjà vu.

“So what I’m hearing is that your bloodletting with humans has possibly gotten out of hand, Joseph?” Dr. Kettleman asked calmly.

Joseph looked at Fia in confusion.

“You don’t really think I would see a human psychiatrist,” Fia said, deadpan. “She’s one of us. A second cousin.”

Joseph looked at Dr. Kettleman more closely.

The psychiatrist waggled a finger as if he were a naughty boy. “I’m sorry; we don’t use telepathy in this office, Joseph. It’s not conducive to good sessions. Here, we have to say what we want. We have to exercise our ability to share our feelings verbally.”

Fia was still pondering the previous subject. “Joseph,” she said softly. “You asked me a couple of weeks ago about the Casey Mulvine case. Why did you ask me about her?”

“I told you. I read about it in the paper.” He looked at Dr. Kettleman as if Fia’s question was ridiculous.

“When did you get here?”

“What?” He turned back

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