"It's recent," I said. "We hadn't gotten to the stage of telling anyone. Ricky told Don last night."
"Which I suppose explains Don's message asking me to phone him in the morning. You are both my clients, Olivia. I already warned you that any relationship--"
"I'm not your client anymore."
"You are my employee. Which is worse."
"Can we discuss this later?" I said. "That girl's freaked out, and I really need to talk to her before she bolts."
He looked at me. Then he glanced down, as if considering retreat.
"Do you want to go?" I said. "I know this wasn't how you intended to spend your night, and I'm sorry you got dragged into it. Ricky and I can handle this."
His gaze moved up to mine. "Would you like me to leave?"
"No. As I said, I'm glad you're here. But I understand if you decide you don't need to be. I'm sure you have better things to do."
That cool stare. "It's four thirty in the morning, Olivia. What else would I have to do?"
"Sleep. Which is infinitely better than crawling through an abandoned psych hospital."
I forced a smile. He didn't buy it, only watching me, assessing. Then he grunted, "Move," and waved me back so he could finish his climb. By the time he hauled himself through the hatch, I was staring up at the messages on the ceiling, above the restraint chair.
Before I could look away, Gabriel said, "What do you see?"
I told him and then added, "You don't see anything, right?"
"I don't."
"Neither did Ricky. There were other things, too. Visions, hallucinations . . ."
"You'll tell me later?"
"I will."
"And you didn't tell Ricky about any of it?"
"No. I wouldn't have brought him into this at all, but he overheard the phone call, so I couldn't exactly slip out and handle it myself."
"Which I would hope you'd never consider doing alone. Whether it's a legal matter or not, you should call me, Olivia. I would think you'd know that by now."
"I wanted to. I just . . . I didn't want to overstep. Anyway, I had to tell him about finding Ciara in the car. He knows there's more, but he's not pushing for answers." I looked up at Gabriel. "I've never had the feeling I can't trust him."
Gabriel hesitated, then said almost reluctantly, "You can."
"I won't tell him anything I don't have to. For his own sake. The rest is between you and me."
The ice thawed in his eyes. He nodded and waved me to the door. When I turned, he put his fingers lightly to my back, shepherding me along, as if he was the one who knew where we were going.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
On the walk to the room, I told Gabriel that Macy knew who I was and seemed to think I was going to axe-murder her.
He snorted. "Twit."
"That's Ricky's opinion, too, though he'd make it 'ungrateful twit.' He snapped at her, and now she's scared of us both. We should have handled it better, considering what she's been through."
"She should have considered what you've both been through, coming after her here. Ricky is correct. She's an ungrateful twit. I'm surprised you didn't stuff her back in the box."