Page 80 of Manner of Death

That was another fight Bashir hadn’t recounted in specifics, but he hadn’t needed to. Sawyer could imagine it perfectly. “Your staffing issues aren’t my problem. I’m owed this leave—figure the rest of it out on your own.” He was away for two weeks on an island or something off the Carolina coast, something that Nan had objected to strongly but, without charging him, they couldn’t hold him. And they couldn’t formally charge him yet; there just wasn’t enough evidence.

So Bashir was working his ass off and could only visit randomly, Sawyer was fielding desperate complaints and entreaties from his sister, and the case had stalled. At least no one else had been attacked over the past week.

Yeah, because the killer is on fucking vacation.

“Sir?”

Sawyer looked up at the nurse who’d appeared in his room’s doorway. “Yes?”

“I’ve got the wheelchair for you.”

He wanted to snap that he didn’t need a wheelchair, but honestly…he kind of did. It was a long walk down to the first floor of the hospital. “Thank you.”

“Are you all ready to go?”

Sawyer forced a smile. “Yep.” He had a single bag with some clothes, toiletries, and the stuff they’d managed to salvage from his very busted car, but apart from that there was nothing but him.

“Great.” The nurse offered his arm, but Sawyer was able to sit down in the chair by himself. He wasn’t that decrepit, damn it. “Do you have someone waiting to pick you up?” the nurse asked as they rolled toward the elevators.

“Ah, no.” He’d texted his expected release time to Bashir, but he wasn’t sure the man had even seen it yet. He’d offered to take him home, but the job came first. “I’ll get an Uber, it’s fine.”

The nurse, maybe sensing that now wasn’t the time for making polite conversation, fell silent. Sawyer focused on his hands, staring at the visible bruises, the thick end of the cast on the left side and the spots of blood in the back of his right hand. His nails needed trimming, too. Great. Something he could handle once he was home…on one side, at least. He wasn’t sure his left hand was going to cooperate that much.

They got outside, and Sawyer was about to get up and fish his cell phone out of his pocket when he realized someone was calling his name. He looked up and—

Oh huh, he wasn’t hallucinating. That was Bashir. He was running across the parking lot and got angrily honked at a few times on his way over, but then he was at the entrance to the hospital and beaming. “I’m so glad I caught you,” he said as he held up his phone. “The battery ran out while I was at work and I didn’t even realize—and then I called your room, but no one answered.”

No, because the sound of the ringer on the hospital phone was enough to drive Sawyer crazy, not to mention kick up a vicious headache. “You…”

“You must be his ride!” The nurse beamed at Bashir. “I’ll let you take the chair to get him settled, if you like.”

“That’s all right,” Bashir said, staring intently at Sawyer. “I think we can make it.”

“All right, then.” Sawyer barely noticed the nurse leaving, he was so fixed on staring right back at Bashir.

“You thought I wasn’t coming.”

“I thought you were busy,” Sawyer corrected. “And we didn’t really talk about what would happen when I was released. I think the last time we tried, we both fell asleep.”

“Yeah.” Bashir ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. “Work has been…terrible, basically, but I always meant to come and pick you up. You could have called the office line.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt things.”

“I want you to interrupt things,” Bashir pointed out. “I want you to be my whole focus when I’m with you.”

Sawyer laughed. If it sounded a little bitter, well, anyone would understand that his acting skills weren’t up to par right now. “But that’s not how our lives work. We’re both so career-focused, and you know I respect that. I’m not about to get between you and your work.”

“I know.” Bashir nodded. “That’s why I’ve taken the next week off.”

Sawyer stared. He knew his jaw had dropped, knew his eyes were wide by the way the stitches on his forehead pulled, but he couldn’t help it. “You took…a week off?”

“I did.”

“While your other pathologist is off on vacation?”

Bashir shrugged. “I called in a few favors and got coverage from a couple of pathologists from the next county.”

“What about support staff?” He knew Tami wasn’t working, and without her—