Shelly didn’t want to look stupid, but something wasn’t clicking. How did she get sucked into this?

In a roundabout way, it was Tim’s fault, like practically everything else. Her old vinyl Rio LP missing? Tim probably took it. A notice from the city that Scurvy’s tags had expired? Tim forgot to pay. Rain? Well, Tim probably had something to do with that, too.

When Bruce called, it was just after Tim had moved in with that pharma rep. She was flattered to get a call from a man she vaguely remembered from college as being attractive in a geeky way. Steve Jobs-ey, sort of. And when she realized he wanted her as an observing doctor on some kind of secret project – it was more flattering. Being mistaken for a nurse at the clinic was a more typical experience.

But now something was wrong. She didn’t know what. Bruce’s vitals still looked kosher. But Bruce’s fat friend was like a kid who’d screwed up and was panicking because Mom would be home from work soon.

He was the worst liar she’d known since Tim.