“I guess you break into people’s homes, looking for decades-old videos.”

Her smile widened. “Food will ruin the whiskey. Now or never.” She held her shot glass up, waited for me to do the same. I raised my glass to her and tossed it back before she did. My throat burned. My body shivered with chills. My shame was a dark stain, something pesky like wine, and the whiskey was rubbing it out, fading the color.

Same reason my parents drank.

We ate in silence for a couple minutes, comfortably. When you know bad things about a person, it adds a luxurious layer of comfort. You can put your feet up on their couch without worrying about offending them.

“So, if you’re the lighthouse, and I’m the ship, what’s the rocky shore?”

She shrugged. “His reputation?”

“But the statute of limitations on medical malpractice is seven years,” I said. “It’s the same for psychiatry.”

“I’m impressed. Statute of limitations? So dang smart.”

“I couldn’t even sue Clifford Paulson if I tried. So then, what is he trying to hide?”

“Beats me. I’m just the dumb girlfriend. You know, Alice does all this work with the hospital, her father helped build it, so maybe she worries about her reputation in the town. There is an upper class here, you know. It’s teeny, but it exists. Old money that settled here near a pretty river. Rich people really like money and they really like pretty views of water from their castles. Ever notice that?” Desiree reached over my plate, grabbed a handful of fries.

“You should watch out for Dr. Cliff,” I said. “He’s manipulative.”

“Maybe thirty years ago. Now, he’s a teddy bear with buttons for eyes. He couldn’t grab my ass if I walked by. Hey, give me a ride? A friend dropped me off.” She dug in her purse and laid cash on the bar. She smiled at me. “Hey, you have crud in your teeth. Sip your drink and swish.”

I sipped my coke, slid my tongue over my teeth, didn’t feel anything sticking out.

We walked to my car. She moved like a child, swiftly and unselfconsciously. She slid her boots off in the passenger seat, propping her bare feet on the dashboard. The red polish on her toenails was chipped.

I backed out, gravel grinding under my tires, the sound loud and strange, like it was inside my head, like it was everywhere.

“I met your dad’s cow,” I said, and we both laughed.

“Yeah, my dad is really good to that cow. He treats her like a queen.” She propped her elbow out the open window. “He’s one of those who likes animals better than people.”