“No. I mean…I don’t know. It’s more like, how can I stay there after what happened, Doc?”
“Call me Zack, Trev. And I see your point. That would be hard to deal with.”
Trev nodded. “I can’t figure out which would be worse—knowing he was killed there or wondering if the men who did it might figure they have to deal with me if the cops don’t arrest me for his murder.”
“Are they likely to?”
“Arrest me? I don’t think so, unless Detective Hawk was flat out lying to me for some reason. He said all the evidence pointed to it’s being a set-up.”
“Why? Okay, dumb question. I’m sure you have no idea.”
“Not a clue.” Trev frowned as he looked at Zach. Then something occurred to him. “Do you usually sit with your patients like this? I thought doctors spent all their time treating us, not discussing…things that have nothing to do with what’s wrong.”
“I’m off duty.”
“Then why aren’t you at home or the local bar? Wherever doctors go to decompress.”