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[i]He did not take kindly to scrutiny.[/i]
Not from Linda, not from anyone else. When he had initially realized what was being proposed to him, he had blanched and found himself gazing blankly into the face of the detective. He was no idiot and they could paint their interest in him in as many layers of sugar-coating as they wanted but it didn't change the fact that they were singling him out. [i]What else was new?[/i] He quite nearly snapped at the man too, nearly told him to [i]get fucked[/i] but [i]astonishingly[/i] he kept his mouth shut. 

He knew about dealing with cops to a small degree and he knew that getting temperamental with them was a sure-fire way of looking guiltier. [i]No[/i], if Linda wanted to play the blame-game with him, he'd have to be a little more careful. "[color=a0410d]I don't want to talk.[/color]" He said this as [i]carefully[/i] as possible, but he was aware that his tone was likely not friendly. "[color=a0410d]I don't know what she [i]implied[/i] about me but I don't- I didn't even want to come [i]tonight[/i].[/color]" 

And he was starting to wish he hadn't.
It would have been easier if he'd just stayed home like he'd intended to. He could have crushed a bottle of cheap whiskey and wheeled into at least [i]two[/i] more mailboxes in the time that he'd wasted lingering here and staring at the corpse of his therapist. [i]Therapy, really, what was the [b]point[/b]?[/i] He couldn't help but wonder what he'd been trying to prove to himself by attending to begin with. These people-- Stanton-- it was all so utterly [i]meaningless[/i] ultimately, wasn't it? It wasn't liked he owed them anything. 

He could see Linda gazing back at him and her stare was near-murderous. He wanted to say something [i]scathing[/i], he didn't.

Staring into the face of Bill now, he couldn't quite squash the anger he was feeling. It was so [i]stupid[/i] and it was so [i]contrived[/i]. They had all walked into this tragedy together and just because he handled it differently meant he held some kind of responsibility? He did what he could to choke down any more damning comments though and relented, "[color=a0410d]I'll go if they go.[/color]" And that was his stipulation. He had no intention of visiting a police station unless some of these people were going down with him. He would not be made to play the [i]villain[/i] in any narrative.

As Linda departed from the conversation, his gaze followed her retreat and he realized for the second time today that his nails were burrowed deep into the skin of his palms. He wondered if he had yet drawn blood and he forced his fingers to unfurl. He heard the click of the elevator doors sliding open and this distracted him, turning away from the officer, his gaze found-- [i]was that a homeless man?[/i] 

He made to move past the officer, driven by a lack of impulse and a pang of curiosity. "[color=a0410d]If we're done here for now-- who's that?[/color]"
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