Jamie Brodie 01 - Cited to Death

passages. He'd made cryptic notes to himself in places - "Medium?" "SEM?" "Source?" but I didn't understand them. There was one I understood, written at the beginning of the statistical section: "BULLSHIT!"
    Nothing cryptic about that.
    I folded the article into thirds and slid it into my inner jacket pocket. I put the file folder back where I found it and was closing the drawer when a voice said, “Hey! What are you doing in there?”
    I jumped to my feet, whacking my right kneecap on the bottom of the drawer. Ow . A very young woman was standing at the reception desk, staring at me. “Who are you? I’m going to call security!”
    “No, no, please don’t do that.” I came out of Dan’s office but didn’t move any closer to the girl, who looked more scared than angry. “I’m a friend of Dan’s, and I just came from his funeral, and I just…” I tried to look very, very sad. “I wanted to see…where it happened, you know?”
    Her expression softened, but she was still suspicious. “Are you on staff here? I’ve never seen you.”
    “No. I work at UCLA. I’m Dr. Jamie Brodie.” If she thought I was a medical doctor, I wasn't going to correct her impression. "Do you want to see my ID?”
    “Yes, please.”
    I pulled out my UCLA employee badge. She examined it for a minute then handed it back. “Okay…I’m Lily. Mr. Christensen was my boss.” She sat at the reception desk and looked up at me. “I wanted to go to the funeral, but since I’m the only other employee in the library, I couldn’t go. Was it nice?”
    Well, not really . “Yeah. It was outdoors, so that was nice.”
    She nodded. "Yeah, he would have liked that. So, this is like a pilgrimage for you? I understand completely."
    “Yes, exactly.” I relaxed. It seemed that Lily was just gullible enough to let me get away with this. “How long did you work for Dan?”
    “Just about six months. I liked working for him. He wasn’t demanding at all.” She looked at me sympathetically. "I hope you don't think this is too forward, but...were you one of his boyfriends?"
    Wow. So Dan had been out here, at least a little bit. "Yes, I was. Several years ago. I hadn't seen him for a while - I was so shocked when he died."
    She nodded. "We all were. Did you know he had seizures?"
    "I did."
    "No one here knew. But the police went to his house and found the anti-seizure medication." Her face took on a slightly disapproving expression. "He didn't share much."
    "But he was out here."
    She looked puzzled. "Out? Oh, out of the closet! Yes, he was. He didn't hide that at all. You could really say that he flaunted it some. He wore his rainbow pin all the time, and just the way he talked and dressed and did his hair - it was pretty obvious."
    Huh. That was a change from when I'd known Dan. "Did that bother people here?"
    "Not me, not at all." Lily crossed her arms and looked defiant. "But it bothered some of the doctors, especially the older ones. And some of the older nurses too, and some of the male nurses..." She paused and made a face. "I guess it bothered a lot of people. But there were a lot of people that were fine with it too."
    I nodded, thinking. Even if Dan's death wasn’t accidental, maybe it didn't have anything to do with the letter. Maybe he was facing a different kind of enemy. "Well, I'm glad he wasn't hiding it.” I smiled at her, still trying to look sad. It wasn’t hard; this was sad. “Thank you for letting me be in here for a while. It’s made me feel better.”
    She smiled. “Oh, good. I’m glad I could help.”
    “I wonder if you could do one thing for me. Or, rather, not do something.” I leaned in, conspiratorially. “Please don’t mention to anyone that I was here. I wouldn’t want it to get back to Dan’s current boyfriend that I’d been here.”
    She looked surprised. “Okay. I don’t think Dr. Goldstein would mind, but I won’t tell him.”
    So they were together, and at least one other person knew it. Interesting. “Thanks, Lily. I appreciate that.” If there was something to Dan’s paranoia, maybe the person or persons responsible wouldn’t find out that I’d been here.
    But when I got to my car, all four tires had been slashed.
    I said a few choice words and looked around. None of the other cars nearby had been damaged. Just mine. Should I report it? Yes, I should. I called Kevin. After he read me the riot act for staying out on a bad air day, he said he’d inform the appropriate station.
    In about