Contents
The Letter
Copyright
Hidden Beauty Series
Hidden Hearts Series
Dedication
Chapter One ~ Rocco
Chapter Two ~ Mallory
Chapter Three ~ Rocco
Chapter Four ~ Mallory
Chapter Five ~ Rocco
Chapter Six ~ Mallory
Chapter Seven ~ Rocco
Chapter Eight ~ Mallory
Chapter Nine ~ Rocco
Chapter Ten ~ Mallory
Chapter Eleven ~ Rocco
Chapter Twelve ~ Mallory
Chapter Thirteen ~ Rocco
Chapter Fourteen ~ Mallory
Chapter Fifteen ~ Rocco
Chapter Sixteen ~ Mallory
Chapter Seventeen ~ Rocco
Chapter Eighteen ~ Mallory
Chapter Nineteen ~ Rocco
Chapter Twenty ~ Mallory
Chapter Twenty-One ~ Rocco
Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Mallory
Epilogue ~ Rocco
Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author
COPYRIGHT
© 2018 Mary Crawford. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Mary Crawford and Diversity Ink Press. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published on September 1, 2018, by Diversity Ink Press and Mary Crawford. Author may be reached at MaryCrawfordAuthor.com.
ISBN-978-1-945637-17-9 • ASIN: B07GT5Z4QV
HIDDEN BEAUTY SERIES
Until the Stars Fall from the Sky
So the Heart Can Dance
Joy and Tiers
Love Naturally
Love Seasoned
Love Claimed
If You Knew Me (and other silent musings) (novella)
Jude's Song
The Price of Freedom (novella)
Paths Not Taken
Dreams Change (novella)
Heart Wish (100% charity release)
Tempting Fate
The Letter
HIDDEN HEARTS SERIES
Identity of the Heart
Sheltered Hearts
Hearts of Jade
Port in the Storm (novella)
Love is More Than Skin Deep
Tough
Rectify
Pieces (a crossover novel)
Hearts Set Free
Freedom (a crossover novel)
OTHER WORKS:
Vision of the Heart
#AmWriting: A Collection of Letters to Benefit The Wayne Foundation
DEDICATION
To everyone who has faced down cancer
with ferocity and grim determination.
You have won more battles than most of us can fathom.
Kudos to the friends and family who provide the invaluable support to help make that fight possible.
CHAPTER ONE
ROCCO
AS I WIPE A WET cloth across my face Jaxson comes into the locker room shedding his scrubs. I nod at him. “Good afternoon, Doctor Shepherd.”
“Call me Jax. My wife kicked our butts last weekend when we played pool. I think that earns you some special privileges.”
“It’s all right. When we’re playing pool, I’ll let the formal title slide. But, around here, you’re still the doc and I’m still the guy who brings you the patients.”
“Got news for you Pierce, the patients would be much worse off if you and your fellow paramedics weren’t so great at your jobs. Docs like us are grateful for all you do.”
I stretch out my back and rub my temples. “I don’t feel like such a hero today. We lost one twin in the MVA. Stupid drunk driver sheared off a third of the minivan.”
“You did what you could. Because of you that mama still has one baby to hug tonight. I spent three hours rebuilding his leg. Recovery will take a while, but he’s here.”
I shake my head, trying to push away his words of praise. “You know me. I’d be happier if I could save them all.”
Jaxson points down at his scrubs as he grabs a towel and heads to the shower. “Trust me — we all feel that way. Go home. You can't do any more here. I know you’ve had a crazy week. Get some sleep. You’ve earned it.”
I scrub the heels of my hands over my eyes. “You’re right. Maybe some sleep will put it into perspective.”
I kick the newspapers away from the front door as I grab a huge stack of mail from my mailbox. Geez, when was the last time I checked my mail? Jaxson is right. I need to take some down time. One day bleeds into the next. As soon as I throw my mail on the kitchen table and set my food down, my cat jumps from the floor to my shoulder. Fortunately, this time Chevy makes it on his first shot. Chevy isn’t known for his grace. He meows loudly in my ear.
“I hear ya buddy. I’m starving too.” I murmur as I grab a can of cat food from the pantry and pop it open. Chevy hops down as I place it on the floor beside his water dish.
Exhausted, I slump down in the nearest chair. I take a sip of my Coke and unwrap my sandwich. After I take a bite and set it down, the logo on a piece of my mail catches my eye. That’s weird. They said it would take a couple of months for my raise to come through after I qualified for the next pay class.
Curious, I rip open the large envelope and skim the contents. I blink, shake my head and read it again. None of this is making any sense. It’s not from payroll. This is from radiology. I double check. It’s addressed to me — Rocco A. Pierce. It even has my phone number — but the letter refers a mammogram. The patient’s name is Mallory F. Yoshida. It would seem I’m listed as her spouse.
One problem. I’ve never been married.
Chevy looks up at me with a confused expression on his face as he tries to make sense of my agitated movements. I flip the large envelope over and dump out the rest of the contents. To my surprise, a disk lands on my kitchen table. With trepidation, I scoop it up and walk over to my desk and boot up my computer. As I wait for it to finish, I read the radiology report I found folded in the cardboard with the disc. I cringe when I reach the conclusion. I’m no doctor, but I am familiar with medical terminology. Whoever Mallory Yoshida is, she is in for the fight of her life. I press eject on the CD drive on my computer and place the CD on the tray.
Even though I see women’s torsos frequently in my job, it seems a little voyeuristic to be looking at a stranger’s mammogram. When the images appear in front of me, I’m surprised. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting. I suppose with a BI-RADS score of five, I figured the cancer would be obvious. Using my touchscreen, I zoom in a bit closer. Eventually, I find a white area on what would be the underside of her left breast.
I blow the air out of my lungs and draw in a quick breath. Part of me was hoping all this was a weird clerical error. Unfortunately, it looks like the radiologist had a good reason for being ninety-five percent sure this woman has breast cancer.
As sad as that is, it still doesn’t answer one fundamental question: what does it all have to do with me?
A feeling of dread passes
over me. I unclip my cell phone from my belt loop. Swallowing hard, I dial my mom’s number.
“Rocco? Is that you? It’s loud in here. Your father is watching Wheel of Fortune again. He solved the last puzzle when none of the contestants knew what it was. I keep telling him he ought to try out for the show.”
“He probably should. Listen, I won’t keep you long … I need to know, when was the last time you had a mammogram?”
“Rocco! You don’t ask a lady such a thing! I thought I raised you with better manners. I think being a paramedic has gone to your head. You think you can ask anybody anything.”
“Totally true. But I’ve got a reason for asking —”
“What possible reason could you have?”
“Mom, I can’t even begin to explain. Could you just tell me?”
“Well, if you must know — I always have them around my birthday.”
“Did you get your results back? Are you okay?”
“Of course I did. I would’ve told you if something was amiss.”
“Okay, thank you for telling me. I need to go, it’s been a long week. I’m completely beat.”
“I can tell. Rocco, if you’ve been drinking, knock it off. You were always a rather strange child, but this conversation is over the top, even for you.”
“Mom! I’m stone cold sober, I promise. There’s a bunch of stuff going on I don’t even understand right now.”
My mother makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “I don’t know if I find your explanation comforting or if it scares me even more.”
“Good night, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, sleep tight. Try not to work so hard.”
CHAPTER TWO
MALLORY
GROANING, I PLACE ONE LAST zucchini in the overflowing basket of produce. Edna grins cheekily at me as she offers me her cane. “You need this, sweetie?”
“I might.” I balance gingerly as I stand up. “I twisted my knee funny on my stair workout.”
Edna shakes her head at me. “Never did see the purpose of you running up and down those bleachers anyway. Why would you go and run someplace you don’t have to — and then do it over and over again?”
I pick up the basket and walk toward Edna’s house. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’d like to fit through my doorway after my next-door neighbor spoils me with world-class goodies.”
“Oh come now, Miss Mallory, I don’t spoil you so much.”
“Yes, you do Edna. I don’t know what I would do without you. The only thing I have in my refrigerator is milk for my cereal in the morning and a little coffee creamer. Everything else is so old it should probably be thrown out. You are far better to me than I ever deserve. You’ve practically adopted me.”
“Don’t be silly. I know you have parents. It’s not your fault they are too busy to notice what a lovely young woman you are. Besides, they live all the way across the United States. You need someone close. Now, let’s talk about your knee. You know, I have a perfectly nice orthopedic doctor. He’s cute too.”
It’s a good thing I am busy scrubbing potatoes and Edna can’t see my eye roll — but I’m sure she knows my expressions by now. I turn around to face her. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m too busy for a boyfriend. You do not have to fix me up. Besides, the doctor type wouldn’t be interested in a crime reporter for a webzine.”
“Honey, I’m not even sure I know what that is. But all I can say is don’t sell yourself short. When I met my Gordon, he was working on the space shuttle project and I was a simple hairdresser. He fell in love with me just the same. I tell people love isn’t like rocket science.” Edna giggles. She sobers as tears gather in her eyes. “I miss him so much. Getting old sucks!”
I take a package of frozen peas out of Edna’s freezer and ice my knee as I limp over to her breakfast bar. “Tell me about it — and I’m only twenty-seven.”
“No, you don’t understand. My doctor wants me to go do a test where they stick a camera up my rectum! Can you imagine? Will you go with me? You can have it done first, like you did the mammogram —”
“Oh Edna …” I hedge. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need a colonoscopy. I only did the mammogram because you were petrified to do it. I won’t need to do a colonoscopy for another twenty-some years. Besides, you’ll be asleep through the process.”
“But you went with me to the dentist to check him out —” she argues stubbornly.
“I did — but that was different. I actually needed my teeth cleaned.”
“And you went to the eye doctor.”
I wince. “True enough, although I still can’t figure out why I was there. The medical staff told me you go to Doctor Moore all the time to have your glaucoma checked and you have for years. According to them, you treat him like your grandson.”
“He is one of the sweetest men I know. I just wanted the two of you to meet. He is a hottie, isn’t he?”
“Argh! Edna, I love you, you know that? But, you cannot keep coercing me into medical appointments to introduce me to cute doctors. I don’t know if you know — but I work for a small company which doesn’t offer health insurance. Your matchmaking strategy is making me go broke!”
“What do you mean? Aren’t those visits free?”
“No … why would they be?”
“Well, I figured since I referred you and it was your first time, you would get a complimentary visit or something.”
“Sorry to tell you but medicine has changed. These days, you get charged for a Band-Aid.”
“I’m so sorry Miss Mallory. I didn’t mean to put you out. The honest truth is my world hasn’t been the same since our daughter died. She’s been gone longer than you’ve been alive. But I still miss her every single day. I don’t want a nice girl like you to end up with the kind of creep who killed my baby girl.”
I stand up and walk around to give Edna a hug. “Don’t worry. I’m in no hurry to be in a relationship. In my line of work, I see a million ways how it can all go wrong.”
Edna sighs. “I wish my Gordon was around. I’d feel better if he could protect you from the riff-raff.”
“Something tells me not much riff-raff would get by you either.”
Edna picks up her cane. “That’s true. I have this, and Lulu has a sense about men,” she says as she points to her Yorkie curled into a ball sleeping front of the fireplace.
Shedding my corporate jacket, I head over to my assistant’s desk. “Okay, Andre, I’m finally here. What did I miss while I was held captive in the world’s longest staff meeting?”
“What were you guys doing in there? Holding a séance?”
“Practically. There were four experts arguing over how net neutrality will impact our advertisers.”
“What was the verdict?”
“It’s grim.” I admit. “No one can seem to agree on how grim. I’m just going to put my head down and do my job. Maybe someday I’ll wake up and not have a job and have to figure out what to do, but until then, I’ll just do what I do.”
“Your job just got a little more exciting. I heard from one of my CIs in law enforcement. You know the case we’ve been following —”
I draw in a sharp breath. “Oh my gosh! They got back to you about the basketball player?”
“The very one,” Andre answers smugly.
“How in the world did you get so lucky? I’ve been chasing that lead for months.”
Andre clears his throat. “Sometimes, my less than savory past gives me connections you just don’t have.”
“I guess. So, what did you find out?”
“The DNA is not a match.”
“They couldn’t figure that out before Marshall Todd spent seven and a half years in jail?”
“Depends on who you talk to. Some people swear there wasn’t DNA to test. Other people say the DNA was there all along, but it was simply suppressed because it didn’t match the suspect they wanted to prosecute.”
“Wow! Just wow. Anybody willing
to go on record?”
Andre shrugs. “Perhaps if we tread carefully.”
“Does anybody else know about this? What about the accuser? Where is she in this saga? Is she willing to talk?” I pepper Andre with questions as fast as they fly into my consciousness.
“I don’t know if this is a scoop. Knowing my sources, I wouldn’t be surprised if she is ready to talk. You should probably interview her. I closely resemble the guy she tried to frame. I don’t think she’s gonna want to talk to me.”
“Good point. Besides, I seem to have one of those faces that encourages people to tell me their entire life story, maybe it’ll work on Sheila Taylor.”
“I think once she figures out how much you care about this story, she’ll want to talk to you.”
“I hope so. Her story could put a whole new spin on things. I’ve been researching this story for years and her side of it has never made any sense.”
Andre nods. “You know, I’ve never figured that out. I mean, I know why I want to see Marshall Todd get justice. It’s one of those ‘but for the grace of God go I’ stories for me, but why are you so passionate about it?”
I stretch out a kink in my neck as I ponder a way to answer Andre’s question. “I went into journalism because I wanted to help make the world make sense. After my friend Juliette was attacked, I realized how messed up the world of criminal justice is. The case of Marshall Todd is the most egregious case of injustice I have ever seen. The more I look into it, the worse it gets. I want to find out how the case went off the rails and see if I can do anything to fix what went wrong. I firmly believe Marshall Todd was wrongly convicted. I think Sheila Taylor has some of the answers I’m looking for.”
“I think you’re right. Let me see what I can do about arranging an interview for you.”
“I guess I better start prepping for the interview of my life. Who knows? I might get lucky. Who am I kidding? What makes me think she’d have any interest in talking to me? I’m just a nobody from a no-name online newspaper. She’s probably never even heard of me.”
The Letter Page 1
