“Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. How did you know I love roses?” She reached out for the vase and he moved to her side to give her the bouquet. He knew it was petty but he was pleased that Russ had to move out of the way for him to get to her side. She stuck her nose into the roses and inhaled the way she did when she got her first smell of coffee in the morning. She handed the vase back to him and motioned toward the windowsill.
“Any more bouquets and this room will officially look like funeral parlor.”
Lark put the flowers in the window and sat down on the foot of her bed. He noted that she didn’t move her feet away from him when he put his hand down beside them.
“How’s she doing?” he asked Gene.
“Better than expected.” Gene sat forward in his chair. “The bullet went through her right shoulder without hitting anything major. The bullet into her abdomen did a fair amount of soft-issue damage and destroyed her left ovary and tube. We took those out.” Gene reached over and squeezed Lacey’s hand. “She has her right tube and ovary, so babies are still in her future.”
“Yeah, right,” Lacey said, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “Like I’ve got big prospects in that department.”
Gene’s pager went off. He stood up and pulled it off his belt to read the number. “Gotta go.” He leaned down and kissed Lacey. “I’ll see you later.” He glanced over at Lark and Russ. “Looks like you’re in good hands for now.”
Russ looked at his watch and pulled his chair back over toward her. “I’ve gotta got too. I’m going to Key West to work on a case day after tomorrow. Why don’t I get these assignments in the winter instead of the summer?” He pointed at the box in Lacey’s lap. “Are you going to open that before I leave?”
“Oh, sorry.” She picked up the red-paisley-wrapped box and admired the large lace bow on the top. She grinned at Russ. “I hope this isn’t anything evil.” She heard something slide around as she shook the box.
Russ put his hand to his chest, a look of mock shock on his face. “Now what in heaven’s name would make you think I’d ever buy you something evil? Fun, yes; evil, never.”
Lacey giggled as she ripped the paper off the box. She pulled back the red tissue paper and gasped. Inside lay the black-leather-and-red-lace bustier they had looked at in New Orleans. She glanced up at Lark’s stunned face and blushed.
“Russell O’Flaherty, how could you? How did you?” Despite her tone, she couldn’t keep the grin off her face.
“It’s the one we looked at. I had plenty of time to go back and buy it. I had them put the receipt inside since you already knew how much it was. You can exchange it if it’s the wrong size.”
She pulled it out of the box to check the size. “It looks like it’s right on the money. How’d you—”
Russ interrupted her as he stood up. “I’ve had way too much experience in guessing women’s sizes. Plus I got a little help from the rain. Remember?”
She nodded at him, still blushing.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It can be exchanged, but I’ve given the boys strict orders that you cannot just return it.” He whispered into her ear loud enough for Lark to hear. “Trust me on this. The effect is guaranteed, so use it wisely.” He got up and waggled his fingers at her as he headed for the door. “Remember what I told you.”
She laughed and her blush deepened.
He turned around just as he got to the door. “I’ll call you when I get back from Key West and help you out with that little family thing we talked about.” He waved and was gone.
Lacey folded the bustier and put it back in the box. She smoothed the red tissue paper over it and set the box off to her side. She looked into Lark’s eyes, her face scarlet with embarrassment. “Russell is…well, he’s Russell. I’ve never known anyone quite like him.”
Despite the two empty chairs Lark continued to sit on her bed. He forced his mind away from the bustier and the images that were running through his mind. He didn’t want to think about what it implied about Lacey’s relationship with Russ.
“You gave me quite a scare,” he said, patting her leg. He thought about the shooting and conjured up images of her crumpled on the dock, blood seeping out of her abdomen and shoulder. A shiver ran through him. He tried to put that incident out of his mind and focus on the here and now.
“I gave myself quite a scare. For a while I thought I might be seeing my parents a little sooner than I expected.” She leaned forward and took his hand between hers. He moved closer to her and pulled her into his arms. She groaned with pain and pulled away, holding her side.
“You need me to go get the nurse?” he asked, concerned by the pain he saw in her face.
“No, no.” She grabbed his hand. “There’s morphine in my IV and I can dose myself as I need it.” She showed him the control they had given her. “The pain will be better in a few minutes.” She pushed the button on her side rail that lowered the head of her bed and leaned back against her pillows. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Lark found a washcloth and ran it under the cold water in the sink. He sat back down at her bedside and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Uhm, that feels so much better.” She gave him a loopy smile and he relaxed, knowing her pain medication was kicking in. “Thank you for what you did out there. If you hadn’t been there, I probably would have bled to death on the dock.”
“You scared ten years off my life.”
“That’s the last thing we need,” she said, barely able to keep her eyes open. “I owe you my life and you know what that means.” She pulled his hand up to her face and kissed his palm. “I love your hands.” She cuddled his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes, giving in to her need to sleep.
Lark sat with her until the nurse came in and made him leave.
Lacey awoke in a darkened room with the nurse standing over her checking her pulse. “I sent your man packing,” the nurse said, releasing her wrist. “He put up one hell of a fight to stay, but you need your rest. He asked me to give you this as soon as you woke up.” She handed Lacey the box Lark had walked in with.
Lacey powered her bed into a sitting position and untaped the white wrapping paper sprigged with red and pink roses. She folded the wrapping paper she had so carefully removed from the box and asked the nurse to put it in her bedside table so she could save it. She pulled the lid off the box from the Hardy Gallery, revealing a sparkling red-glass-bead necklace and matching earrings. It was the jewelry she had admired when she and Lark had gone there to pick up the guest list from the opening Daisy DuBois had attended. She noticed a small envelope under the necklace. It contained a card with a red rose on the front: I saw you admiring these when we were in the Hardy Gallery. As soon as you’re well, I’ll drive over to Wausau and take you to dinner. Please wear these. Get well soon, Lark.
The nurse could think of only one reason why any woman in her right mind would burst into tears when a gorgeous man had left her such a beautiful gift.
Also by K. C. Greenlief
Cold Hunter’s Moon
Acknowledgments
My thanks go out to a battalion of people who have given me ideas and supported this process:
My wonderful husband, Roger, what a blessing you are.
To my many friends, including Alice Ann, Becky, Brenda, Brian, Connie, Debra, Lyle, Mary Kay, Patsy, Sheila, and Susan, thank you for your good thoughts and encouragement.
Thank you to the many people in Scottsbluff, Nebraska, who have supplied me with great ideas and cheered me on.
My mother and brothers have tolerated my obsessive love of books for decades. All this is really your fault!
To Barbara Steiner, a most gifted teacher of writing, and John Talbot, a remarkable agent.
Special thanks to Carin Siegfried for her masterful editorial skills, and the great people at Thomas Dunne Books.
Thank you to Investigator Monica Bartling of the Nebraska State Patrol and H. Hod Kosman, president and
CEO of Platte Valley Companies, for providing advice in their areas of expertise. Any errors in this text are mine.
To Susan Wittig Albert, Laurien Berenson, Carol Cail, Carolyn Hart, Martin Hegwood, Shirley Kennett, Gillian Rogerts, and Valerie Wolzien, who read and took the time to comment on Cold Hunter’s Moon. I cannot thank you enough.
Zane, keep writing.
Fiction versus Reality
This is a work of fiction but Door County, Wisconsin, is real. Community agencies such as the Door County Zoning Board and the Council on Land Development mentioned in the book are fictional. The Door County Ledger is a fictional newspaper, and the Gibraltar State Park Golf Course is fictional. Most of the restaurants and hotels, with the exception of the Railhouse Restaurant and Dance Hall, the Horizon Resort, and the Gradoute House, are real.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
DEATH AT THE DOOR. Copyright © 2003 by K. C. Greenlief. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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ISBN: 978-0-312-31809-3
Death at the Door Page 29
