The Dashing Doc Next Door

by Helen R. Myers

  “Has he now?” Inevitably, Gage scanned the shelves of dog food, cat food, treats, leashes, collars and assorted over-the-counter medications. There were no barren shelves, but Vince would have been a total knucklehead to be blatant in his actions, and had probably taken only a few things per visit. Unless... His insides started to feel like a nuclear meltdown. What if Vince had managed to get into their inventory of prescription drugs? That would require more than calling the sheriff’s department, that would mean a call to the DEA. “You can prove that?”

  “Via the cameras the fool doesn’t know we use.”

  “But you were on the premises each time and locked up behind him.”

  That would be an inordinately stupid thing to say to someone at this hour, outside of town, when it would take a sheriff’s deputy several minutes to reach here if Roy turned out to be less than the man Gage believed he was. However, he would trust Roy with his life. The few times the man had made a mistake with the cash register, he’d insisted on making up the difference out of his pocket. He’d only finished high school before joining the navy, was really sensitive about his lack of education and was quick to take responsibility for his mistakes.

  As expected, Roy didn’t try to make excuses for himself. Explain, yes, but he was ready to take any and all results on the chin.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “But stupid me, I was updating patient files and placing supply orders. I never thought he would be the problem, and I believed if someone tried to break in while he was here, that he’d holler.”

  Gage nodded, his hands on his hips. “How much did he take us for before you noticed?”

  “A couple thousand at least.”

  “Any prescription-restricted drugs that we have to report?”

  “Thank goodness, no. I checked that first—and if there had been anything, I would have called you instead of waited for you to get here. Can you believe it, he stole from the storage room? That’s why it took me longer to catch on to him. He’s probably been carrying the stuff to one of those flea markets popping up everywhere on the weekends. Even selling stuff for a fraction of its worth, he’s made several truck payments—all while still paying him for cleaning the floors.” Roy hung his head. “I’m sorry, Doc. I let you down.”

  “As long as you have the disk with proof.”

  “I definitely do. I just wish I’d checked it sooner. Are you wanting to take a look or call the sheriff?”

  Gage nodded. “Call. If it was just a sack or two of food that he needed for his animals, we could talk things out, but this is hardly that. First, tell me how you figured out what’s going on. Was he here this morning and you caught him, or what?” If so, Roy could have been in danger.

  “He was due and didn’t show. I was opening the storeroom door and moving things in preparation for him to clean in here when I noticed some things were different—stock moved to cover what would be obvious holes that would catch my attention faster. Vince is the only other person to go in there besides us, so I called the number I have on file for him—it’s his cell, naturally, which he carries with him all of the time. The mailbox is full. No telling who else he’s ripped off and has hit the road.”

  That was enough information for Gage. He’d known about Vince’s past brushes with the law over theft but had been willing to give the guy a chance. “I wish you had called me immediately. You don’t know the mind-set of someone who knows he’s pushed his luck too far.” He left the rest unsaid, seeing that Roy already felt bad enough.

  “I fully deserved a knock on my thick skull for thinking he’d changed and pulled his act together the way I did.” During his employment interview, Roy had shared that he’d ended up with “police” duty several times while in the service, what old movies described as KP duty, only his disciplinarians had made sure he’d gotten the nastiest jobs available on the ship, which soon had had him getting a new attitude.

  “I’m just glad that I don’t have to worry about replacing you, never mind Vince,” Gage replied. “Get that disk loaded. I’m sure the authorities will want to view it, too.”

  “Yes, sir, Doc.” Roy hesitated. “I’m sorry for the timing on this, too. How’s Brooke and Miss Marsha?”

  “Anxious to have all this behind them.” As he began to walk away, Gage stopped and turned around. “I thought we had a steam cleaner of our own?”

  Roy bowed his head. “He stole the steamer, too.”

  Shaking his head, Gage reached for the phone. It was definitely going to be a long day.

  * * *

  Brooke checked her cell phone for what had to be the sixth time since arriving at the shop, and it was still only seven forty-five. It was foolish, of course, since her aunt’s surgery wasn’t scheduled until later this morning, but after everything else that had gone wrong, she couldn’t forget the old adage of not just good things coming in threes.

  Striving to focus on what Kiki was saying, she nodded; after all, Kiki had come in early herself so they could talk. “The little purses and the waistband thingies for travelers and joggers, yes, I see your point. If you can figure out a way to display some in the window and then put the rest in the vicinity where we’re experimenting with the new charm-bracelet selection, that should work.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll bring a cute little Tiffany-style lamp from home to light up that area a bit. It seems a little dark to me,” Kiki said.

  The younger woman continued to impress. But Brooke chimed in. “True. But are you sure you want to sacrifice your lamp? There’s one at Aunt Marsha’s we could borrow until we find something you like better.”

  “I bought it on a whim, and it’s never quite fit the rest of my room, so I’m more than happy to donate it. Particularly considering all that you’re doing for me,” Kiki added.

  Brooke touched her arm. “You’re wonderful. Then that’s what we’ll do. If you want to run and get it, I’ll finish up what I need to here before Naomi arrives so I can head for the hospital.”

  “Understood. Back shortly.”

  Only minutes after she left, Naomi arrived as promised. She’d always triggered thoughts in Brooke of Julia Child due to her statuesque frame and robust laugh. No sooner did she set down her things than she had Brooke enfolded against her bosom, crooning with maternal love.

  “How are you holding up, dear? Did you get any rest last night?”

  “Enough,” Brooke said, fibbing without conscience. “Are you wearing comfortable shoes? Thank goodness Aunt Marsha has a couple comfortable chairs here. I just can’t give you a definite time that I’ll be back.”

  Naomi waved away the concern and tied on one of the shop’s green-and-white aprons. “There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be. I can feel her here.” Naomi glanced around only to look a bit bewildered as her gaze settled on the front of the store. “Well, I used to. What is all this? You’ve changed things quite a bit.”

  Brooke followed her focus with new concern. Yes, although the painting had to wait, they were making progress to enhance things by creating groupings so that a customer in a hurry would quickly know where to find everything they had in a particular category; but the basic old-world grace of the store remained recognizable, surely?

  “There’s her angel display she loves so much.” She pointed out sections that were still pure Aunt Marsha. “It’s just tiered to show off more of her stock.”

  “I do think I like that better,” Naomi allowed. “It rather looks like the choir at church.”

  That was exactly what Kiki had told Brooke she was aiming for. “What about the front windows?” She knew Naomi had driven by since Kiki had restyled the displays.

  “It’s eye-catching and...youthful.”

  Feeling some dismay at the decline in her enthusiasm, Brooke frowned at the two scenes. “The picnic-patio-party theme is supposed to represent family fun through
the summer, and a little romance.”

  “I don’t know that I would call two penguins sipping on straws from the same cup romantic. In fact, I can’t tell who’s the girl penguin and who’s the boy.”

  “What about the decorated wagon with the stuffed animals holding flags as though they were in a Fourth of July parade?” Brooke asked, thinking Kiki had achieved a miracle getting the not-so-small borrowed unit into the window. One of her brothers and two male friends of hers had helped.

  “It would have stronger impact if they were wearing military hats or firemen’s gear, or even dressed like colonial people? I’m not saying it’s not a good start.”

  Then why was she frowning? Reminding herself that she was talking to someone who had almost as much emotionally invested in the store as her aunt did, Brooke replied, “Those are quite good points. I’ll recommend them to Kiki.”

  Naomi turned to look at the mannequin hands wearing bright rings and bracelets. “She’s definitely got an imagination. I couldn’t see myself wearing any of that, though.”

  “We have to draw in a younger crowd, Naomi. The only times the younger generation needs a florist is for homecoming and prom corsages.”

  “That’s true.” With a sigh, Naomi returned to the back and checked the computer and fax machine, only to catch herself. “Look at me. I act like I still belong here.”

  “You do,” Brooke assured her. “In fact, I just printed an order that came via email from Pine Country Real Estate. There it is on the workbench. Mrs. Wyman? She seems to be using some code about what she wants. Can you explain that to me?”

  Naomi went to the table in the center of the room and held up the order to better read it under the fluorescent lights. “Oh, sure. Mona Wyman wants something sent to the office. It must be time to drive her husband nuts again. She does that now and again.”

  Brooke shook her head. “Because?”

  “Drew, Mr. Wyman, tends to have a short attention span. So along with her efforts in keeping the romance alive in their marriage, she’ll periodically turn the tables to trigger his jealousy.”

  “But if we send the flowers to her office, how does he learn about her fictitious suitor?”

  “Oh, they jointly own and run the agency.”

  “That would explain it.” It was one of the newer of Sweet Springs’ four real estate firms. “Then you know what she’ll want?”

  “Something a bit more provocative than a dozen roses. We always include a tantalizing message on the card, too.”

  “Wicked woman. And how do you know that it works?” Brooke asked.

  “Because Drew Wyman always comes in and tries to find out who sent the things. He’s tried to bribe me and Marsha both.”

  Brooke remained perplexed and a little discouraged. “Why would a woman spend so much money to keep a man with such a short attention span interested?”

  “Would you abandon a child with attention deficit disorder? If Baskin-Robbins and Ben and Jerry can think up more flavors of ice cream every year, who are we to think there are only so many ways for a relationship to work? It’s not my idea of a way to live—or love—but I’ve seen them at the grill across the street, and they sure looked like they were having a good time making up.”

  As Naomi giggled to herself, Brooke thought she would stay single the rest of her life if that was the best she could hope for in a relationship. “So what do you suggest?” she asked her aunt’s dearest friend.

  “The Hawaiian plant with the long stamen.” Naomi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I just have to think of the right notation for the card. With luck he’ll sweep Mona out of the office and they probably won’t resurface in public until sometime tomorrow.”

  If it wasn’t for the visible order, Brooke would have been suspicious. “I think you told me that story just to get my mind off Aunt Marsha,” Brooke scolded playfully.

  Smiling, Naomi started searching the supply shelves for the perfect base for her creation. “Don’t think I’m nosy, although I am, but how did that move go over the weekend? The last time that young man took so much time off, he had to fly back home to Montana when his father burst his appendix.”

  “Oh, my!” Brooke knew how dangerous that had been due to a fellow classmate enduring the same thing in grade school. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Naomi continued to examine vases. “It all worked out okay, although it was touch and go for a while. My point is that I’m glad you’ve made the decisions you have, and that you have someone that strong and good-hearted to help you.”

  “He is that.” Unable to resist, Brooke had to ask, “Speaking of strange relationships...do you know much about Liz Hooper?”

  The older woman snorted with disdain. “Everyone knows about Liz.” Choosing an elegant black vase, Naomi cast her a glance over her glasses. “What brings her up?”

  “One of the ‘everyone’ you mentioned is Gage.”

  Frowning, Naomi scoffed, “The only way someone like Gage would have anything to do with the likes of her is if she kidnapped, drugged and duct taped him to a mattress.” She pointed a blossom at Brooke. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about her. If Gage took time away from his practice to help you, he’s interested in only one woman and that isn’t Liz.”

  Relieved, Brooke immediately backtracked. “Well, it’s not like we’re dating or anything—neither of us have time—but he’s a good man, and a good neighbor. As such, I worried for him.”

  Naomi drawled, “Liz and flypaper have a lot in common.” She glanced at the clock. “Well, girl, why are you still here when you should be at the hospital?”

  “I was waiting for Kiki to return,” Brooke replied, although she was admittedly eager to leave. “Charles hasn’t arrived yet, and Kiki won’t return for another few minutes.”

  “So what? Whether she told you or not, Marsha will be needing the comfort of your sweet, calm self long before they wheel her to surgery. Get going, child!”

  Chapter Six

  Brooke made it to the hospital minutes later, only to learn that her aunt had already been wheeled into surgery! She was told that there was a sudden shift in schedules and Marsha had been bumped forward. Worrying that this had to do with a downturn in her aunt’s condition, Brooke was brushed off by the senior nurse at the desk, who said, “Let her surgeon do his job, dear.”

  Her mind spinning, Brooke retreated to the waiting room. Not even knowing if she had a long wait ahead of her, or an abbreviated one due to bad news, she bought herself time by reading texts and listening to cell phone messages. Since the first was from Gage, she returned it first.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but they took her early,” she told him. “A scheduling change they say. That’s all I know so far,” Brooke said, fighting new frustration.

  “Wow,” he replied. “You’re worried she had another setback, aren’t you?”

  “What other reason could there be, unless another patient was either too weak or died?”

  “And they’re not going to share that bit of information.”

  Feeling somewhat better, Brooke reasoned aloud, “Common sense tells me they wouldn’t try doing this if she was too weak.”

  “Keep up that mantra.” After a slight pause, Gage added, “I’m afraid things aren’t great here, either. Something has happened, but I don’t want you to worry.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The guy who did our heavy cleaning... He’s been ripping us off. Roy confirmed it this morning when I arrived. I’ve been tied up with the sheriff and police all morning.”

  Brooke could hardly wrap her mind around the idea. “Are you all right? Have they arrested him?”

  “Not yet, but they’re hot on his trail.”

  “You sound incredibly calm for this kind of news.”


  “That’s because I’m talking to you.” Gage’s voice went low and soft, like a caress. “My one regret is that this will mean that I’ll be late getting there.”

  “I’m fine. It’s more important that things get taken care of there. You aren’t holding anything back, are you? You’re not in danger?”

  “I promise I’m not.”

  “Okay. Then don’t do anything to hurt or endanger yourself, either.”

  He uttered a brief laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as the old-timers came in this morning and heard the news, they went right back outside and got their shotguns.”

  Brooke had seen the line of vehicles parked on the side of the building with their gun racks, proof that this was still Texas in more ways than one, and covered her eyes in a mixture of amusement and concern. “You did talk them into putting them back and locking up, right?”

  “Everything is fine. I promise. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

  That wouldn’t be quick enough, Brooke thought after they disconnected. She found herself yearning to be in his arms, to feel his heart beating against hers.

  Things got a bit busier soon afterward when several people stopped by—Aunt Marsha’s pastor, a pair of friends from her Sunday-school class and the elderly couple from across the street. In between Naomi called, as well as dear gentlemanly Charles, asking if she needed him and Chloe to come sit with her after he did the evening deliveries.

  Assuring him that what she needed was for him to go home and rest up for the next day’s work, she returned to her pacing, until Naomi checked in again. Brooke was surprised to find that it was closing in on noon.

  “Well, hasn’t anyone come out to explain things to you?” the frank woman demanded.

  “No. And I asked at the desk only three minutes ago, but they insisted that when there was something to say, I’d be told. I don’t like this, Naomi. I’m worried.”

  “Me, too. They run a fine operation there, but you have to believe that if it was terrible news, they would have had to come tell you. Surgeries are busy places. They can’t leave bodies blocking traffic.”