“Do you have any idea who might have been here last night?”
“Don’t I wish. Then I could pay a visit and ask a few questions.”
“Does Hideaway have a lot of trouble with burglaries?”
“No, just too many deaths lately.”
He reached out and took her hands in his. “Here’s what we’re going to do. First, we’re going to wait until the locksmith gets here. Do you know this person?”
“My cousin Jimmy Dale.”
“We’re going to wait until Jimmy Dale gets here, and then the three of us are going to search the house.”
“His brother, Bart, will probably come with him.”
“Then the four of us will search the house together, basement to attic. Then when we get done with that, I’m staying here until those locks are changed, and—”
“He’ll be putting deadbolts in, too, I’m sure. And an alarm system. Jimmy and Bart will probably be here until midnight or later, because even after the work is done, they’ll sit around and talk forever.”
Rex shook his head in wonder. “You really are related to half the town, aren’t you?
“Yes, and when my other cousins Cecil and Melva hear about this, they’ll be camped out here, as well.”
“Then we might as well prepare for a party. I plan to stay on until the end.”
Jimmy Dale and Bart Cooper arrived four minutes later. It was the beginning of a long night.
Chapter Thirty
On Tuesday morning, Jill finished her coffee, rinsed the mug and set it in the kitchen sink. The locks were changed, deadbolts in place, alarm system up and running. She’d already set it off twice yesterday—in the morning as soon as she got up and when she got home.
She was safe. So why didn’t she feel safe? Several times Sunday night and twice last night she had awakened suddenly, sure she’d heard something in the house.
Rex had called her last night, and Noelle had dropped by just to make sure everything was okay.
At Noelle’s urging, Jill had even picked up a jar of that wonderfully scented facial mask from the spa. She planned to give herself a facial today after Cecil’s funeral.
Last night, she hadn’t eaten dinner, and she woke with no appetite this morning. She needed either to get rid of some tension or increase her medication for a few weeks, which she preferred not to do unless absolutely necessary.
She was just about to step out her back door when she caught sight of the blinking light on her answering machine.
With a sense of wonder, she stepped over to it. In all the excitement, she hadn’t checked for messages on Sunday or Monday. She had actually failed to make one of her habitual checks.
In spite of all the stress, Jill could not prevent a little swell of pride. During her worst times with her compulsions, she would never have left a message on the machine overnight. There had been a time when she checked for messages six times a day, sometimes more.
Now, although her medicine couldn’t have returned to therapeutic range, and though she was under nearly as much stress as she had been last year, she had missed this message.
What small accomplishments it took to make a person happy.
She pressed Play and listened to the sound of Rex Fairfield’s low, drawling voice drift through the room. He’d wanted to talk to her Saturday night. Had he called when he saw the light?
How had he come to be so important to her in such a short time?
Once again, she checked to make sure the house was secure, then set the alarm system, let herself out the back door, locked it behind her and set off on foot to the clinic.
Rex stared at the ledger sheets he had spread across the table in the clinic’s conference room. He was stretching, mentally coming up for air, when someone knocked on the door. Blaze entered with a fresh cup of coffee and three chocolate iced crullers.
“Ah, the bakery run.” Rex set down his automatic pencil and shoved aside his calculator. “You people do know how to spoil a guy. And his waistline.”
“We aim to please.” Blaze sank into the chair across the table and reached for one of the crullers with a grin. “Can’t chance ruining your health, though, before we get the hospital complete, so I’ll help. You really think we can do it by the festival?”
“I think so.”
“You’ll stay until it’s done?”
“I have some other obligations in the next couple of weeks, some follow-ups on other projects, but, yes, that’s in my job description. I plan to do anything it takes to help the present administration turn this place into a rural hospital.” In fact, the idea of leaving Hideaway depressed him. “I thought you had classes on Tuesdays.”
“Funeral this afternoon. I have bereavement leave.” Blaze leaned back in his comfy swivel chair, eyeing Rex for a moment, then looking away as he sank his teeth into the cruller.
Blaze wasn’t typical of other kids his age group. He attended College of the Ozarks, which had a work-study program, so not only did he have to work the same amount of hours per week as his class hours, he also worked at the clinic as much as he could. Rex heard he helped out at the bed and breakfast, as well, when he could.
“Weren’t you a resident in internal medicine when you and Jill were engaged?” Blaze asked.
Rex suppressed a grin. Leave it to the Hideaway grapevine. “That’s right. It’s a specialty you might like. It’s for workaholics.”
Blaze shook his head. “Not for me. Give me a barn full of cows and goats and pigs.”
“Vet school’s harder than med school, I hear.”
“Not if you love what you’re doing.” Blaze looked down at his half-eaten cruller, then at Rex. “Guess you didn’t, huh? That why you got out of it?”
“I did love it, actually. I’ve always loved medicine. Treating patients can be the most rewarding occupation in the world.”
“And so you changed professions…why?”
“I have the opportunity now to help even more patients with what I’m doing, and this way I have a chance to influence policy from the inception of the hospital, instead of being a puppet of politics.”
Lately, he wasn’t sure he believed that, himself. The real reason he’d begun this business was because he needed to work shorter hours to save his marriage and have a better quality family life. This was the best way he could do that and still make an impact in the medical field. And now where were his marriage and family?
Blaze finished off his cruller and washed it down with a final swallow of coffee. “You’re not catching Jill at her best right now, you know.”
Rex raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject. “What makes me think you brought an agenda in with the coffee and doughnuts?”
Blaze spread his hands. “Just thought you’d want to know. She doesn’t usually misplace files and get grumpy with patients.” He thought about that for a minute, then amended his comment. “Or at least, not that grumpy.”
He was referring, Rex guessed, to an unfortunate incident earlier this morning when Jill had snapped at poor Richard Cook for being late for his appointment, then jumped him for complaining about his hemorrhoids.
“Jill’s known Cook for a long time,” Blaze said. “He lives at the boys’ ranch and takes care of us. Bertie calls him a chondromaniac. She means hypochondriac. Anyway, Jill’s still freaked about the deaths.”
“You don’t have to defend anyone, Blaze. I’m not here to do the hiring and firing.” Or to hear about anyone’s hemorrhoids.
“Anybody ever tell you about the drama with the Cooper family last year?”
“Jill told me.”
“It hit her pretty hard. Just thought you’d want to know that,” Blaze said. “Didn’t want you getting the wrong impression about her.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” Rex said. He’d jumped to the wrong conclusions once before about Jill, and held expectations that were unrealistic and unfair. That would not happen again.
Blaze patted icing from his lips with a nap
kin. “So you’re saying she hasn’t changed much since you two were engaged?”
“The basics are still there.”
“She sure loved Edith.”
“Yes.”
“And Cecil.”
“I know.”
Another pause, then, “She’s not convinced either of the deaths were from natural causes.”
“No.”
Blaze’s thick, black eyebrows rose in surprise, an obvious invitation for further comment. “She talked to you about that?”
“Did she talk to you about it?”
Blaze shook his head. “I just hear it in her voice when she mentions them. I can see it in her eyes sometimes when she thinks no one is watching.”
“How can you see something like that in a person’s eyes?”
Again, that shake of the head, as if Blaze was trying to figure that out, himself. “I guess I can read people, but it isn’t something I do consciously. I’ve heard her ask Cheyenne questions a time or two about Edith’s heart, and this morning she was asking about Cecil.”
“She was?”
“I know she’s grieving, but there seems to be more involved than simple grief.” Blaze hesitated, cleared his throat. “Sometimes she tends to get carried away.”
“I know about the OCD, Blaze. I don’t think that’s what this is.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I have to agree with Jill that she has reason for suspicion. However, I’m not the law around here, and right now the law has other ideas. Are you sure you wouldn’t consider pre-med? You have a way with people.”
Blaze watched him for a long moment, as if digesting what he’d just said. But Rex had learned early on that Blaze wasn’t always easy to read, and he apparently wasn’t in the mood to divulge his thoughts at this moment. “Give me a squealing piglet over a squealing kidlet any day.”
There was another knock at the open door. Jill stuck her head in. “Blaze, we need you in Two for X-rays on Mrs. Mann’s ankle.”
“I’m on it.” Blaze wiped his hands once more, tossed his napkin in the trash, and nodded to Rex as he stepped past Jill. “Nice talking to you, Doc.”
As Blaze swept past Jill, she glanced at Rex.
“Are you doing okay today?” he asked.
“I’m good. Thanks for checking on me last night.”
“You know I would have been glad to come over.”
She blinked. Jill had that wide-eyed blue gaze that had always entranced him. One look from her could imprint her image in his mind for the rest of the day.
But that was twenty-two years ago.
“Is everything okay with you?” she asked, her voice softer. “You’ve been…more thoughtful the past couple of days.”
He should have told her it was because he was concerned about her, but he didn’t. “I had an unfortunate telephone run-in with the mother of my stepchildren Saturday night. I’m presently banned from seeing them.”
Now, why had he said that?
“Oh, I’m sorry.” And she really did sound sorry. She also sounded ragged around the edges, as if she hadn’t slept well. “Why didn’t you say something about that? Here I went on and on about my own problems, and you were—”
“I was more concerned about you at the time. I know what a shock these two deaths have been for you. I also worry about those lights in your attic, and—”
“I can handle it.”
“I know that.”
“Cecil’s funeral is at one this afternoon,” she reminded him, “but if you want to keep working—”
“No. I’ll be attending the funeral.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry to hear about your stepsons. I hope you get to see them again soon.”
“I’m sure I will. My ex has done this before.” He heard the weariness in his voice, saw the responding compassion in Jill’s eyes, and twenty-two years fell away.
He was a young man again, remembering every reason he had loved her.
His first choice, all those years ago, had been the best. Definitely the best. Perhaps that was why he had waited for several years after his breakup with Jill to get married.
Someone called her name from the reception office.
“Coming,” she called over her shoulder, then with another brief look at Rex, she left him alone again.
Blaze met Jill in the hallway, looking dazed. “Jill, you’re not going to believe this.”
“Try me.” She picked up a clipboard and wrapped her stethoscope around her neck.
He leaned closer, voice softening. “It’s Austin Barlow in One. He’s asking for you.”
“What’s he doing here? He didn’t have an appointment. In fact, if I remember correctly, he refused to see our lowly women doctors.”
“Doesn’t look as if that’ll be as much of a problem this time,” Blaze said.
“And that’s because…?”
“He’s half-blind.”
“Stop with the word games. What are you talking about?”
Blaze crooked his finger at her and led her to the first exam room, where Austin Barlow sat on the exam bed, sweating profusely, eyes wide with obvious distress. In the chair against the wall, forest ranger Taylor Jackson sat watching the man with concern.
“We’ve got us an emergency,” Blaze said.
“I didn’t hear an alert,” Jill said. “What happened?”
“I told you,” Blaze said. “His vision’s gone out of one eye.”
“Jill?” Austin’s voice trembled. He looked at her, then at Blaze, then at the wall in front of him.
She reached for his hand. “What’s going on?”
“I was hoping someone here could tell me.”
“Which eye is affected?”
“My right.”
“When did you lose your vision?” she asked.
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
“That was when he called me,” Taylor told her.
“Has this happened before?” Jill asked.
Austin hesitated. “A couple of times, but it never lasted as long as this. It doesn’t hurt. It feels like sunspots. You know, when you look too long at a light, and things blank out on you?”
“Did you contact a doctor about it before?”
He closed his eyes then. “No.”
“Why not?”
Austin didn’t reply.
“Hello?” she snapped. What was it about noncommunicative men? Especially when they needed help?
“It didn’t last this long,” he said. “I don’t suppose Dr. Fairfield would happen to be here today.”
“Still the macho good ol’ boy, huh?” She injected gentleness into her voice. Any other time he would have smiled at that comment. Now she only saw fear.
“I guess a skunk doesn’t always lose his stripes,” he said. “Can’t help myself.”
“You should know by now he isn’t seeing patients.”
“Is Cheyenne here?” he asked more softly.
“I’ll get her.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Rex couldn’t help himself. Sound carried well down the hallway, and he was curious when he heard about Austin Barlow.
He met Cheyenne in the hallway as she emerged from Austin’s exam room. “This one has me intrigued,” he said to her. “How about a consult on the case?”
“You heard?”
“I heard. Has he given the name of his family doctor?”
“He says he doesn’t have one at the moment.” Cheyenne looked worried. “He’s blind in his right eye, Rex.”
“Any pain?”
“None.”
“Then we’re thinking about a possible clot or vasculitis.”
“I’ve already ordered a sed rate to look for an inflammatory cause, as well as the usual blood work. He’ll be going for a CT scan in just a few minutes. The mobile scanner is here today, and we can get him in as an emergency.”
“What does the eye exam show?” Rex asked. “Does it look like central retinal occlusion, or—”
“I didn’t see any abnormalities on fundoscopic exam.”
“What about intraocular pressure?”
“Normal,” Cheyenne said. “For both eyes.”
He was impressed by her thoroughness, but by now it didn’t surprise him.
“I have a call in to an ophthalmologist,” Cheyenne said. “I think we can get Austin right in—”
“That won’t be necessary,” came a deep male voice from the entrance to the exam room. Austin stepped into the threshold, his large frame filling the doorway.
“What are you doing out here?” Cheyenne said. “We need to get you into the CT—”
Austin covered his left eye with his hand, and with his right eye, held Cheyenne’s gaze. “It’s over. Just like before.” He dropped his hand and nodded to Rex. “Hi, doc. Looks like we’ve got us a false alarm.”
“Not so fast,” Cheyenne said. “We don’t know what caused this blind spell. We can’t stop trying to figure it out just because—”
“That’s what I’m going to do.” Austin nodded to her, then to Jill, who had just joined them in the hallway. With a quick glance back into the exam room, he thanked Taylor Jackson for bringing him in. Then he pivoted and walked out of the clinic.
Cheyenne looked at Taylor as he stepped out of the exam room. “Can’t you do something?”
The tall red-haired man shook his head soberly. “Sorry. You know we can’t legally hold him. He isn’t suicidal, isn’t homicidal.”
“What if he tries to drive? He could lose his vision and run off the road, run into oncoming traffic. He could be dangerous to himself and others.”
“I can’t stop him just on the off chance he’s going to lose his sight, Cheyenne.”
Cheyenne looked at Rex. “He would be more likely to listen to you.”
“No,” Jill said. “He would be more likely to listen to me.”
Cheyenne’s dark eyes filled with relief. “That’s my super-nurse. Do whatever it takes to talk some sense into him.”
“I’ll go with her,” Rex suggested.
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