Heaving Danny’s gurney off the ground, the men raced out the door.
Sky checked her watch, and her pulsing hope grew faint.
Five and a half minutes.
Goddamnit.
Chapter Four
Three Months Later
Just as the Bella vaccine was her brother’s legacy, this clinic was hers. She and Edmond had built this place from nothing, and now that Edmond was gone, it was up to Sky alone to preserve the good they had accomplished together.
Smoothing her hands over her thighs, she drew in an invigorating breath, and then, with steely resolve, marched down the windowless corridor of the family medicine clinic.
As she passed Edmond’s office, a rustling noise drew her attention to his door, which was slightly ajar. Edmond’s office was not a shrine, but Sky had turned it into something of a sanctuary. Since his death, she’d spent more time in Edmond’s office than her own. Maybe because it was larger and more organized than her office, or maybe because his presence still permeated the room.
The tick of his watch, which she’d placed on the desk atop a note written in his distinctive hand, soothed her. An ultramarine scrub top lay where he’d left it, neatly folded on a side stool waiting to be laundered. Now, a crazy idea that she would open the door and find Edmond inside stopped her pulse.
Then, remembrance cooled her hope and started her numb heart thudding again. Without expectation, she nudged the door the rest of the way open and peeked inside. What she saw caused her brow to pinch and her shoulders to jerk to attention. There was no mistaking the knockout blonde bending over Edmond’s desk.
What was Halston Reece doing in this office?
Sniffing in the itchy scent of Halston’s expensive perfume, Sky negotiated her way across the frayed carpeting that betrayed the precarious financial plight of Flagstaff’s one and only nonprofit clinic. With her index finger, she rubbed out the crease that stung her forehead and gave away her displeasure. “Hello?”
Halston whirled, slapped a hand across her chest and blurted, “Dr. Novak, you scared the crap out of me.”
Considering how full of crap the leggy pharmaceutical rep was, Sky doubted that one little scare had been enough to clean her out. She was tempted to throw in a “boo” for good measure.
A manicured hand wafted to Halston’s side, and her tight smile relaxed. Her voice caramelized into crème brûlée. “It must be fantastic having Dr. Garth Novak for a brother.”
The non sequitur compliment to her brother, Garth, was no doubt intended to confuse Sky and soften her irritation, and to some degree it succeeded. But not enough to distract her from the fact that Halston had no business being in the doctors’ private area, much less Edmond’s office, unescorted. Searching out her most courteous tone, she replied, “As a matter of fact, Garth is a fantastic brother. Thank you for saying so. Is there something I can help you with? This is…this was Dr. Guerretin’s office.”
Cheeks flushing, Halston whisked a hand from behind her back and patted a desk drawer closed.
Sky clenched her fists and then relaxed them. Perhaps out of morbid curiosity Halston had poked her nose in where she shouldn’t have, but more likely, Sky had inadvertently left the desk drawer open, and Halston had merely closed it out of habit.
With a guilty quirk of her mouth Halston said, “I just dropped off some antibiotic samples up front, and I need a signature. I was looking for you, and well, your medical assistant—what’s her name again?”
“Soyla.”
“Right. Weird name. I never can remember it. Anyway, Soyla mentioned you’d taken to doing your paperwork in Edmond’s, I mean Dr. Guerretin’s, office, so I figured I might find you in here.” Halston’s lips parted to reveal a flash of over-whitened teeth. “And look it, here you are. Just give me one sec to pull you up on my blackberry.”
Sky accepted a stylus from Halston and scribbled her name on the screen next to the X.
“Thanks, Dr. Novak, and hey, do a gal a favor and thank the other Dr. Novak for me, will you? Last month, I found out I have the BRCA breast cancer gene mutation, and I ran straight to your brother for his new vaccine.” Leaning in, Halston cupped her hand around her mouth. “But I tell ya the truth, that Bella stung like a mother-you-know-what. For a second I thought I’d rather get breast cancer.”
Sky took a hasty step back.
“Oh, I hope I didn’t offend. I guess joking around is my way of keeping the boogieman away. I don’t mind telling you I was living scared after I tested positive for the gene, and if it weren’t for your brother’s vaccine… Well, you will tell him I’m grateful, won’t you?”
Of course, any woman who’d just learned she carried a deadly gene would be frightened. Regretting her abruptness, she stepped forward and gently touched Halston’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll convey your appreciation. Garth will be so pleased he was able to help.”
“Great. I’ll drop by with more goodies and samples later this week.” Halston backed out of the office, long legs jumping like a grasshopper crossing a minefield, but her stiletto heels caught a loose carpet thread now and again anyway. Stilettos might be appropriate footgear for calling on a posh Scottsdale office, but in this place, they were downright dangerous.
With some difficulty, Sky resisted humming a reminder verse from Johnny Rivers’ “On the Poor Side of Town.” After Halston’s exit, Sky moved behind Edmond’s desk and checked to see that all the drawers were indeed properly closed. A wash of nostalgia burned her throat as she noted the sleek, copper-framed photo of Edmond and her, heads converging over a young patient, occupying center-stage on his desktop.
Reaching out, she squared up the picture frame. Edmond hated a messy desk. And yet he had loved her. Despite his flawless ordering of his own universe, Edmond had never criticized her disorderliness. Never hinted that she might be late less often if she wore a watch or kept her keys in a set location. Never frowned at her desk, piled high with charts and unsorted mail, or lifted a disapproving eyebrow when she showed up for dinner with shoes and dress unmatched. If she apologized, he hugged her and said he’d happily escort her barefoot to a charity ball if only she’d smile.
Wishing she’d smiled for him more often, she exited the office and made her way down the long narrow hallway that separated the doctors’ offices from the rest of the family medicine clinic. The discordant noise of infants wailing and couples chiding each other in Spanish, English and Farsi alerted her that she was nearing Chaos Central.
“Hi, guys.” Sky jutted her chin at her patients, and their frazzled expressions changed to grins. She brushed Cheetos dust off the sign that read “NO FOOD OR DRINK ALLOWED,” removed a climbing toddler from a table top and picked her way across the waiting room, pausing once again to dust yet more orange residue off the “PARENTS PLEASE SUPERVISE YOUR CHILDREN” sign before finding herself toe to toe with the world’s greatest—and testiest—medical assistant.
No mistaking what the stern set of Soyla’s brow meant. She knew that look all too well. “How backed up are we?”
Soyla’s hand rested on her hip. Her elbow accused Sky. “We aren’t backed up at all. You, on the other hand, are going to need a plumber with a turbo snake. You’re an hour behind already and double-booked all the way ‘till seven tonight.”
“Ouch.”
“I don’t wanna hear any bellyaching from the girl who can’t say no. Have you thought of sending some of these repeat offenders to the ER? When was the last time your doctor got you in same day?” Soyla extended a no-nonsense arm, palm forward in a shush sign. “Never, that’s when. Nobody expects to get in when they call last minute.”
“Nobody expects to get sick either, but they do.”
“You could train them to call earlier, and only when they’re super sick.”
She batted Soyla’s arm away. “I don’t think my job is to train them. My job is to help them. Now, where do I start? Are the patients roomed in order?”
“Yep. Room nine’s first, th
en thirteen, eight, and eleven.”
This nutty, dynamo of a woman was Sky’s rock. Trying to cover the fact that she found even Soyla’s shortcomings endearing, Sky huffed, “Lord help us if we ever need you to alphabetize the charts.”
I’ve come about the case.
Danny mentally rehearsed the words, admonishing himself to mind them, wincing at a pain that came not from the throbbing in his left shoulder, but rather from a tightness in his chest, lower, nearer the heart—an ache brought on by the sight of Sky Novak. From a row of narrow windows, cold evening light filtered down into Edmond’s office, darkly tinting Sky’s face and accentuating a new gauntness in her features. Her hair fell about her shoulders in long brown waves, untended and wild. Seated behind Edmond’s desk, in a massive chair that engulfed her too thin form, she clasped a photo.
He hadn’t seen her since the day of the robbery. He hadn’t seen her since she sat rocking a corpse in Jolene’s diner, and he still wasn’t ready to face her. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. He’d come about the case, and no amount of personal discomfort could deter him from doing his duty.
He took a few steps forward, but she was too deep in her thoughts to notice him. The air was saturated with the musk of old books, and his throat started to itch. When he coughed, she dropped the photograph, and its metal frame clattered against the desktop. Then an image of Sky and Edmond, their faces close, glared accusingly up at him.
“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” That was a lie. He’d been studying her silently from the doorway. Not long, but long enough to glimpse something he wasn’t meant to see: Her desolate expression as she stared at the photograph. He’d memorized that expression, and then tucked away the intimacy of the moment. Locked it in an inner vault—though for what purpose he didn’t know. Maybe so he could goad himself later with the knowledge that he was the man responsible for her suffering. Maybe so he could be certain never to forget that he’d failed both Sky and Edmond. Hands fisted, he took another step forward and planted himself in front of her.
Reaching out, he righted the photograph and arranged the frame so it stood secure. She’d been gazing at Edmond’s picture with a tenderness he knew would never shine from her eyes for him. His jaw clenched as he realized just exactly how indecent it was for him to be thinking of such things when a good man like Edmond Guerretin had lost his life—a good man who was dead, quite simply, because Danny had ignored department policy.
Off-duty officers were supposed to carry their guns.
Backing away from the desk, his fingers pulled a loose thread on his jacket, and the air he breathed seemed to disintegrate before he could fill his lungs. “I’ve come about the case,” he said, clearing the itch from his throat, and he hoped, the gravel from his voice. “And to thank you for saving my life. I’m afraid I’m long overdue on that score, Dr. Novak.”
Looking past him, she blinked moisture from her eyes.
Clearly, he was intruding on a private moment, but he had a hell of a lot of questions on his mind, and he had no intention of leaving without getting some answers. Giving her a moment to compose herself, he glanced around Edmond’s office. It was neat, well-ordered. “Like I said, I didn’t mean to startle you, but your nurse said I could find you here. She also said you come in here every night.”
He should just stick to the case. “You okay?”
On the desktop in front of her, a book thicker than Geberth’s text on homicide investigation lay open. Jerking to attention, she slammed the book closed. “I’m fine. How may I help you, Detective Benson?”
When he furrowed his brow, she added, “All right then…Danny. I’ll drop the formality if you will.”
“Deal.”
His eyes swept down her delicate body as she rose from the chair and faced him. She looked so damn fragile. Her white blouse, wrinkled and grimy from a long day tending the sick, hung loosely over her collarbones. Aware of his gaze, she tugged the collar of her shirt close just as a wave of crimson crept across the creamy skin of her throat.
Averting his eyes from the swell of her breasts, he found himself staring at the lush fullness of her mouth, and even the remorse balling up in his stomach didn’t stop him from imagining what it would be like to lick that mouth until it opened beneath his. He raked a hand through his hair and pasted on his best choirboy face, afraid she could read the salacious thoughts running through his head. He didn’t want to burden her with that little piece of intelligence.
“You look well,” she said neutrally.
He had no idea if she bought his act or not. Only a moment ago, her eyes had been brimming with emotion, but now, squaring up with his, they revealed nothing. Now, looking into her eyes was like peering through the windows of a house no longer lit from the inside. He could only guess at the contents. “I’m in your debt, Sky. And I don’t intend to let you down again.”
“I’m a doctor. I did my job.” Her tone, like her eyes, concealed her reaction to him. If she harbored any resentment against him, she was too kind to show it.
“But I didn’t do mine.”
She moved in closer. “If it hadn’t been for you we might all be dead. That man wouldn’t have hesitated to slaughter everyone in the diner. Nevaeh’s going to be okay. My brother, that boy, Cookie…and me. We’re all alive because of you.” Her hand lifted to touch him.
Despite the layers of clothing concealing his scar, her fingers found and grazed the very spot where the bullet had entered his chest. Warmth radiated across his skin from the point of contact, and he stiffened, fighting back the urge to draw her to him.
The only comfort he had any right to offer her was justice. “If I’d had my gun on me, I could’ve stopped the robbery before anyone—before Edmond—was shot. I didn’t do my duty that day, but I promise you, I’ll do it now.”
“Don’t be stupid.” The volume in her voice rose, and its frailness disappeared. “I’ve read the newspapers. The op-ed pieces about police officers carrying off-duty. But you can’t let that get to you. Even if you’d had your gun, the outcome might have been the same, maybe worse. To believe otherwise is a distortion of the truth.”
He covered his mouth with his palm. She was wrong. In his heart, he knew Edmond would still be alive if he’d been armed. But arguing the point with Sky now was like trawling for absolution. And that was a fish he didn’t deserve to catch in his net. Not until he solved this goddamn case. “You’ve lost weight.”
“I don’t hold you responsible for Edmond’s death,” she said.
He used his teeth to scrape away a bitter taste on his tongue. “Thank you for that.”
“I did wonder though. Why? Why were you unarmed?”
At last. The sixty-four-thousand dollar question. “That morning, I’d been out shooting the sunrise over the Peaks, with a camera, I mean. I was lugging a tripod, a bunch of lenses. I didn’t think it was necessary to bring a weapon.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Besides, being alone in the wilderness brings me peace, I guess.” He found a nickel and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “At the risk of sounding like a sap, it brings me a feeling of connection with the universe and…”
“And a gun would ruin that feeling.”
He felt a catch in his throat so strong it pissed him off. Sky seemed to understand something about him others didn’t. His body canted forward. “I know how rough this has been on you.”
“I doubt that.”
Glancing down at the photograph of Sky and Edmond, he reminded himself to keep the conversation professional. Yet he understood her grief all too well. Their mutual pain bridged the gap of short acquaintance, bonded them together. And she was so vulnerable it felt like he wielded an unfair advantage over her. Maybe if he shared his own private agony it would even the playing field.
No. He’d have to be an asshole to tell her about Grace. She’d only wind up comforting him when what he meant was to comfort her. He tapped his fingers on the desktop, hesitating, and eventually opted for par
tial disclosure, “I lost my wife shortly after Katie was born, so yeah, I know a bit of what you’re going through.”
She touched his wound again, and the room went silent except for the soft sounds of their breathing. At last she said, “You mentioned something about the case?”
The case. Shit he was an asshole. Drawing his shoulders back, he pulled his hands close to his sides, and his left arm bumped reassuringly against the bulge of his sidearm. He damned sure wouldn’t be caught unprepared again. “I’d like to ask you some questions pertaining to the robbery.”
“Now?”
“I don’t think they can wait.”
“But…I don’t see why. Your colleagues have been investigating for months. Last week the mayor was kind enough to call me personally—he and Garth went to school together. He said the case is closed. Jack Spurlock was a career criminal, out on parole. Now he’s dead. I hate to admit I’m glad a human being lost his life, but I am. It’s a relief to know he can’t harm anyone ever again.”
So the mayor was buddies with Novak. That might explain why he’d pushed the captain to close the case when there were more holes in it than farts in the precinct locker room. The mayor wanted to set his friend’s mind at ease. Well, Danny still had a motherload of questions. “I have a few concerns.”
Soyla knocked at the open door. “Sorry to interrupt, but Doc, it’s nearly eight, and I finished balancing out an hour ago. Maybe this clinic is all you got, but I got a hungry man at home who claims he can’t work a microwave. If we don’t lock up and get out of here, he may go looking for a divorce lawyer on the grounds of me lookin’ out for you more than him. And that would be a rotten shame ‘cause he may not know how to work the buttons on the microwave, but he sure knows how to work mine.”
Sky laughed, and the sound flashed through the room, unexpected and bright. “Of course, let’s get you home STAT. If you lock the front, I’ll take Detective Benson out the private entrance. Have you got the deposit ready?”
First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 Page 4
