by Debra Webb
“Do you have a theory as to why Banks resorted to murder? There has to be a motive even for an unsavory character such as him.”
That was the part she didn’t quite understand yet. “Banks claims he’s innocent. He says Shelley was involved with Tyrone Nash. But so is he. I don’t know if he’s just trying to shift guilt. But . . .” CJ shook her head. “I can’t get past the idea that he is most likely the father of the baby she was carrying. I have no choice but to wait for the answer to that question. A DNA test can determine paternity. But that takes time.”
“We could offer a reward for credible information,” he suggested. “Money talks, as they say.”
He was so sweet. To be honest, the idea was tempting. “That’s a very kind gesture, Edward. But I’m afraid we’d be inundated with false leads and misinformation. I really believe the only way to do this is by using the back-door strategy. Anything we do that tips off the person responsible is going to blow up in our faces.”
Edward stood. “Let me take you out for an early dinner. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And tonight you’ll stay in my home. A good night’s sleep will do wonders.”
CJ willed her body to rise. He was right. She was exhausted. “I thought I’d continue to stay here.” Other than last night, she hadn’t stayed here in months . . . not since learning about Shelley and Braddock. She’d stayed with Edward whenever she visited, which had only been twice since late February. “I need to be here.” She didn’t know any other way to explain the urge to be near Shelley’s things.
“I’d like to be able to convince you otherwise, but . . .” He bowed his head in acquiescence. “If you feel staying here is necessary, so be it.”
Relief left her already weary body weak. That had gone far more easily than she’d expected. Edward was a good friend. He wanted the best for her. But he didn’t understand that no matter how Shelley had hurt CJ and taken advantage of her, she was still CJ’s little sister.
She walked him to the door. “Thank you, Edward.” She drew in a satisfying breath, the first in several days. “I can always count on you.”
“Call me if you need me.”
He gave her a hug. She inhaled deeply. The subtle scent of his crisp sandalwood cologne reminded her that there were some things she could depend on.
Standing in the door, she watched him drive away. Then she closed the door and sagged against it.
Alone again.
She looked around the sparsely furnished room. Inhaled the familiar pungent scents.
Alone with the ghosts of her past.
She shuddered when she thought of the message she’d washed off the bedroom wall: Stay and there’ll be two dead bitches.
Neither Tyrone Nash nor Ricky Banks was going to scare her off. She would find some boards or something to nail over that broken window. And until this was over, she would keep every one of them locked no matter how damned hot it got in the house. Motivated by the thought, she checked the windows to ensure they were locked.
She was going to finish this.
As if her determination had somehow summoned him, she recognized the sedan across the street and halfway down the block. Jenkins was back on duty.
Braddock wasn’t backing off the surveillance.
She closed her eyes. Wished she could put him out of her mind for good.
Last night had done nothing to facilitate that end.
That could never happen again. She had to protect herself from a number of dangers . . . and Braddock was definitely one of them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Downtown Free Clinic
Tuesday, August 3, 10:30 AM
The waiting room was packed. Standing room only. CJ weaved her way through the crowd and waited until the receptionist was free.
“Good morning, I’m Dr. Patterson. I understand Juanita Lusk is here today.” Actually CJ was hoping Lusk was here. She’d mentioned working at this clinic, too.
The harried receptionist glanced from the line to CJ. “We’re a little busy right now. Are you here about the referrals?”
CJ hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
The gentleman next in line abruptly bent forward and puked.
“Jesus!” The receptionist jumped up, shook her head, then said to CJ, “Go on back. She’ll be in one of the exam rooms. She’s expecting you.”
“Thank you.” CJ slipped through the tangle of people and entered the double doors marked personnel only. She wasn’t in the habit of lying, but she was definitely getting in some practice here.
Whatever it took. Like the old days.
The first three exam rooms she passed housed waiting patients but no doctor. Six other patients waited in chairs along the wall. A nurse entered the fourth room. CJ peeked inside—no Lusk. The final room on the left was the one she was looking for. CJ waited outside the door since Lusk was with a patient.
“I won’t have the money to get the prescription filled before Friday.”
“Ms. Tyler,” Lusk said as she made her final notations in the chart, “Nikki needs the antibiotic now.”
The patient was a girl, seven or eight years old. Pale, skinny. The mother looked pretty much the same.
“I know,” the mother said, her face worried, “but I don’t have the money.”
“Okay.” Lusk heaved a big breath. “I think we have a few samples around here somewhere. Just wait here and I’ll find them.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much.”
Lusk nodded and turned to the door. She missed a step when she saw CJ watching from the corridor.
“I don’t know how you got back here,” Lusk said as she moved past her, “but I don’t have time for any more of your questions.”
CJ lengthened her step to keep up with the woman. “This isn’t about the murder.” It was, but Lusk didn’t need to be made aware of that.
“Talk fast, Patterson.” Lusk stopped at the lab station and started going through cabinets.
“I’m going to be in town for a while.”
“Great.” Lusk slammed one door and opened another.
“Anyway, I checked with my attending and he authorized me to volunteer here in Huntsville to fulfill the requirements of some of my elective hours.”
Lusk glanced at her before diving into the row of drawers.
“So, if you don’t have any objections, I’d like to help you out at the village clinic.”
Lusk grabbed a handful of samples, then stared at her. “What’re you up to, Patterson?”
“I need to stay,” she admitted. “Make sure the cops do their job. But I don’t want to put my position in Baltimore at risk, so I’m working the only option available to me.”
Lusk shoved the drawer shut. “And you want me to help you?”
“Actually,” CJ said, following her back down the corridor, “I would be helping you. I can work the same day as you, so the clinic can see twice as many patients, or I can work a different day. Give you a day off. I would be helping you and the village residents.”
Lusk breezed into the exam room, gave the patient’s mother the samples. “Bring her back in two weeks if she isn’t greatly improved.”
The mother thanked Lusk over and over as she ushered her little girl out of the room.
Lusk placed the patient’s chart on the growing stack on the table in the corridor. “I’ve a good mind to say no,” Lusk warned, her gaze narrow with suspicion. “But I could use the help. There’s not enough time in the day to see everyone who needs medical attention. And I could get my preceptor to rush the paperwork through . . . if I was convinced of your sincerity.”
CJ knew where this was going. “This isn’t about the past, Juanita. This is about doing the right thing. I have to see this through. You don’t have to worry about me stepping on your toes. You’ll be the one in charge. I’m not planning to usurp your authority.”
The stare-off lasted another ten or twelve seconds. “You’re on.” She allowed CJ to see in her eyes just how serious she was. �
�But you fuck with me and you’re out. Do we understand each other?”
“Absolutely.”
Lusk grabbed the chart at the next exam room. “In fact, you can start right now. You’ll find what you need in my office.” She pushed her lips into a fake smile. “One good deed deserves another, right?” Lusk entered the exam room. “Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. What seems to be the problem?”
CJ located the office, left her bag, and donned a stethoscope. Getting on Lusk’s good side wasn’t a bad idea. Who knew? Maybe the woman would remember something Shelley had said that would make a difference.
Meanwhile, CJ would be doing what she loved most: taking care of people.
5:30 PM
CJ dropped the final chart on the mountain of others.
The last patient was out the door.
She stretched her back, rotated her neck.
“This is what I do every day,” Lusk said as she placed her final chart on top of CJ’s. “Not that different from what you do.”
The hint of a smile tilted one corner of CJ’s mouth. Maybe they would get along after all. “Just a little less blood.” Images from Saturday night . . . the kid . . . invaded her thoughts. A lot less blood.
Lusk glanced at the mountain of charts. “Thanks, Patterson.” She gestured to the pile. “I’ll be here for a while.”
“About the village clinic—”
“Tomorrow too soon for you?” Lusk grabbed an armful of charts. “Wednesdays would be a good day off for me. I’ll make sure the paperwork gets done ASAP.”
“Tomorrow’s great.” The sooner the better for CJ’s purposes.
Lusk jerked her head toward her office. “I’ll give you my keys. I’ll get duplicates made by Friday.”
Anticipation chased away CJ’s exhaustion. “That works.”
The keys were on a chain with several others. Juanita unhooked and handed three to CJ, stating which door each unlocked as she did. “I’ve annotated as many of the charts as possible as to the patients who shouldn’t be given barbiturates, opiate derivatives, stuff like that.” She gave CJ a knowing look. “You’re new; they’ll try to play on your sympathy.”
“I’ll stick with your notes.” CJ backed toward the double doors. “Just so you know, Baltimore hasn’t made me soft. I’m tougher than you think.”
“Go on. I’ll lock the door after you’re gone.” Lusk shook her head and shuffled into her office.
The receptionist had left already. The waiting room looked like a tornado had come through. The few magazines provided for the patients’ entertainment were scattered about, along with coffee cups, soda cans, and various other discarded food wrappers and containers.
CJ pushed through the entrance and took a deep breath. As tired as she should feel, she didn’t. She felt exhilarated. She’d taken the first step toward putting her strategy into action.
“CJ Patterson, is that really you?”
She turned to face the man who’d called out to her. Dark hair . . . tall. Blue eyes.
A mixture of anticipation and irritation detonated in little consecutive bursts. Carter Cost.
Dr. Carter Cost.
The rich, gets-whatever-he-wants, womanizing shit.
Irritation won the battle.
“Carter.” Her tone sounded as icy as she’d intended it.
He noticed. “It’s been a long time.”
Not long enough. “It has. Well. I was on my way—”
Cost glanced at the clinic, then at her. “I was on my way in there.” He hitched a thumb toward the clinic. “I’m the preceptor here and for the clinic in the mill village. When Juanita called around noon and asked me to push through an authorization for you, I thought she was kidding me.”
CJ suddenly felt very sorry for Lusk. Not only had she missed out on completing the requirements to have an MD after her name, which she obviously deserved, but she had to work under the oversight of this guy. No wonder she had such a foul disposition.
Crap. That meant CJ would be stuck dealing with him.
“How long will you be in town?”
CJ snapped back to attention. “A few weeks, probably. My sister—”
“Oh, God.” Sympathy flashed in those big eyes, which at one time had tugged on her heartstrings. “I’m sorry. Shelley . . .” He shook his head. “It’s just terrible.”
“It is, terrible. Yes.” CJ really did not want to do this with him.
“Look.” He wrapped those long fingers around her forearm, squeezed gently. “Let me sign off on a couple things in here and we’ll have dinner.”
No was on the tip of her tongue.
“You can’t say no,” he insisted with that charming smile that had probably broken many a heart. “I won’t have it. That’s an order. Give me five minutes.”
Before she could argue, he disappeared into the clinic.
She supposed he was why Lusk hadn’t bothered locking the door directly behind CJ. She was expecting Cost.
Maybe CJ had judged too quickly, feeling sorry for Lusk. She might still be carrying a torch for her old flame.
She had nothing to worry about where CJ was concerned.
She wasn’t about to try the same poison twice.
But she would have dinner with him. As preceptor of the village clinic, he would have some knowledge of the patients and the neighborhood. Not to mention he could ensure she was approved for working at the clinic as long as necessary.
Follow all leads—that was going to be her motto.
Someone somewhere knew something.
She had to find that someone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Huntsville Public Library
7:20 PM
Edward set his book aside and observed the soiree in the lobby below. A local artist had created another masterpiece. This one he’d donated to the library. The proceeds of a silent auction would benefit literacy. The artist stood in the center of it all, eating up the compliments and puffing with pride for his latest masterpiece.
How grand.
In Edward’s opinion, the true treasures in this building were the books. He picked up his book to resume his reading.
This was where he felt most at home.
Always had.
The world had become obsessed with television and the Internet, when books had been in front of them all along. Any subject could be researched in depth right here in the library. Any skill could be learned. All that was required were patience and persistence.
Quite frankly, losing oneself in a well-crafted story was so very easy.
But lately, he’d found losing himself, even in the best story, to be impossible. His concern for CJ would not allow true escape of any measure. Particularly after last evening’s disturbing announcement.
Even in death, Shelley had wielded one last injustice upon her sister.
CJ, poor, poor CJ, was left to grieve and struggle with the results.
Edward had scarcely slept last night. Today he’d tried to distract himself, but nothing he attempted had relieved the ache deep in his soul. Hardly twenty-four hours after her return, CJ had allowed the past to draw her back in. Did she not realize that it would swallow her up? Destroy her future?
He simply did not understand the compulsion. Shelley was dead. Risking her own future would not change that sad fate. CJ should return to Baltimore and focus on that future. There was nothing more she could do here. This was assuredly that maddening Detective Braddock’s doing. He would attempt to use CJ, as he’d used Shelley, for his own purposes. Edward had worked so diligently to keep CJ away from the path her sister had chosen. Now she seemed determined to walk that path, even if her motives were noble.
Edward desperately needed a plan of immediate action. CJ believed the man responsible for her sister’s murder was one Ricky Banks, an associate of Shelley’s. Quite an unsavory human being. Banks’s personal security was a rather large, quite nasty dog. He used that animal to inspire fear in those he employed. Edward used the word employ for lack of
a more fitting term. Drugs, prostitution, all manner of crime against others filled the disgusting man’s resume. That he also possessed a penchant for abusing women further disturbed Edward.
If Braddock were worth his salt, this ghastly business would have been settled by this point. Unfortunately, his attempts had proved utterly inadequate.
Now Edward was forced to watch CJ punish herself as this fiasco of an investigation played out. In due time, surely, the matter would be closed.
Unfortunately, time was often the bane of one’s existence. There was either far too much or not nearly enough. At its core, one’s life was all about timing.
Time worked against CJ in this tragedy. Her quest to find justice for her sister could keep her here and perhaps even distract her permanently from the future she deserved.
Somberness settled over Edward once more. He did not want her to throw away the unparalleled opportunity before her. Not when she was so very close. That choice could change everything. Could jeopardize all he’d worked so hard to accomplish.
Guilt plagued him for doubting her at all. CJ had never let him down before. Since she was a little girl, her insights and grasp of reality had been astonishing when one measured them against her life experiences. But this was a monumental obstacle even for one so brilliant and courageous.
CJ would need him more than ever now.
Coming here this evening to soothe his soul was like coming full circle. His journey with CJ had begun here.
A smile tugged at his lips. He remembered well the first time he’d noticed her at the library. Thirteen years old and fearless when it came to protecting her younger sister. Long, silky blond hair hanging down her back. Tattered dungarees and T-shirt. The equally shabby sandals she’d worn had scarcely met the criterion of “shoes required.”
As usual, Shelley had been giving her sister difficulty. She wanted to go to the park and play, while CJ, like Edward, wanted to lose herself in the aisles and aisles of books at the public library.
