Author: Mary Burton
Category: Suspense
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/18571_11
She scratched the cat between the ears and smiled as his eyes closed. “We’ll get you patched right up.”
She washed her hands, donned rubber gloves, and laid out instrument trays she’d prepped the day before. The procedures promised to be quick, and if all went according to plan, they’d be done in a few hours.
The cat would be out for two hours, plenty of time to clean and stitch the wound on his side and complete his neutering.
Without thinking, she pushed up her sleeves.
Dr. Nelson adjusted the exam light above the table so he had a better view of the wound. “How’d you get that scar on your arm, Leah?”
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She glanced down at the thin white scar expertly stitched by the plastic surgeon. Quickly, she lowered her sleeve and summoned the smile she always used when questions arose. During the winter, turtlenecks and long sleeves kept the questions at bay, but summer shorts and sleeveless blouses meant lots of questions and plenty of opportunities to perfect her story. “Car accident. Happened when I was in college.”
“Must have been bad.”
“Swerved to miss a dog that had gotten off his leash. Hit a tree.” The lie came tripping easily over her lips. For simplicity’s sake, she always stuck to the same story.
He glanced at her over his half glasses as she handed him a threaded suture needle. “An animal lover to the bone.”
“I suppose so.” Some of the twenty-three scars were short and small, barely scratches, while others had been deep and gaping. The one in her belly had been the most damaging. He’d plunged the knife into her gut, lacerating her intestines.
“Gail tells me you had a date last night.”
Leah glanced up, a bit surprised that they’d been talking about her. “Funny thing about the date. I got a text from the hospital telling me there was an emergency. But when I got here, the place was dark. I started to think maybe the text was stuck in the airways.”
Dr. Nelson shook his head as he sewed. “I didn’t send it. Frankly, I’m not sure if I’d know how. Could Gail have sent it?”
“I called, but she hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. A quirk. Either way, Gail will know.”
“Maybe.” She hadn’t questioned the text too closely at first because it had rescued her from the date and her growing panic attack. But now, she wondered.
The front bell of the clinic rang. Dr. Nelson glanced up at the clock. “Tracker’s uncle. Never misses a visit.”
Alex.
“It’s Sunday.”
“I don’t think the day of the week matters to him. Would you mind getting it while I finish up our little friend here?”
Her nerves tightened. “Sure.”
Leah moved through the hallway toward the main door, and when she pushed open the door to reception saw Alex standing on the other side of the glass door. He wore a dark suit, a white shirt, and a red tie, leaving her to wonder if the man owned any other type of clothing.
She turned the dead bolt and pushed open the door. “I didn’t think you’d come today.”
“I said I would check on Tracker daily.”
“I guess I thought you’d take Sunday off.”
“No. Dr. Nelson said he had surgery today and a visit would be fine.”
She stepped aside and allowed him to enter. Once he was in the lobby, she locked the dead bolt behind him, resisting the urge to click it open and then close it again. “It’s not a problem. Tracker’s sleeping in the back.”
A quick nod, and he followed her down the hallway to the holding room. When he entered, Tracker raised his head and his tail thumped. Alex moved toward the cage and opened it. The dog pushed himself up to standing and leaned into Alex’s hand while he rubbed him behind the ears and told him he’d be going home soon.
“So did you get your emergency squared away last night?”
She leaned on the doorjamb, her arms folded. Here she was relaxed, in her element. “Turns out it was a false alarm. I got here and the place was dark and locked up tight.”
A frown creased his brow as she glanced up. “That happen often?”
“Never. Odd. I’ve got a call in to my assistant to find out if she sent the text. No answer yet.”
Alex dug a chew stick from his coat pocket and handed it to Tracker. The dog immediately took it and retreated to the corner of his crate, where he greedily started chewing. Alex quietly closed the door and locked it.
He faced her, looking in command of the space even as he seemed so out of place there. “Want to try a second date?”
She pushed away from the door, a quick and sharp tension banding her muscles. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
No maybe. No gray. Black and white. “Okay.”
“Later this week.”
“I’m off evenings later in the week.”
His head tipped slightly to the right. “You said you were out of practice dating. I’m trying to figure out why.”
“Busy with school, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it.”
“Really?”
“You’ve pulled yourself off the market. Why?”
Smile. Fold arms. Relax. “I don’t think I know you that well.”
He shrugged. “We’ll fix that on our next date.”
“I’m a hard case, Alex. More work than you probably can devote. You sure you want to bother?”
He crossed the room and stood within inches of her. He didn’t touch her, but the heat and energy of his body zapped around her like an electrical current. “I’m sure. I’ll call you soon, Leah.”
He moved past her in a rush of determined energy. The front door opened and she followed. He strode across the parking lot toward a black SUV as she reached for the lock and clicked it closed. Nervous energy buzzed, and she waited for him to drive off before she clicked the lock open. Closed. Open and finally, well and truly, closed.
Detective Deidre Jones arrived at the Nashville Police Department offices just after four. She hadn’t wanted to come in today, but she had to take care of business.
As she walked up to the glass-front door and caught her reflection, she paused and studied her features. Some might consider what she’d done wrong, but if they understood that survival and love had prompted her actions, they’d understand. She’d had two choices, both bad, and she’d sacked up and made a decision. Good, bad, or indifferent, she was in this game until the end. Walk a mile in her shoes and then you could judge.
She made her way to the evidence room and smiled at the office
r on duty. She pulled her badge from her jacket and flipped it open. “Detective Deidre Jones.”
The young officer had a fresh-faced look that Deidre knew she’d once had. When she’d first become a cop, it had all been about catching bad guys. She’d wanted to rid the world of evil, like she was fucking Wonder Woman. The world was black and white. Good versus evil. But in a flash, the black and white had blurred. She still caught bad guys. Still considered herself one of the good ones. But she understood now that life just wasn’t as clear-cut as it once had been.
What she’d done bothered her, given her some sleepless nights. But what upset her as much as the dirty deed was that she’d confessed her secret in a moment of weakness to her soon-to-be ex-husband. At one time they’d been so close. They’d met almost four years earlier right after she’d taken the detective job with Nashville Vice. Tyler Radcliff had been working as a deputy in a small town near Nashville, and they’d met at some cop fund-raiser. It had all been wine and roses.
Loving Tyler had been so easy and perfect in those early days of their marriage. His strength had made her feel protected in a world that felt as if it were crumbling. Complete trust had gone hand in hand with love. That trust, combined with a little too much Jim Beam, had coaxed the secret loose.
When their marriage really soured she couldn’t exactly say. But the demands of her job took a toll. He certainly blamed the growing distance on her job. How many times had he said that she loved the work more than him? At first, she’d denied the accusations. Of course she loved him more. But each time he correctly pointed to yet another night he’d sat waiting for her at a restaurant or bar while she’d been finishing up a stakeout or meeting with the medical examiner.
As the weeks, months, and accusations accumulated, she’d wondered if he didn’t see a truth she denied. She did love her job. Distance grew between them, even as her case-closure rate soared. Nothing, including great sex, revved her up more than catching a piece of scum like Ray Murphy.
Tyler had grown increasingly angry, and several times last fall, when she’d dragged in the back door dog-ass tired, he’d gotten in her face and accused her of sleeping around. She hadn’t been screwing around. She’d been working, and it hurt like hell to realize he didn’t trust her. Finally, one night after a bad fight, she’d stopped crying and gotten pissed. Five months ago, she’d packed up a suitcase full of clothes and moved out.