Family in the Crosshairs Read online

  Laurie concentrated on her task as she made a few more notes. “He’s not answering calls, but obviously, I’ll stop by Dr. Grayson’s house as a starting point. We don’t have any evidence other than Tegan’s word that he’s left town and has confirmed that he doesn’t intend to return. I will need to look into Joy’s claim that Dr. Grayson was providing her with unnecessary treatment. Depending on my findings, I may extend my scrutiny to other patients. With Dr. Grayson effectively missing, you are now the only doctor at the Main Street Clinic, Leon. I’m relying on your cooperation in this matter.”

  He nodded. “You have it. Of course.”

  She turned to Flora. “While this issue with Dr. Grayson seems to have opened up one line of inquiry, I can’t ignore the way you have been targeted since your arrival in Stillwater, Dr. Monroe. Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you?”

  An image flashed into Flora’s mind. The bland courtroom. The solemn expression on the judge’s face as he said the words. Life sentence. The venom in the eyes of Danny’s killer as he turned to look at Flora. The screams and curses from him and his girlfriend as the prisoner was led away to the cells.

  “Only one, but I don’t know why she would surface again now when I haven’t heard from her for years.” Her hands twisted nervously as she spoke, and she clasped them together, forcing herself to remain calm. “My husband, Danny, was a police officer with the Denver PD. He was murdered by a drug dealer he had been tracking for some time. When the killer was sentenced, his girlfriend stood up in the courtroom and threatened me. She said Danny had ruined her life and she would do the same to me. Her name was Luella French. She went missing after that and I never heard from her again.”

  Just talking about it brought it all back and she drew in a long breath, forcing the pictures out of her head, willing the good memories to take their place. Danny, her high school sweetheart. His big grin and his loud laugh. The day she told him about her pregnancy. Their light-hearted squabble about whether, if it was a boy, it would be Francis after his father, or Steven after hers. He never knew it was twins...

  Flora was aware of Leon’s eyes on her and she turned her head slightly to look from him. Although he didn’t smile, there was a slight softening in his expression that told her he knew what she was feeling. And...how? He was a stranger, yet he could look at her that way and ease some of her hurt. She didn’t know whether to be glad or start running as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

  Since Laurie was talking, she didn’t have time to do either. “I’ll have her checked out. We’ll look as well at other angles such as whether Joy had any enemies.”

  “You’re talking about Stillwater’s most popular resident,” Leon reminded her.

  “Everyone is hiding something,” Laurie said. “It’s my job to find out who has a secret so big Joy Valeski had to die for it.”

  The meeting ended soon after that and Leon accompanied Flora as she walked down the stairs. “How’s Stevie?”

  She was glad for the normality of the question. “Although his arm is fine, getting him back to daycare wasn’t easy. He’s normally my little tough guy, but the incident seems to have bothered him and he got quite tearful when I took him back. That affected Frankie as well, of course, so it wasn’t a happy return to Daisy’s center.”

  “Not what you needed with everything else that’s going on.” He held the door open for her and they stepped out into the sunlight.

  “They come first. Always. My goodness—” She caught a glimpse of his muscled forearm and stared at it in shock. “I’m sorry, but those scratches look bad.”

  “Ah.” He rubbed his arm with a reminiscent grin. “I got in the way of one of Tiny and Bungee’s disagreements.”

  She stopped by her car. “You took Joy’s cat home with you?”

  “He had nowhere else to go.”

  “That was a nice thing to do.” She brushed her fingertips against his uninjured arm as she spoke, unable to resist the temptation to touch him. The brief contact reverberated through her. She lifted her gaze to Leon’s face and saw an answering darkening in his eyes.

  I want more than a light touch. A delicious shiver tracked its way down her spine at the thought. So much for keeping her distance.

  “It’s a habit I need to get out of.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth upward. “Remind me to tell you sometime how I hooked up with Tiny.”

  Flora laughed, nodding at the marks on his arms. “If Bungee wasn’t vicious, I’d consider offering to take him off your hands. A pet would be just the thing to help the boys settle in.”

  “Bungee’s okay. He just hates dogs. And Tiny’s reaction to Bungee has been the same as it was when he first saw you.”

  Flora raised her brows in a question. “He knocks him over and tries to suffocate him?”

  Leon nodded. “Pretty much. Tiny loves everyone. He thinks Bungee feels the same way about him. All Tiny wants to do is kiss him, which provokes the cat into a state of hissing fury within seconds.”

  “My sympathies are all with Bungee,” Flora said.

  “The house has been like a war zone since Bungee moved in.” When she laughed, he shook his head. “Seriously. It’s like living in a cartoon.”

  “I’m not promising anything, but why don’t I bring the boys over to meet Bungee this evening and we’ll take it from there?”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’d invite you to dinner, but there’s just one problem.” He appeared so different when the conversation was light-hearted. That intensity in his eyes lifted and it was as if, for a few brief moments, he forgot to be sad.

  “You mean we would have to stop your dog from smothering my boys between courses?”

  He choked back a laugh. “Between us we should be able to protect them from any excessive outbursts of affection. No, I can’t invite you to dinner because I’m a horrible cook.”

  There was a hesitant invitation in those words. He was batting the initiative over to her. Flora took a moment to think about it. Common sense told her getting in any deeper would be a mistake. She looked into Leon’s eyes and decided common sense was overrated. There was no question of getting in deeper. It was only dinner, for heaven’s sake, and they would be chaperoned by two boys, a cat, and a Tiny.

  “I, on the other hand, receive high praise for my ’getti and meatballs from two notable connoisseurs.”

  His smile told her that was the answer he had been hoping for. “You supply the food and I’ll provide the drinks. Non-alcoholic, of course. It’s a...” He paused, and she knew he was searching for the right word. Date? Too much and too soon. For both of them. “Deal.”

  She watched him walk away toward his own car, a tall, broad-shouldered figure. The square of grass in front of the city hall was bordered by bright flower beds and the scent wafted toward her on the late-morning breeze. Sunlight filtered through the poplar trees and dappled the sidewalk. It was a lovely morning in a beautiful town and she felt the same stirring of excitement she had experienced when she first came to Stillwater.

  This was her fresh start, the place where she could put bad memories behind her and allow her boys to grow and thrive. Even so, her excitement had been tarnished right from the start by the over-the-top article in the Stillwater Sentinel determined to save Stillwater from outdated medical practices. Flora had contacted the newspaper’s editor and complained about the tone of the report. She had been horrified at the criticism of local medics that was included in that article and the implication that she was behind it.

  His response had been a half-hearted apology. The reporter had been overenthusiastic, he had explained. These days it was hard to get decent staff. The guy who wrote that article had left town one day without even bothering to hand in his resignation.

  Despite the bad experiences, she had a job and a home here, a new life to carve out. She told herself her feelings about this place hadn’t deepened when she met Leon. How could they? Flora had no idea what he was carrying inside all that emotional baggage, and she wasn’t equipped to help him unpack.

  I’m carrying too many bags of my own. And she had her boys to think of, as well as the hundred and one other things that had come hurtling her way since she made this move.

  Sighing, she turned to open her car door, only noticing at the last minute the deep gouges in the paintwork all along the driver’s side.

  * * *

  It wouldn’t exactly be easy to concentrate on her afternoon appointments, but Flora knew she would have to force herself to focus away from the most recent act of vandalism. Life hadn’t been easy since Danny’s death. Alone, pregnant, and grief-stricken, then coping with newborn twins...it would have been easy to cave under the pressure. But she’d held it together, returning to work part-time when the twins were six months old and full-time just before their first birthday.

  It was her approach to life. Sleeves up. Head down. Plow on.

  And maybe it had been her way of trying to ignore the gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be. She’d learned the hard way that grief wouldn’t be pushed aside. Her get-on-with-it attitude had only delayed the process. Out of nowhere, it had sucker punched her, surfacing one day as an intense pain, accompanied by an irrational fear for the safety of her boys.

  She’d tried to ride it out. Drawing on her medical training, she gave herself the same advice she’d have given one of her patients. Grief is a cycle. It has to run its course. Your fears are part of the process. It didn’t matter what she told herself. The idea of getting out of the city where Danny had died became fixed in her mind. She had started to think small town. Safe town.

  Although Flora had family in the Denver area, her parents were dead. Her father had died when she was just out of her teens, and her mother had succumbed to a brief, violent illness a few years ago. Danny had had no close family, so it wasn’t as if she would be taking the boys away from their grandparents by moving.

  Those thoughts had been barely formed when she’d seen the advertisement for the position in Stillwater. Now, she parked her car near the Ryerson Center and got out. As she gazed up at the beautiful modern structure that had been designed to fit into its surroundings on the edge of the Ryerson River, doubt hit her for the first time.

  Safe town? Are you sure about that?

  “Oh, my goodness. What happened to your car?” A woman had approached the building on foot from the river path.

  Although recent events told her she should be cautious, this woman’s sympathetic expression drew a slight smile from Flora in response. “I guess it lost a fight with someone’s keys.”

  She tried to keep her voice light, but it didn’t quite work. From the measuring glance the other woman gave her, Flora was fairly sure she’d given away some of her hurt and frustration.

  “I’m just on my way inside to register as a new patient. I’m new in town, and my own car had an argument with the gatepost the first day I arrived. I found a guy in town who did a great job of fixing it. I could give you his number.”

  Was it wrong to want to hug a stranger? Flora settled for a genuine smile this time. “That would be wonderful. I’m new in town myself and I was dreading that whole performance of trying to find someone reliable to do a paint job.” They walked up the steps together. “I’m Flora Monroe, by the way.”

  “Then you’re the doctor I’m here to see. I’ve heard a lot about you already.” The woman at her side caught sight of Flora’s expression and halted in her tracks. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

  Flora shook her head, annoyed that, even for that split second, she’d let the whisperers get to her. “No.” She held open the glass door and let her companion pass through ahead of her. “Welcome to the Ryerson Center.”

  The lobby of the center had a domed roof that caught the sunlight and bounced its rays off a floor-to-ceiling colored glass model of a strand of DNA. The effect was both beautiful and dramatic.

  The new patient gazed around her with wide eyes. “Wow.”

  “I think that’s the effect the designer was hoping for.” Flora stepped behind the reception desk. “Now, let me take some details.”

  “I’m Eve Sloane and I don’t mean to sound critical, but when you’ve invested in a lobby this eye-catching wouldn’t it be wise to also employ a receptionist? First impressions are about more than aesthetics.”

  Flora sighed. “Tell me about it. Unfortunately, our receptionist quit on the day the center opened. We’re advertising the post next week. In the meantime, everyone lends a hand with the front-desk duties.”

  “I might be able to...um...help you out with that.”

  Flora looked up sharply from the computer screen. “I’m going to need you to tell me more.”

  “Well, I’ve never worked in a medical center, but I have been employed in a number of hotels and offices in administration. I could step in until you get someone permanent.”

  While it sounded like a dream offer, there was a lot to think about. Recent events had made Flora wary. Three years was a long time and, while this woman didn’t look like Luella French, she had learned to be vigilant. Luella could have ditched the spiky blue hairstyle and done something about the tattoos since the last time Flora had seen her. She might even have lost about fifty pounds in weight, but Flora didn’t think she could have grown six inches.

  Flora’s personal situation wasn’t the only reason to approach this stranger’s offer with caution, however. Medical center employees had access to patients’ private information. Even if Flora had the authority to employ a new receptionist then and there, she wouldn’t have done so without putting some checks in place.

  “Look, I can see the idea is about as popular as a porcupine on a waterbed—”

  “No.” Flora couldn’t help laughing at the image. “But I’m going to need references, then I’ll have to talk to the center’s trustees.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, why don’t I give you my details and then we can take it from there?” The woman held out her hand with a smile. “You’ve got my name.”

  “Well, Eve Sloane, why don’t we start with a little role-play?” Flora frowned at the blank computer screen as she spoke. “You be the receptionist and I’ll be the new patient. Where would you start?”

  “Maybe by doing this?” Eve leaned across the desk and turned the power switch on.

  “Congratulations. You just passed the first test.” Flora huffed out a frustrated sigh. “My brain seems to be working against me right now. As you can see, your services are definitely required.”

  “I can start whenever you need me.” There was something behind those words. It wasn’t quite desperation, but Flora sensed Eve had a story to tell.

  Don’t we all?

  “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can, but it won’t be today.”

  The words burst out, proving a new truth Flora hadn’t realized until that minute. It could be today, but that would mean canceling dinner so she could talk to the trustees about this new appointment. She needed a new receptionist...but she wanted to spend time with Leon more.

  Chapter 5

  An hour later, the mild optimism generated by Flora’s meeting with Eve was bursting like a bubble on a pin. Eve’s own appointment was to treat a minor, long-standing ailment. Then, at first sight, there was nothing about Lilith Bronson’s sweet, pleasant face to cause any disquiet. The acid reflux that had been bothering the patient after Eve was easily solved with a recommendation for an over-the-counter antacid. It was the last question that did it.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

  Flora always thought of that question as the “real reason.” Most times, her patients walked through the door with a minor ailment. Sore throat. Bad cough. Nasty rash. Can’t sleep. They went through the routine of dealing with those problems. Then she asked that question and—not always, but often—the “real reason” surfaced. Unexplained lump. No sex drive. Depression.

  She could tell straight away that Lilith had a “real reason.”

  “I don’t know where to start.” Lilith’s hands twisted together in her lap.

  “Mrs. Bronson, there is nothing you could tell me that I won’t have heard before.” While she supposed it wasn’t strictly true, it was the message Flora liked to give, particularly to her older female patients.

  It worked like a charm on Lilith, who sat up straighter in her chair, determination giving her features a previously unsuspected strength. “You think so?” Even though she had clearly been gearing up to this moment, her voice shook. “What if I tell you about a doctor who deliberately misdiagnosed me so he could make a profit from my treatment? Is that something you’ve heard before?”

  Well, yes. Actually, it’s something I’ve heard very recently.

  Taken by surprise, Flora remained silent for a moment. Although she kept her eyes on the computer monitor in front of her, she didn’t need to check the details of Lilith’s medical history. With a feeling of déjà vu and a sinking heart, she reviewed what she knew. Lilith was a widow in her mid-sixties. Before making the move to the Ryerson Center, she had been a patient at the Main Street Clinic. Where she’d been treated by Dr. Alan Grayson.

  She drew a steadying breath. Lilith had come to her for help. Even though most of the facts were right there on the screen, she couldn’t betray to the woman sitting beside her desk that this story sounded horribly familiar.

  “I’m going to make some notes about what you tell me,” she explained as she drew a pad and pen toward her. “But this will be unlike our other conversations. When you talk to me about your medical conditions, everything you say is confidential. If you reveal something now that leads me to believe a crime has been committed, I will not be able to keep that information to myself and I may have to inform the police.”