Smolder (11 page)

He looked ill.

My stomach ached. “I seem to recall being told once that if you harm a child, the prison population won't let you live to see your trial.”

“Exactly. They may be criminals to society, but most of them aren't violent, and they’re parents. Kids are off limits.” Owen excused himself and went back inside.

“Now, what excuse am I going to make up so I can stay like this?”

Dmitri kissed the top of my head.

I leaned back and looked up at him. He bent down and kissed me. This time, the kiss was urgent, tough, and his tongue darted into my mouth immediately. I held him closer, and returned the kiss matching his need with my own. I moved my hands moved up his back and gripped his shoulders, and his moved to my lower back and pulled in.

“Excuse me, Doctor.” One of the unit nurses had come outside.

“Yes?” Dmitri responded.

“Dr. Quinn,” the nurse clarified.

“Yes, ma'am,” I answered.

“The patient survived his breathing trauma and asked for you again. Mata is with him now,” she explained and went back inside.

“We’re still at work, Dmitri.” I moved away from him.

“I love it when you say my name.” He patted me on my ass and followed me inside.

I saw Owen leave the man's room as I walked into the unit. He turned and waved, heading in the other direction. The patient looked ten years older than he had an hour ago.

“Yes, sir. You asked to see me again?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded. “You are a nice person. Would you talk to my wife when she gets here later? She’s a little dramatic, and I'm not sure I'm up to calming her down today.”

“I'd be happy to.” I squeezed his hand and left.

The nurse had my office number and promised to call me as soon as the wife showed up. It was lunchtime, and I headed to the lounge. Today's buffet was something with chicken, something with beef, veggies, soup, and cookies. I’d found out a serial killer would never be freed, so I grabbed a handful of cookies, two bottles of water, and went to my office.

I suspected Lee would have heard something, and when I came in, she had a television on. I handed her a bottle of water and half of the cookies.

The chief of police's press conference was short—The Carver was behind bars, and a full investigation into every unsolved murder in Chatham County, and the surrounding areas, including Hilton Head and Beaufort, South Carolina, would be conducted immediately. The press had their usual questions about how he was arrested and I was grateful my name never came up. Publicity in my business was not a good thing. I preferred to work without a spotlight.

“Cheers!” We crashed our water bottles together and ate the cookies.

I sent a text message to Josh, who responded he'd seen the press conference and recorded it in case his girlfriend didn't see it. If I was her, I would have raised hell that he wanted to stay in town with a serial killer after his sister. Owen stepped around the corner.

“Can I see you?” he asked.

“Of course. Lee, we'll be in my office. I know I still have those other two people to see this afternoon. If the attending calls and asks, tell him I'll make sure they are seen before I go home tonight.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she answered and picked up the phone.

“She'll call ahead to avoid them calling her," Owen explained as we sat in my office. “Her reputation is well known.”

I liked Lee. It made me feel awkward that the only woman I wanted to be friends with worked for me. But sometimes, it was easier than trying to explain to anyone else the kind of work I did.

“You needed to see me?” I asked, curious about his reason for being here.

“The other day, last week, I was rude to you. I'm sorry.” He shifted in his seat. “I wanted to ask you out for Friday, and Dr. K beat me to it. I'm a little competitive.”

I had noticed that.

“Well, that was it." He got up and left before I could say anything.

I gathered the remaining charts and headed back out. Lee stopped me at her desk.

“That was quick,” she said.

“He apologized for letting jealousy make him testy last week,” I explained, and then headed out to see the other two patients.

The afternoon was uneventful, with the other patients’ complaints being depression and anxiety. I spoke with the physicians recommending they be started on the medications they’d take at home.

Work wrapped up by three p.m., and with all of the preceding chaos, I declared it a survival afternoon, and we closed up the office early. On the way to my car, I texted Josh to see if we needed anything. He was in a celebratory mood as well and sent me back a list of fresh veggies to pick up on the way.

Once back home, I took a long, relaxing shower while Josh made dinner. More relaxed than I'd been since I moved here, I took my time, and stepped out of the tub to a steam-filled bathroom. I had forgotten to turn the fan on, again.

I turned the fan on, and waved a towel around so I didn't trip over anything. It was nice to relax and enjoy the evening. We cooked out on the grill. My brother stared at the marsh as if willing the sea otters to come back and play again. It was a quiet Monday night, and I went to bed early.

Chapter Ten

An hour before my alarm went off, I lay awake staring at the ceiling.

“Crap. I'm not getting back to sleep now.” I got up and put on my bathing suit. “Might as well do a few laps.”

The water was cool, and light sparkled off the small waves from the breeze. I'd done ten laps when a hand popped into the water just before I did a flip turn. I stopped looking up to see Josh smiling at me with a cup of fresh-brewed coffee.

“You want?” he asked.

I got out, and took the cup from him. “Yes, please.”

“Do you really think this is over?” he asked.

My reflex answer was no, but I didn't want to tell him that. I stayed silent.

“I thought so,” he said. “You need to get ready and get to work. I've got this place covered. Owen showed me how to monitor the cameras from my computer. Even if someone does come by, I'll know they are here. I put your knives in the usual spots; bed, dresser, fireplace, and the front table lamp.”

One of my friends in graduate school studied karate and was an excellent knife thrower. She took me to her class, and I loved it. I had a yellow belt in karate and could hit a bull’s eye with a throwing knife from twenty yards. After a teen prank a few years ago, when a couple of kids broke into the house next door at night, I hid them throughout the house. I even had three hidden in the car.

The office smelled wonderful when I walked in. Hot muffins sat in the kitchenette with a thank-you note from the chief of police. “We all owe you our thanks.”

“That was nice of him,” Lee said behind me.

“Yes, it was. And unnecessary since he kept my name secret during his press conference.” I took a banana nut muffin, smothered it in butter, and got a cup of coffee. “I'm all set. How does today's schedule look?”

“Eat up, you will need your strength. The wife of the inmate you saw yesterday showed up at three in the morning and had a royal meltdown. The nurses told her she needed to calm down before she could see her husband. She screamed she would calm down after she saw him. They gave up and let her in to see him. He was asleep and had kicked his sheet off. All of his wounds were visible, and she fainted. Right there on the floor. Just passed out. They put a recliner in the room and sat her in it.”

“They didn't wake her up?” I asked with a smile.

She laughed. “No, they were so grateful she was quiet they checked her vitals and left her there. They covered him back up, though.”

“I'll go there first.” I headed to my office and caught up with email and paperwork.

My cell phone rang and the caller ID said it was Josh. “Yes?”

“The chief of police likes you, he really likes you,” he joked.

“And how do you know that?”

“There is a brand new security system being installed right now. You will be able to monitor the cameras from your televisions. Both of them.”

He was excited.

“I'm sure you don't have anything better to do today than sit in the recliner and watch the grass grow beside the house,” I teased. My heart raced. How serious was the threat? Wasn’t the killer in jail? If so, why did I need a state of the art system installed by the local police? As grateful as I felt, there was a warning for the future in the gesture.

“I've already been to Home Depot. There was a cute girl in gardening who said these flowers will attract hummingbirds.”

He'd had a good day, my gullible brother. “Only if hummingbirds fly in Savannah. It's not like they'll change a migratory pattern for you.”

“I also got fencing to block off the side yards so you can only get back here from through the house.” He sounded put out.

“That was a great idea. You did good. I have to go now.” I promised to ooh and ahh over the flowers when I got home.

The patient and his wife were awake and looked happy when I got to the nurses' station in front of his room. He waved at me and said something to her. She got up and came over to me.

“Thank you,” she said, and started crying. “I don't know if I would have survived if Billy had to go back to that awful prison with a killer. It would have killed me. I have four young children, and we wouldn’t know what to do if Billy died. We just would all fall apart.”

He had warned me about melodrama.

“You are welcome, ma'am. I'm glad he's still here for you.” I meant it.

“He gets out in three weeks, so I told him to cough up something every day so he could stay here until they release him. That's not wrong, is it?” she asked.

“I don't know if it's legal. But I wouldn't keep telling people that,” I offered.

She thanked me and went back to her husband's bedside.

“I'll make sure there isn't anything in the room he could choke on,” the nurse said behind me. “God forbid he put something in his mouth to cough up and end up choking to death.” She rolled her eyes.

I chuckled and made my way out of the unit. Lee called my cell phone and told me about two more consults in pediatrics that were instigated by family members arguing with the doctors and overcrowding the room.

I stopped by the first room and explained this was a hospital and no matter how many people wanted to show up, the care would get worse if the nurses and doctors couldn't find the patient amongst the crowd in the room. One family ordered so much food from the cafeteria it looked like a buffet.

I didn't mind going into a room and being the bad guy. I could leave the floor while the medical team couldn't. So I walked in with a security guard, wrote “Two visitor limit” on the whiteboard, and stood my ground while the extended family was escorted from the room. They did ask for boxes to take the food and were not happy when I reminded them this wasn’t a restaurant.

It took twenty minutes for the drama to ease up. The patient was a small teen, and her sister and mother were left with her. She thanked me and gave me a hug when they all left. Then, I pulled the mother and sister out of the room and reminded them that healing was exhausting and company made it worse. So the fewer people in her room, the quicker they could get her home. That seemed to work.

One of the nurses commented as I wrote my notes in the chart.

“That girl was smothered with love.”

“Room to breathe is always a good thing,” I said.

The other family simply wanted answers the doctors didn't have. As frustrated as the family became, the results from the tests wouldn't change to fit their desires. I asked one of the residents to come with me, and he showed the family the chart with the test results in the hallway.

The office was empty when I got back and I cleaned out my inboxes before headed home. Josh wasn't in the house, so I changed into yoga pants and a tank top. All of the excitement had interrupted my normal routine. I needed to exercise. The blinds to the backyard were closed in the kitchen, but he'd left the security monitors up on the television. There were four of them, one for each side of the house.

The backdoor opened, and Josh came in. “I have your throwing targets set up.”

“I love you.”

Outside, he had a ten-foot-by-thirty-foot section of the yard marked off with gardening fence. At the far end, a stand held three half-inch particle boards nailed together with a bull’s eye painted on the front.

On the table lay a brand new throwing knife set. Actually, two sets of Jack the Ripper throwing knives. All of them were six inches long and made of stainless steel.

My first two throws were off the mark.

“You haven't practiced in a while,” Josh noted.

“I've been a little busy.”

He laughed. “Yeah, we could definitely say that.”

The next three hit the middle target, but not dead center.

“Did you call your girlfriend and tell her the guy's in solitary?” I asked.

He nodded. “She’s still worried, and wanted to make sure I don't let my guard down. I told her we were going to start our self-defense exercises again, and she felt a little better.”

I threw the last knife, and it hit dead center.

“Bull’s eye. I'm not as rusty as I thought.” I stretched my arms over my head as I walked to retrieve the knives.

There was a question on Josh's mind; I could see it in his face. “Just ask it.”

“Would you be offended if I moved here?”

He was serious.

“Of course not.” I realized he’d asked about himself and not the girlfriend. “She coming with you?”

His shrug said a lot. He’d tell me when he was ready. “She may move here, but I think the threat to you, and my stubborn insistence on staying here, made her a little nervous.”

“You can't blame her.” I admitted.

I threw for the next hour while Josh made dinner. I felt guilty that my brother found a wonderful woman who was now leaving him because of me. I hoped Josh would find someone here who didn't run every time something strange happened in my job. The poor man would be lonely and exhausted from all of the coming and going.

Dinner was grilled steak, baked potatoes, and salad. I ate better when Josh was around. He was the best housewife. He cooked, cleaned, gardened, and had fashion sense.

“So, Dmitri?” he asked as we sat with coffee.

“Yes.” I had been waiting for this. “Raised in Russia until the Soviet Union fell, moved to Italy by his parents, has a sister, met and married an Italian woman. Now divorced, with ex-wife and two teens in Atlanta.”

“Seems like a nice guy.”

“He is. I like him.”

“Savannah definitely has romance going for it.” He smiled.

“The lady cop would like to romance you.” I teased and laughed when his color deepened. “Have you already been flirting with her?”

“No!” he answered. “Not at all. I love my girlfriend, but if she doesn't want me, then a lady cop might.”

“Besides, she already loves your crotch,” I said.

He balled up his napkin and threw it at me.

“Tell me I'm wrong. Did she even look at your face?” I teased.

He was flushed red now. “Yes she did. I know she did. At least, I think she did.”

We laughed together. All of the recent tension disappeared as we laughed.

“Did you look at her face?” I said through tears.

“Yes, yes I did. A couple of times.” And then he snorted.

I laughed so hard my sides hurt, and I slipped sideways in the chair. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I looked at the person who had been my best friend since the day I was born. He carried me home from the hospital and told the neighborhood kids if they made me cry he would beat them up.

We cleaned up the kitchen and sat in front of the television. Seeing the house from all four sides at once was a nice touch. Now that the side yards were both fenced, it may not be as necessary, but I was glad to have this setup just in case. I'd have to send the chief a thank-you card tomorrow.

The local news was filled with stories about The Carver. We watched in stunned silence while family after family thanked the police, God, and anyone else they thought helped catch him. Closure was a powerful thing, and these people had waited too long. It was tough to watch, but we couldn't turn it off. Then Owen was interviewed, and thanked for his efforts. Apparently, the chief attributed the arrest to Owen's talk with the cellmate at the hospital.

“He stole your thunder,” Josh said.

“He can have it. Serial killers create copycats, and the person responsible for catching the original can end up as a part of the game. He didn't steal my thunder and likely stepped in front of me.”

I was grateful.

The news ended, and I headed off to bed. The workout had loosened my muscles but left me more tired than it should have. I fell right to sleep.

The next morning, I realized I needed to move my alarm clock across the room. I didn't remember hitting the snooze button, but I had to for it to be this late when I peeled my eyes open. I called Lee, told her I would be there in an hour, and apologized. She told me not to worry about it, and that my schedule was empty this morning, but full all afternoon.

That slowed me down enough to enjoy a long hot shower to ease the soreness from last night's throwing.

There was a note on the kitchen table under a bagel with cream cheese, and a travel mug of coffee.

“Off to look for places to live. I have to decide if I'm going to stay in wrestling or retire with a big match in Atlanta and then figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Love you, Josh.”

The office was quiet when I arrived. Lee was not there. I took the time to find the human resources department. I wanted to know if they had a locking file cabinet for me to store tests. I had to explain that psychologists had to keep testing materials and charts for seven years. They gave me a small filing cabinet and a small scanning wand. They expected me to scan the tests into a secure file location and not keep the paper test forms. I loved the idea and all of the paperwork on my desk was scanned into my system by the time Lee returned.

“You have a new toy," she said. “Can I try it? I would love one of these.”

“I'm on it." I walked back to human resources and told them I would need a shredder for the original documentation and another scanner for the office. The lady who helped me was so proud that I liked her idea she handed two more over and said she would send someone with a shredder.