A lock of hair sifted across his brow when he shook his head. The dimples in his right cheek and cleft chin were sexy as hell and added another dimension to his charisma. She admired the view as he climbed the steps.
Driving him crazy is gonna be a short and fun ride. “Bathroom’s the second door on the right.”
The phone rang again as she started to dial. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Hi, Dr. Tallin. This is Dr. Weller, one of the radiologists at Portland Memorial. I’m sorry no one contacted you immediately, but we need you to come in for additional testing. Your baseline mammogram revealed some shadows warranting further study.”
“What?” Her thoughts warped back to her mom’s breast biopsy, then lumpectomy, then chemo. Flashbacks of her dad trying to comfort his wife filled the green screen of her mind.
Meanwhile, the concerned voice droned in her ear.
“Is that time acceptable?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What time?” The ominous diagnosis always loomed in the back of her mind, waiting to appear at a random date to continue the chaos that was her life. She had detected no signs of abnormality during her monthly checks. Self-breast exam existed as a necessary part of her life.
“We can repeat the mammogram tomorrow at four and do an ultrasound at the same time. If the time doesn’t suit, let me know.”
Statistics from class flitted through her thoughts. She dealt with the dead, not BRCA and HER2 genes. It’s just a suspicion, not fact. You can only deal with what you’re given. “Yes, Dr. Weller. That’s fine. I’ll be there. Thank you.”
Returning Ari’s call provided a necessary distraction. In the past forty-eight hours, she had embroiled herself in a twisted plot involving a murderer following a hidden agenda and a cop that twisted her emotions in knots. The possibility of cancer was a virtual kick in the gut. She stood at ground zero with no human support system, no one to discuss possibilities with or to vent her frustration.
She’d had few lovers, and none remained friends when the relationships ended. The only exception was Ari, who would listen to anything she needed to say. She saw no reason they couldn’t be professional if not friendly since their paths would continue to cross in social circles.
Still, she couldn’t lay the latest emotional bombshell at his feet. Not yet. Despite his high IQ, he grasped the finer nuances of empathy and support. Through his work, he could relate to the process fate had just thrust her way. His logical way of thinking always revealed a calmer path, and if her fears became reality, he would be there for her.
Regardless, the words echoing through her mind shaped the budding harbinger of doom into a reality she wasn’t ready to face. Dumbfounded, she sat on the sofa with Holly’s purring and Buckeye’s nuzzling for comfort.
When the sofa cushions shifted under Billy’s weight, she startled. “Oh, Sorry. Kinda lost in thought.”
“Care to share?”
“Nah, I’m all right.” Gratitude over him not pressing the matter eased her tension.
As if sensing her need for closeness but not ready for conversation, he accepted Buckeye’s nudges and obliged with ear scratches. “You have quite a following here. My oldest brother says his dog is more intuitive than most people.”
“Animals are. They both know when I need a hug.” A scrub down her dog’s chest induced him to rub his furry head along her thigh. When she rested her hand on the cushion, Billy covered it with his larger, warmer one before giving a brief if light squeeze.
“You’ve been through a lot. You’re not alone.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” The comfort derived from his warmth lacked sexual tension, merely an offer of support, given in the spirit of friendship. She accepted. “I know I couldn’t have saved Gena. Hell, I couldn’t even protect myself. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again.”
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class? I can show you a few tactics, if you like.”
“Yes, I’d like that. It would keep my mind off of everything else, if only for a while.” He was offering a connection with no strings attached, not wanting anything in return. How could she refuse?
Chapter Nine
Gena’s graveside service integrated a diverse group of college friends, neighbors, and family. There was no sign of the roommate or at least no one matching the appearance of the sophomore’s photo. An aunt delivered a moving eulogy including fond memories of her niece’s childhood antics.
Billy stood beside Remie with his hand at her low back. She’d been distracted since they left the farm, the weight of the world pressing on her shoulders. Guilt etched her features when she squeezed her eyes shut, as if reliving the deadly encounter. When she leaned in his direction then hesitated, he pulled her closer, the contact lending whatever comfort she would take.
Royden and Matt stood on opposite sides of the grave to watch the crowd, scrutinizing faces and scanning for behavior other than grief or shock. Typical reactions under the circumstances included girls with puffy eyes and splotchy skin, monotone voices, and downturned facial features.
Three teary-eyed girls stood off to the side, not mingling before the service. Their darting glances surveyed the gathering with frequent pauses on Matt and Royden. College kids can pick out a cop a mile away. Their manner suggested not just the loss of a friend, but the speculation behind the circumstances and the expectation of worse things to come.
The one exception in the crowd was a black-haired pixie bearing a pink streak partially hidden in a haphazard bun. She stood close to the teenagers, talking intermittently, but didn’t appear to be an integral part. She probably didn’t realize the repetitive gesture of fingering the necklace at her throat as a common outlet for nervousness. The standout appeared to grieve but studied the crowd in surreptitious glances.
A pointed stare at Matt got his attention. Billy hiked his gaze to the quirky young woman, hoping his brother took note. A slight return nod indicated curiosity. Matt would follow up.
When the last flower was laid on the coffin, the crowd ambled off, some deep in conversation, others shaking their heads. Gena’s parents ambled with purpose toward Remie.
In an unusual show of insecurity, she nudged a little closer and accepted the protective arm tightening about her shoulders with a weak smile.
“Claire, Dale, I’m so sorry for what happened.” The slight waver in her voice gave way to a sob, muffled by the hand covering her mouth. The horror of her flashback brimmed in the tears awash in her eyes and the shoulders she couldn’t straighten.
“Remie, you know we don’t hold you responsible. You’ve been the one she turned to after she stepped in trouble. We just want to know why and who, so we can have peace.” Claire’s words dissolved into tears as the women hugged each other.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bowdin, I’m Detective McAllister, part of the detail searching for answers to both questions.” Billy accepted the older man’s handshake. The fact Remie sidled back and against him revealed a vulnerability he knew she wouldn’t voice.
“Your brother,” the older man turned to watch Matt approach, “said that you were watching over Remie. Keep her safe. She’s family.” Warmth and kindness merged with grief when he held open his arms to Remie for a quiet hug. “I’m sorry you’re involved in whatever madness killed our little girl. I know you’re helping them and won’t stop until you get to the bottom of it. You’ve always been that way. I’m so sorry for the loss of your parents. They were good people, too.”
“Thank you, Dale. And I will find out what happened.”
“Keep in touch, dear.” Claire turned to her husband, “Take me home, Dale.” Together, they shuffled hand in hand toward the road.
“They didn’t deserve this. No parent should have to bury their child.” Remie tucked her chin to chest and closed her eyes. “I’m trained to pick up details and I bring nothing to the investigation.”
“You’re right about being well trained, but you’re not responsible for the actions of a
madman. You’ve had one hell of a shock. If there are more details to be had, they’ll come to you at some point.”
The voice struck a familiar note. Billy turned, keeping his expression blank. Reasons for the doctor’s appearance lined his face in shades of sympathy and compassion.
“Ari? Thank you, but you didn’t need to come.” An uncharacteristic frailty edged her tone.
“Of course I did. I can’t stand to see you in pain and not offer help. Let’s go someplace quiet and talk. You’ve been through several ordeals in a short period of time.”
“Thanks, but I just want to go home and cuddle with my fur babies. I’ll be all right.”
“Should you be out in the open like this?” Arrogance bordering on condescension delivered a bite as his pointed stare rested on Billy.
“She’s fine.” From his periphery, Billy watched Royden step to Matt’s other side to close the circle around Remie.
“Shouldn’t you cops be out beating the bushes for the killer?”
“We’re exactly where we need to be and will stay as long as necessary.” No doubt, Remie would’ve ripped the arrogant bastard a new one if she’d felt better. Until then, Billy intended to act as her shield.
“I don’t like the idea of you alone out there on the farm, Remie. Come stay at my estate. There’s plenty of room for your menagerie along with top notch security.”
She’s no longer a naïve and impressionable young woman. A gust of cool air raised the hair on Billy’s neck. Remie had declared she hadn’t recognized her attacker. If her ex was her assailant, her subconscious would have cast out subtle warnings. Which doesn’t mean she’ll listen.
“I’m fine, Ari. I have a good security system of my own, complete with jaws, claws, and an early warning system. I’m also a decent shot.”
“Independent as always. All right. Call me if you need anything, anything at all.” With the dignity of a self-entitled aristocrat, the surgeon sighed and held his arms open, an invitation to hug. “I have a bottle of Ridgeview Hambledon Premiere Curvèe with your name on it.”
“Thanks, Ari. I’ll keep that in mind.” Remie stepped forward and placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I’ll check in with you.” Ari folded her in his arms and pressed her head to his chest.
Whatever he murmured against her hair, she nodded her ascent before pulling back. The sadness in her gaze when Ari touched her cheek ripped a scab off a fresh wound she couldn’t heal. Despite the man’s conceit, he did care about her.
In the aftermath of Billy’s ordeal, his girlfriend hadn’t stuck around. He’d never plumbed the depths of a relationship, the type enjoyed by his parents. It galled him to no end that the Englishman’s cultured demeanor included the ability to forge a deep connection with someone other than family. The irritation had nothing to do with the foreigner’s attempt to rekindle a former bond.
“Damn, partner, from what I gather, you’re really learning tact. Kudos.” Royden’s smartass quip received a covert digital salute.
“Let’s go, Remie. You’re bushed.” Over his shoulder, he advised, “I’ll talk to you guys later.” Billy led her toward his truck, parked among the long line of vehicles.
A soft breeze swirled the burgeoning scents of spring blooms in a heady reminder of new life. Freshly cut grass added its aroma, augmenting the contradiction of new versus old, living versus dead.
Her steps slowed as he led her around to the truck’s passenger side. “Thank you for—everything. I appreciate it more than you know.” Wrapping her arms about his waist, she pulled him in for a hug.
The searing heat from their contact motivated him to hold her tight. “I’m right here. We’ll get through this.” Cool air brushed his face when she turned away.
He’d been prepared for her grief, her tears, and her relief to have companionship through adversity. He wasn’t ready for her scream or for her knees to buckle as she fainted. In catching her, his line of sight snagged the item renewing her horror.
“Aw fuck.” The flash of ragged skin perched on the front seat contrasted his dark camouflage covers. Whether the ear belonged to the missing coed or previously stolen by Gena didn’t matter. Someone used a sick pastime to taunt the medical examiner.
To what purpose?
Katt hated funerals. It hadn’t been hard to predict her subject’s intent after reviewing pertinent information.
Accordingly, she’d dressed in conservative black pants, gray button-down blouse, and black shoes. Laced footwear would’ve provided a more comfortable fit, not to mention they stayed on better during a footrace. In the pocket of her light jacket, she thumbed the controls to her tape recorder. So far, murmured conversations entailed the expected shock and awe.
The purse hanging from her shoulder seemed as foreign to her nature as the feel of her hair twisted in a bun at her nape. Her first thought of wardrobe had included a hat to cover the pink stripe in her black curls. On the other hand, college kids came in all flavors, in all their infinite variety. That and her instructor’s voice rang in her mind, “never dull any of your senses while working. You never know when one might net you crucial evidence… or save your life.” Covering her ears when around cops paralleled sticking your head in the sand during a bull run.
Natural curiosity led to chatting with the teenagers present and fleshed out her façade as a college sophomore. Everyone took English 101, and most kids she knew hated it. Spoiled brats. She considered herself an exception, being lucky enough to acquire scholarships to attend the local community college. The upshot of varied attendees facilitated blending with the crowd while keeping an eye on her target.
Achieving her goal of licensed private investigator in the state of Oregon amounted to no small feat. She’d jumped through all the hoops, dotted her I’s, crossed her T’s, and convinced an aging has-been to let her work under his credentials for the required training period. It hadn’t been easy, but she now flew solo on her own license complete with student loans to pay. Forsaking any attempt at relationships in lieu of studying had been worth it, or so she’d thought at the time.
Watching the pathologist shuffle closer to the hunk detective layered a veil of envy over her heart. She’d never let jealousy garner traction in her soul and wouldn’t start now. At the end of the day when she mentally reviewed her decisions, her choices remained solid.
According to her source, someone attacked the doc and left her in a stream during the early morning hours. She deserved some TLC.
Katt’s job entailed observing and reporting the doctor’s whereabouts when not at the morgue. Her anonymous employer wanted to know the doctor’s every move. The cash influx assured a roof over her head for the next month and a car that made it from point A to point B, until the clunker broke down again.
Featherlight fingers of anxiety diverted her attention to the side where Mathew McAllister’s weighted stare bored a hole in her resolve she couldn’t shake. Initial information included the names and photos of his brother Billy and Dr. Remie Tallin. From there, she’d done her research and discovered the McAllister detective came with four brothers as backup. Since she was new on the job, they wouldn’t know her face. So why is Mathew McAllister visually dissecting me?
She took a deep breath when the gathering began to disperse and couldn’t wait to put distance between herself and the grief suffocating those present. The sooner she filled her car with soft rock the better. Each step away leeched tension from her shoulders.
To bury a kid on such a bright, sunny day challenged nature to find reason and balance for such a travesty. No one’s life should end in such a foul manner.
The oldest McAllister’s reflection in a car window showed him pacing her from a distance. She increased her stride. He had no probable cause to request her ID so would opt for soft pressure, maybe feigning casual interest. She wouldn’t have to fake like in kind. Like his brother, Billy, he’d be any girls dream chew toy.
The fifty yards to her vehicle might as well have been mi
les as McAllister’s strides closed the distance. Instinct warned her to be wary of them all. She hunched her shoulders and sniffled while reaching into her purse to retrieve the double-wrapped baggie. A light snap. Several sniffs of the cut onion and her eyes teared, a trick from her mentor.
“Hey, miss, hold up. Are you all right?” There was more order than concern in his tone.
Damn. So close. With her hand on her car door, she turned as a scream filled the air. Thirty yards away, Remie had been about to climb in Billy’s truck but stumbled back and dropped in his arms.
Well shit. What’s that all about?
Matt huffed out a sigh then turned on his heel and hoofed it toward the gathering crowd. An unintelligible mutter preceded the frown when he glanced back.
She couldn’t hide the small smile.
Relief saw her plopping down behind the wheel. Better to observe from a discreet distance than get caught up in whatever mess now drew the crowd. She hadn’t blown her cover yet, but a McAllister dropped her on his radar. Not good. Whatever drama now occurred provided time to gather her thoughts and review her surveillance plan for the week.
Her employer had advised Remie would visit the hospital at some point, most likely at the end of her shift. It was too much to hope for a reunion of old friends or other celebration. She hated hospitals and lacked the digital prowess to hack many file types, certainly not a medical facility.
If the current ruckus birthed some new terror, it seemed the killer enjoyed maneuvering players like pieces on a chessboard. Shit, the pawns always go first. The money had been good. Maybe too good.
Chapter Ten
“Ugh.” The frown furrowing the pathologist’s brow remained in place despite the light touch smoothing her forehead.
“Hey, sunshine. Care to join us for a bit?” Billy adjusted Remie’s position as he sat in his brother’s SUV. It was the second time he’d held her and aside from the circumstances, found an odd contentment settling his soul.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two Page 34