They were both working hard at pretending that the intimacy of two months ago hadn’t taken place. Or maybe Jack didn’t need to try all that hard. Maybe she was the only one who couldn’t quite seem to put it out of her memory.
And she could no longer put a name to the relationship. He’d been a lover briefly, in the most nonchalant sense of the word. They didn’t even know each other well enough for the label of close friend to apply, and yet he’d pretty much flushed his career in order to help her. What kind of man forked over a hundred grand for a woman he barely knew? The crazy kind? The right kind?
Her conscience ratcheting the knot inside even tighter, Lexie glanced away. What was she going to do? Maybe she should just come out and tell him that she was pregnant. Get it out in the open. Deal with it.
As Fleming pushed open the door, she looked up.
“You’ve picked a really bad time to show up here, Lexie.”
“Not nearly as bad as my timing Friday night,” she said.
Fleming let out a harsh breath as he stepped the rest of the way into his private office. He almost looked embarrassed, as if he realized just how self-centered his statement had sounded.
“Sorry. It’s been a bad week already. There were two detectives in here yesterday questioning the staff for hours. On top of that, there was no way to cancel Dan’s patients, so I didn’t get out of here until nearly nine last night, and I have half a dozen patients waiting in treatment rooms now.” A patient and a dark-haired nurse walked by the still-open door.
Fleming pushed the door closed. “And to be honest, in the future I’d prefer you didn’t come here. It just upsets the staff and the patients.”
Fleming hadn’t yet given any indication that he saw Jack.
“And you?” She took a deep breath, tried to corral her agitation. “Does my presence here make you uncomfortable?”
He frowned. “If you’re here to ask why I refused to help with bail, you should have realized I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?”
“Dan was my partner. You’re charged with his murder. How would that look?”
“As if you believed I was innocent?” She didn’t quite manage to keep the sarcasm in check.
“Listen, Lexie, I am sorry about your current problems, but the last thing I need is to get dragged into a murder investigation on top of everything else.”
“I think it’s too late,” Lexie said.
“What do you mean?” He was starting to move away from the door when he finally saw Jack. He pulled up short, and Lexie could see the outward signs of irritation being suppressed.
“Good morning. I didn’t realize Lexie wasn’t alone.” He rounded the desk and sat. As the office call system chirped, he glanced down at the box. After punching in a response, he met Jack’s gaze again. “So what brings you here? Since you’re no longer with the police department.”
“The defense has hired me to investigate, and I wanted some clarification of your movements on Friday.”
“I’d love to help you, but I’ve given answers to these questions already. To the police. And as I said a few moments ago, I have patients to see.” He stood.
Jack also got to his feet. “I can get a subpoena.”
Fleming rounded his desk on the way to the door. “Then I think you better get one. This is nothing more than harassment.”
“You have any idea what the penalty is for perjury? That’s what it’s going to be when Lexie’s attorney puts you on the stand and asks you where you were Friday night. Because I know for a fact that you didn’t stop at Clive’s.” Jack stepped in front of Fleming. “You answer a few questions, and assuming I like those answers, you don’t get subpoenaed. At least not by the defense.”
Still seated, Lexie looked up at Fleming. She didn’t recognize him. He had always been someone she felt she could turn to. She’d considered him a friend. But the look in his eyes assured her that he wasn’t. “Wouldn’t it be easier, Fleming, to just answer the questions?” She got to her feet. “Unless you have something to hide. Unless you were somehow involved in Dan’s murder.”
Fleming reached down for the phone. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
Jack did something Lexie didn’t expect. She suspected Fleming hadn’t, either. Jack smiled. “You’re hiding something, Whittemore. And I’m going to find out what it is.”
Stepping aside, he escorted Lexie out the door. They were nearly to the reception area when Lexie nodded toward the restroom. “I need to make a quick stop.” She was still shaking inside.
After washing the hand without a cast, she reapplied lip gloss somewhat awkwardly. She was getting better at doing things with her left hand. Buttons and bras were still on the tricky side, though. She was sliding away the tube of gloss when Marian Glefke, the officer manager, stepped in.
Marian was one of those women who was rarely noticed until your eyes connected with hers. Then there was no looking away. She’d been one of Dan’s favorites. Lexie’s, too, actually.
But today, Lexie steeled herself for the coming confrontation.
Marian’s hand remained on the door. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Dr. D. And about what is happening to you now.”
Surprised and relieved, Lexie tossed into the trash the paper towel she held. “Thanks, Marian.” She managed to halt the emotion that welled up inside her. “You can’t imagine how much that means to me. Dan always thought so much of you.”
The office manager hadn’t moved away from the entrance. Was she standing in front of it to keep anyone from walking in on them? Did she worry that being kind to Lexie was going to put her at odds with the rest of the staff? With Fleming?
“The respect was mutual,” Marian said. “He was a good doctor.” She paused. “The police were in yesterday, talking to all of us about last Friday. I didn’t mention it to them.”
“Didn’t mention what?”
“Actually, with everything else, it slipped my mind until my husband brought it up last night. He wondered if there had been any fallout.”
What was Marian talking about? “What kind of fallout?”
“Dr. D got a call just after lunch on Wednesday. Maybe three or four o’clock. I think something about the call upset him because a few minutes later, he requested his patients for Thursday afternoon be moved to another day.”
“Do you know who it was that called?”
“Nidia Rivera.”
“From the Pierson Clinic?”
“Yes.”
Dan and Fleming had taken over the Pierson Clinic two years ago. The clinic had been struggling financially, largely due to poor collection. Had the call Wednesday just been about another unprofitable month?
“Dr. D. phoned me from out there the next afternoon. He wanted to know where Dr. Whittemore was.”
“And where was he?”
“Seeing patients here in this office. He wasn’t scheduled to be out in Pierson until Friday morning.”
“But you don’t know why he wanted to know where Fleming was, or why Nidia had called on Wednesday?”
“No. But in four years, the only other time Dr. D had me change his appointments was for the baby’s memorial. He always put his patients first. Didn’t want to inconvenience them.”
Dan hadn’t attended Lindy’s memorial, though. And Marian would know that. As she would know the lies that Dan had spread about the reason he hadn’t attended.
Someone pushed at the door. Marian immediately moved away from it to the sink, where she washed her hands. Both Lexie and Marian smiled at the newcomer, a patient, and then exited, but almost if by unspoken agreement, not together. Fortunately, when Lexie stepped out into the hall, Fleming was nowhere in view.
She caught sight of Jack waiting next to the front door and hurried toward him. Her footsteps echoed on the limestone floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman rise and follow a nurse toward the exam rooms. Something about her profile seeme
d familiar.
Turning, Lexie watched the woman. All she could see now, though, was the trim back, the very straight posture. The long dark hair. Instead of an exam room, she was ushered into Fleming’s office. Who was she?
The private office was used to discuss either the good news of pregnancy or the bad news of a medical complication. Or to interview job applicants. Did Lexie know her from one of the medical offices she called on in the area?
Fleming came out of an exam room across the hall and headed for his office. As he reached for the knob, he glanced toward the reception area, his gaze connecting with Lexie’s. She expected trouble, but instead he walked into his office and closed the door.
It was only then that the answer came to her. The woman in the office was Amanda, the young woman from her support group.
Was it possible that she was pregnant again?
Marian walked up. “I’m sorry, Lexie. You need to leave. Otherwise, I’m to call the police.”
Lexie nodded in understanding and started to turn away, then faced Marian. “The patient in Fleming’s office. Her name’s Amanda. Has she been Fleming’s patient for long?”
“No. She was one of Dan’s. From the Pierson Clinic.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“You know I can’t discuss a patient’s medical history or current condition.”
“Yes. I know.”
Jack held the outside door open for Lexie as she approached. “What’s going on?”
“Marian said that Dan got a call from the Pierson Clinic last Wednesday. She seemed to think it upset him. Enough that he cancelled an afternoon’s worth of appointments with patients. And Dan wasn’t the type of doctor who did that kind of thing.”
“I guess that means we should take a ride out there.”
Pierson, a small community sitting on the edge of the Ocala National Forest, held the distinction of being the Fern Capital of the World. In spite of that, with the high unemployment rate and an average annual income of less than thirty thousand, it was one of those rural areas that seemed to survive, but never to prosper.
The Pierson Clinic of Drs. Whittemore and Dawson was nothing like the Deep Water office. The strip mall where it was located was on Highway 17, the roadway itself poorly maintained, the median filled with dry weeds and trash. The actual medical facility was sandwiched between an auto parts store and a bakery.
Where professional photographs of babies hung in the reception area of the other office, the only thing on the wall here was a framed poster titled: From Conception to Birth.
The furniture was basic doctor’s office, and the flooring was a gray, multitoned commercial carpet that showed wear. But there were flowers at the front desk, and a small carafe of water and disposable cups sat at one end of the counter.
A young girl dressed in jeans, a hoodie and flip-flops was talking to the woman behind the reception desk.
Jack and Lexie took seats against the back wall to wait.
“A little different than the Deep Water office,” he commented.
“These people aren’t looking to be impressed. They just want good care at a fee they can afford. There was another obstetric office in Pierson, but high malpractice premiums forced it to close its doors.”
“So how often are patients seen out here?”
“Two days a week.”
As the girl turned to leave, Jack and Lexie approached the counter. “Hello, Mrs. Dawson.” The woman, a Hispanic lady somewhere in her forties, with long dark hair and flawless skin, looked uncertain.
Lexie introduced Jack to Nidia Rivera.
Nidia seemed nervous. “Dr. Whittemore called a little bit ago,” Nidia said. “I’ve been instructed not to talk to you.”
Jack ignored the statement. “You made a phone call last Wednesday to Dr. Dawson. What about?”
“I make lots of phone calls to Dr. Dawson. For the past month, I’ve had to report to him almost daily.”
“What about?” he repeated.
“People around here depend on the fern industry. When the hurricanes destroyed the shade structures, they lost their jobs. Without work, they can’t pay their bills.” She slipped the two dollars the girl had given her into the top drawer of the desk. “Dr. Dawson said I wasn’t working the account receivables hard enough. I told him to come try and collect money from people who don’t have it. See how he did.”
“What about Wednesday? Anything different about that call?”
“Sure. About two weeks ago, Dr. Dawson asked me to pull the charts of any patients he or Dr. Whittemore had seen in this office once or twice who had failed to return for further appointments. The computer system at the Deep Water office evidently tracks that kind of thing, but the crap system here doesn’t. I had to go through each chart.” She motioned toward a file room wall-to-wall with records. “On Wednesday I called to tell him I had them ready for him, and to ask if he wanted me to have them couriered to him or wanted to look at them the next time he was out here at this location.”
“Why would that interest him?”
“Lose a patient, lose their money. That’s all these people were to him.” She looked at Lexie. “It got worse when you left him.”
“So when he came in on Thursday, what happened?”
“He called me into his office and accused me of doing a bad job. It was my fault that the clinic wasn’t doing well. That so many patients had left after their first or second visit. He actually chewed me out. Like I was a nobody. I don’t take that from no man. I gave him my two-week notice that afternoon.”
Jack nodded, as if agreeing that the woman was right to be upset. Nidia seemed to relax some.
“Do you still have those charts?” he asked.
“He took them with him.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Did you keep a list of the patients?”
“No reason to,” she said.
“Perhaps you recall some of the women?”
“No. Because they were only in once or twice, they were just names to me, and I have a hard time remembering names. I’m much better with faces.”
“Okay. What about Friday? Dr. Whittemore was here seeing patients until what time?”
“We were scheduled to five, but he had me reschedule his last few patients. Said he was meeting someone.”
“Could he have been meeting Dr. Dawson?”
“I don’t think so. Dr. Dawson called just before three and Dr. Whittemore had me tell him that he was with a patient. That they’d talk on Monday.”
“So Dr. Whittemore didn’t want to talk to Dr. Dawson?”
“No.” Nidia glanced down as the phone rang, but didn’t answer it. “If you ask me, he was meeting a woman. Before he left here, he brushed his teeth, trimmed his mustache. I went in to empty the trash in his bathroom, and there was toothpaste and hair in his sink. And he nearly knocked me over with the smell of his cologne as he walked past me on his way out of the office.”
“Did he often have dates that required him to take off early?” Jack asked. “Or did you ever see him leave with anyone?”
She glanced toward the front window. “I once saw him give a ride to one of Dr. Dawson’s patients.” Lexie followed Nidia’s lead and looked out the window, toward the overgrown field across the highway.
“What exactly did you see?” Jack asked.
“This patient, a young girl, was standing outside as if waiting for someone to pick her up. He was on his way to his car. He stopped and talked to her for several minutes. She followed him to his car and got in.”
“And they drove away?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you recall who the patient was?”
“No. Just some young girl with long brown hair.”
The outside door opened and a young man walked in, dressed in work boots, jeans and a dirt-streaked T-shirt.
“It’s my lunch hour,” she told them. “My husband is here to pick me up.”
Ja
ck and Lexie walked outside, but didn’t get into the SUV. “A wasted trip,” she said.
“Maybe not. There was a pile of charts sitting on the corner of the desk Friday night. Maybe we can spot something in them that points to another suspect.”
Of course she’d seen them. They’d been splattered with blood. As had everything else.
Lexie took a deep breath and looked away. She’d tried desperately to forget everything about that night, and had pretty much managed not to think about what she’d been confronted with in that room. Except at night. When the nightmares found her.
Jack’s strong fingers closed over her shoulder, their warm pressure bolstering her, but not quite chasing away the fear that curled tightly inside her. Nothing could, she suspected. After a brief squeeze, he let go, and by the time she looked up, he was opening her car door.
They passed a barbecue place on the way back and decided to stop. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but realized Jack must be. One look inside at the nearly packed interior told them that, despite the rough appearance of the building and the gravel parking lot, the food was probably good. But it was unlikely they’d get a table in the dining room anytime soon.
Lexie figured they’d just move on up the road until they reached the next restaurant, but Jack pointed to a window marked Take-out Orders.
“I’ll order us a couple of sandwiches. On the way in, I saw two outside picnic tables. Why don’t you go grab one?”
Because the day was cool, both tables were available. She chose the one in the sunshine. As she sat, she noticed the plank top had been heated by the sun.
Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the moment of solitude. It was the first time in days that she had been truly alone.
Lexie inhaled slowly, deliberately, trying not to think about anything.
Opening her eyes and discovering Jack watching her from five feet away, she offered a weak smile. She found being around him easy. There was a calmness in him that she hadn’t noticed in many men. A certain confidence that was appealing and gave her some measure of hope. And hope was something she was having a real hard time holding on to.
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