by Rayna Morgan
“Yeah, it was me,” Jack admitted reluctantly.
“Why didn’t you come in?”
“I thought your work place would be a more neutral meeting ground.”
Tom noticed Pat and the desk clerk watching. “Come with me.”
He led the way to his office. “Can I get you coffee?”
“The same sludge as the last time I was here?”
Tom smiled. “Some things never change.”
“I’ll pass.” Jack settled into a chair. “Speaking of change, I met your new partner.”
Tom threw his keys on the desk and sat down. “You mean Pat.”
“What’s her story?”
“Pat was a rookie I trained after I took over the major crimes division. After she proved herself, I kept her on as my partner.”
“She’s a huge improvement from your last partner. In the looks department, at least.”
Tom ignored his brother’s comment. “She and I have the right chemistry to work together. I trust her to have my back.”
“I wouldn’t mind a dish like her having my back.”
Tom smiled again. “As I say, some things never change, including you.”
He leaned back and propped his feet on his desk. “What are you doing in town? I thought you were working on oil rigs in Long Beach.”
“The company lost a supervisor in Vista Harbor. They sent me as a replacement.”
Tom’s brow furrowed. “Is that a permanent job?”
“Don’t worry. It’s only until they fill the spot. I won’t be around for long.”
Tom raised his hands, palms up. “Do I look worried?”
Jack leaned forward. “I saw Maddy. She looks great.”
“Yeah. She mentioned it to me.”
Jack offered a quick explanation. “She saw me at the donut shop Monday. Since I didn’t have time to say hello, I stopped by her place later that night.”
“What did you two talk about?”
Jack chuckled. “Quit playing detective. Everything she said about you was good.”
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
“Come in,” Tom hollered.
Pat stuck her head in. Her eyes quickly scanned the room for Jack.
“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but the burglary squad is here for their briefing.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell them to hold their horses.”
She spoke to Tom, but her eyes stayed on Jack. “They’re complaining about the donuts being stale.”
Jack grinned. “As you say, bro, some things never change.”
“Give me five minutes,” Tom said.
“Take all the time you want, boss. I’ll quiet the natives.”
Jack stood and moved toward her. “It’s all right. I should get going.”
Tom walked around his desk. “I’ll walk you out.”
Pat moved to one side, but Jack stopped in front of her.
Tom stepped between them. “Let’s get together while you’re in town, Jack.”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“Do you have someone to make it a foursome?”
Jack winked at Pat. “I’ll see what I can do.”
• • •
After the briefing, Pat moved around the room throwing paper caps and napkins in the trash.
Since moving past her rookie status, cleaning up was no longer her job. Still, she didn’t mind. As the only woman in the major crimes division, preserving neatness helped her stay balanced in the testosterone-filled environment.
Pat prided herself on being a team player, but she never felt a need to be like the others. Hers was the only desk with a plant. Her locker the only one with smiley stickers.
She recalled the first case she worked with Tom when she was still a rookie.
• • •
She arrived at the crime scene in response to his request for backup and quickly explained her presence as the officer on call.
“You don’t need to make excuses for being here,” he told her. “Just do your job.”
After that case, he mentored her teaching her the ropes and passing on his knowledge.
Still, she waited. She knew the squad would consider her a rookie until Tom determined otherwise.
She would never forget the day it happened.
During her first undercover assignment, she was taken hostage. Before her captors completed a plan to throw her off a plane into the ocean, she overpowered them and secured important evidence to break up a gambling ring.
Tom approached her on the runway.
“Good job, kid,” was all he said. But with those few words, she knew she had arrived.
Back at the station, a veteran cop walked over and tweaked her hair.
“Look, fellas,” he shouted. “She’s no longer wet behind the ears.”
• • •
His voice behind her interrupted the daydream.
“You’re wasting your time,” he said. “The guys will only mess it up tomorrow.”
She smiled, knowing he understood why she did it.
“It was nice meeting your brother.”
“Don’t get used to seeing him around. He never stays long.”
“Any particular reason?”
“He has commitment issues.”
Before she could ask more, he gave an order.
“Let’s get rolling. You and I have work to do.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Cliff House was located on a hill with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the ocean.
“Do you have reservations, Miss?” the hostess asked.
“I’m meeting someone for a drink.”
“Of course. There are tables available in the cocktail lounge.”
Classical music from hidden speakers and indirect lighting created an intimate atmosphere in the room she entered. She passed to an empty table at the back, opting for privacy rather than visibility.
A young man emerged from behind the bar and placed a cocktail napkin on the table.
“There will be two,” she said.
“Would you like to order or do you prefer to wait for the other party?”
She jumped at a chance for a drink before the doctor arrived.
“A vodka gimlet, please.”
As she waited, she observed the people at the bar. Rather than the noisy working crowd of places she frequented, these patrons engaged in quiet conversation and subdued laughter. She already regretted inviting the doctor and wished Tom were here instead to enjoy the atmosphere.
When her drink arrived, she took a deep gulp and willed herself to relax.
• • •
The doctor entered the bar. She waved at him.
On the way to her table, he stopped once or twice to exchange greetings.
He looked at the drink in front of her as he slid into a chair.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
She smiled flirtatiously. “I got a head start.”
The bartender approached.
“Good evening, Doctor Grant. May I bring you a cocktail?”
“Please, Ben. A dry martini with a twist.”
He pointed at her glass and ordered without consulting her.
“Bring another of those and a double order of oysters.”
“No oysters for me,” she said. “The texture makes me gag.”
“Why didn’t you say something? We could have gone somewhere else.”
“No problem. I love calamari.”
The doctor revised his order. “A single order of oysters and calamari for the lady.”
After the barman left, Jeffrey turned his chair toward her.
“From the address on the form you filled out, you live up north.”
Maddy was momentarily confused until she remembered she gave Angie false information based on Lea’s advice to exercise caution.
“I flew in yesterday. I’m staying with my sister in Buena Viaje.”
“How did you learn about my clinic?”
; “On the internet.”
At least, that part is true, Maddy thought.
Ben brought the drinks.
The doctor eyed her with curiosity as he sipped his martini. “Tell me about yourself.”
What lies can I come up with? I’m not as quick on my feet as Lea.
“I’m more interested in learning about you. After all, I’ll be putting my life-at least, my face-in your hands.”
He laughed. “What would you like to know?”
“I understand the clinic opened a year ago. Before that, you were in San Diego.”
“That’s correct.”
“I grew up in San Diego,” she told him.
She mentioned the neighborhood where her family lived and the schools she attended.
He asked her parents’ occupations.
“My mother was a full-time housewife, something almost unheard of now.”
She faltered when it came to telling about her father.
“My dad was a civil servant. He’s mostly retired now.”
The bartender delivered the fish, giving her an excuse to stop talking.
When they resumed, she diverted questions to him.
“What part of San Diego were you in?”
“My office was in La Jolla, near my home.”
“Your practice must have thrived. La Jolla is one of the most expensive places in the state.”
He nodded. “I was wise enough to choose a lucrative field of medicine.”
“Aren’t all fields of medicine lucrative?” she asked.
A smile crossed his lips. “Some more than others. My mother wanted me to be a general practitioner, but I didn’t follow most of my parents’ advice.”
“Did your father want you to be a doctor?”
His eyes drifted to an invisible spot on the wall.
“My father was an alcoholic who used my mother as a punching bag. He didn’t care what happened to either my mother or me.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“When I was old enough, I stood up to him. He came home one night and yelled at my mother about not having dinner on the table. She told him he spent the money she needed for groceries on booze. He slapped her, and I knocked him out cold. He packed a suitcase and left the next day. We never saw him again.”
“That was brave of you to save your mother.”
His jaw tightened, stretching his face until it resembled an unsuccessful face lift. His voice turned icy. “Perhaps, but it wasn’t my mother’s view of the situation.”
Before she could respond, a veil dropped over his eyes and he continued.
“It happened long ago. I got over it. I’m not like people who dwell on an unhappy childhood to use as a crutch or an excuse for not succeeding.”
He drained his glass.
When he spoke again, his voice softened. “You asked about my practice in San Diego and I’ve been blabbering about my childhood. I guess because I find you easy to talk to.”
A lock of hair fell across her forehead. She brushed it away as casually as his remark. “You talk with people all day long.”
“It’s refreshing to talk to a woman about things other than face lifts or boob reconstruction.”
“Tell me why you opened your clinic here rather than in San Diego.”
“After my wife died—”
“Oh, my goodness. I just realized your wife was Emma Grant. I remember the case. It made headlines for weeks.”
He sighed. “I keep hoping my past will disappear. It may have been better had the case gone to trial where the truth came out. I would have been exonerated in the eyes of the public.”
“What truth?”
“The truth of Emma’s secret. The reason for the overdose.”
Maddy held her breath, willing him to keep talking and only exhaled when he continued.
“I mentioned her anxiety. It started with tranquilizers. Once she calmed down, she wanted uppers for energy. Next, she required pills to sleep.”
“Emma was an addict?”
“Not hard stuff, but she couldn’t live without her pills.”
“As I recall, they cited chloroform in connection with her death.”
He looked surprised. “You remember the details.”
“The case caught my attention because I had a friend using chloroform to get high. She claimed it helped her relax. I showed her the story to warn her about the danger.”
“For that reason, I felt responsible. I told my wife about chloroform, hoping we could wean her off anxiety pills. In the correct dosage, it shouldn’t have caused a problem.”
He shook his head as though warding off a bad memory.
“The intruder who caused her death had no way of knowing she dosed herself to sleep before he arrived. Her heart reacted to the excessive amount. If my wife had not taken sleeping aids, she wouldn’t have died. A tragic accident, but not all the tabloids reported the coroner’s ruling of accidental death.
“People can be cruel, preferring to believe the worst. With all the rumors and innuendos, the city lost its appeal. I decided to move away from San Diego.”
“Why here?”
“My wife’s parents live in the area. Our visits to their home were always pleasant. I fell in love with the location. It was an easy decision to make once I decided I no longer wished to be in San Diego.”
“And the clinic?”
“During one of our visits, my wife’s father introduced me to an investor friend who owned property. I think my father-in-law hoped we might buy a parcel from him and build a second home. Instead, I told the investor my dream of a plastic surgery center. He loved the idea enough to suggest a partnership.”
“The investor provided the land and the financing?”
“He required an equal investment on my part to assure him of my commitment. Nothing transpired at the time, much to my father-in-law’s disappointment.”
He ran a finger around the rim of his empty glass.
“When I made a decision to move, I contacted the investor. I informed him I had my share so we could proceed. The rest is history.”
Did his wife’s inheritance become his share of the financing? She wondered.
“It’s too bad the clinic wasn’t built while your wife was alive. She would have enjoyed living near family again.”
“Actually, my wife wasn’t close to her family. Her father envisioned her being involved in his business, but Emma had no interest. If she had, I would have tried to accommodate her wishes. She knew it was important for me to establish a practice in San Diego. She preferred to be with me.”
Hardly the situation Sam described.
Two women stopped by their table. One of them reached out her hand for the doctor to kiss.
“Jeffrey, how nice to see you.”
“Likewise, Alicia. How are Bart and your son?”
“Since the university is now in session, I rarely see my son. Of course, I never see much of my husband.” She produced a hearty laugh and hugged her companion. “That’s fine by me. It gives me more time to be with my friends.”
“If I were in Bart’s position,” Jeffrey said, “I wouldn’t spend time away from a woman as lovely as you.”
Alicia’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “You naughty boy. Flattery gets you everywhere.”
She turned toward Maddy.
“Who is this, Jeffrey? You haven’t introduced us.”
“A guest who visited the clinic today,” he replied.
The women inspected her.
Deciding if I’m a ‘before’ or ‘after’.
Alicia leaned over Maddy with lips curled like a Cheshire cat. “Don’t worry, Jeffrey won’t talk you into anything you shouldn’t do. It’s worth every penny, believe me.”
The women turned to leave.
“Tell Emily we’ll see her at the fashion show next week,” the other woman said.
“Will she be selecting pieces for her trousseau?” Alicia asked cattily.
“Unless you dec
ide to leave Bart and run away with me.”
Another hearty laugh. “You devil!”
The women walked to their table.
“Your friends don’t seem surprised you invited me for a drink,” Maddy observed.
“They understand public relations.”
“I see. Wining and dining patients is a public relations ploy.”
He shrugged. “It’s part of doing business in a competitive field. The only element of promoting myself which I enjoy.”
He reached across the table and turned her hand.
“I don’t see a ring on that finger.”
“Like you, I’m in a relationship.” She pulled her hand back. “Unlike you, I don’t have to be married to feel committed. Which reminds me, it’s time for me to leave.”
She grabbed her purse and he signaled for the bill.
In the parking lot, he pulled out his phone. “Why don’t you give me your number?”
Maddy rattled off the seven digits of her cell.
“What’s the area code?” he asked.
Realizing her mistake, she fumbled for a response.
“I lost my phone. This is a disposable I picked up at the store.”
He opened the door of her car. “This doesn’t look like a rental.”
“My sister lets me use her car when I’m in town.”
She glanced in her rear-view mirror as she drove away.
He stood motionless, watching.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
I’m not cut out for this under cover stuff.
• • •
Maddy lowered the window, allowing ocean breezes to cool her face. She rolled her head from side to side, relieving tension in her shoulders.
As she drove, she considered her first completed assignment for the Conley and Austin Detective Agency.
When Lea and her father first explained the Swanson matter, she had little interest. It seemed a waste of time and energy. After all, the so-called murder took place years ago. As far as she was concerned, they were following the misguided passion of a broken-hearted father.
On top of that, Maddy was given the impossible task of getting a suspect to confess to a person he didn’t know.
But now, she mentally replayed her conversation with the doctor. It resonated in a way which changed the case for Maddy.
I relate to Emma, she realized. Jeffrey Grant displays unsettling qualities which remind me of Eric.
Most noticeably, each man lived in a world of their own making. A place people were allowed to inhabit, but only to a degree.