Quinn could hear the tension in her voice and felt bad, knowing it was his fault that it was there.
This wasn’t where he wanted to be with the woman sitting across from him. Yeah, they had one date and the very next day, she had come to see him at work. Only, he wasn’t alone. When Callie walked in, she found Sissy Parker perched in his lap.
There was an uncomfortable silence as she took it all in. Then, she simply closed her mouth, turned on her expensive heels, and raced out of his office. At that moment, he knew he was doomed.
What he should have done was toss the woman off his lap and race after her. He desperately wanted to tell Callie what had happened. In all truth, yes, he was an outrageous flirt, but on this occasion, he was innocent.
This time, he was the hapless victim to bad timing.
Before he knew it, Sissy just plopped herself there, and then the woman of his dreams walked in and caught it.
Quinn made a huge mistake, as he let Callista Carter walk away. His intent was to let her calm down, and damn, he was sorry that he gave her time to cool off. In his heart, he knew that he should have chased her down, thrown her over his shoulder, and dragged her back to his office, kicking and screaming.
Now, he regretted being a gentleman.
“That’s what I told my deputies, but unfortunately, Judge Parker owns half this town, and when he says jump, we all do.”
Callie smiled at the idea of the man in front of her jumping at someone else’s orders. It was entertaining. Oh, yeah, she’d love the chance to make him do just that. She couldn’t help but feel the laughter threaten to bubble up and overflow.
“Are you actually smiling at me?” he asked, so surprised that he managed to get more than southern hospitality out of her after the misinterpreted scene in his office.
“No, it’s not necessarily directed at you, Sheriff. It was more at the idea that you jump at the judge’s orders,” she replied, looking at him with serene blue eyes that were framed by long black lashes.
“I see you hold a wicked grudge, darlin’,” he stated, sipping his tea. “Will you ever give me another chance to fix that unfortunate scene?”
Callie leaned against the back of the chair and blew a wisp of hair from her eyes. “I’m not sure, Sheriff. You and I are two different people. I don’t know if we should waste our time rectifying anything.” If Callie was going to get neck deep in a romance, she didn't want to get her heart handed to her by a sandy haired playboy in well-worn jeans.
He was about to tell her it wouldn’t be wasted time at all, when his cellphone rang. “Well, hell. We’ll finish this later, Doc. That’s a promise.”
Callie just watched him without acknowledging his words, but they made her stomach flutter in response. She was woman enough to admit that she enjoyed the man trying to chase her down.
Who wouldn’t?
Quinton Gaines was the epitome of sexy.
“Yes?” he growled into the phone, irritated that he was being interrupted from his mid-morning mission.
“Sheriff?”
“What is it, Junior?”
There was a pause. “We’re out at Walker’s Point, and we need you to get here right away.”
“Did you find Sissy?” he asked, beginning to feel a little anxious at the deputy’s voice.
“Hell yeah, Sheriff, and it ain’t pretty.”
That didn't bode well for him. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just hang tight and stay calm.”
“Sheriff, she’s dead,” he said, sounding ill. There was nothing but disbelief in the young man’s voice.
“I’m coming, Junior,” he said, hanging up the phone. Well, once more, he was being ripped away from the woman in front of him.
Damn it!
“I have to go, Doctor. One of my men found Sissy Parker, and she’s not going to be making it home,” he said, standing up. Part of him was feeling guilty for sitting there while his men had to find a dead body.
“Let me come with you. Your men, and the Parkers, will need to talk to someone, and I can help them out.”
He looked hesitant but conceded at the last minute. “I’ll meet you at the truck. Get some shoes on.”
“Okay,” she said, dropping on her sunglasses. She would need them now that the sun had peaked high in the sky.
Running to the sheriff’s truck, she made it just as he started the engine.
“You don’t have to do this, Doctor.”
Callie thought about it. “Yes, I do. It’s my town now, too, and I don’t mind helping out,” she answered, as she buckled her seatbelt. When his knuckles went white on the wheel, Callie touched his wrist.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, trying to get under the man’s skin and to the root of the problem.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. In his head, he was being sucked back into a life that he purposely left. While working the streets for the Atlanta PD, he had faced way too much death. Coming home was his way to get away from it.
“You can use me to get it off your chest,” she offered once more.
There was an uneasiness growing in him. It threatened to roll over him and pull him under.
“I’m good,” he answered, burying it back under the normalcy that he worked so hard building.
“Okay,” she said, turning to watch the scenery pass by. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
Shit!
Why couldn’t he just get past this festering hostility that always seemed to come up between them? The only person he wanted to immerse himself in had just offered to help him try to heal, and he blew her off.
It was official.
He was an idiot.
Focusing on what lay ahead, Quinn pulled his truck off into Walker’s Point. Already, a crowd was starting to gather as word travelled through the small community. “Well, hell, so much for keeping this quiet.”
Callie hopped down from the truck, finally reaching his side.
“You can wait here, Doctor Carter, until I see what the scene looks like,” he said gruffly. The last thing he wanted to do was subject her to the sight of what death looked like. If anything, he wanted to keep her protected from that part of his life.
“I’ve seen dead bodies before, Sheriff,” she replied briskly. She worked alongside the Raleigh FBI on a couple of their serial killings, and saw plenty of death. If this was his way of playing white knight, it was too late. The fair maiden was already tainted with the stench of death. It was burned into her mind and soul.
“Okay then, Doctor, let’s go.”
She followed him into the clearing, cringing as he barked orders at his deputies to keep the scene secure and not to touch anything. Callie crossed to one of the men who looked like he was about to be sick.
“Are you okay, Deputy?” she asked, touching his wrist for his pulse. Immediately, she could tell from his clammy flesh that he was close to going into shock. Whatever he had seen had been too much for him to handle.
“Come on, Deputy. Come sit over here under a tree so that I can check your vital signs. You seem to be dangerously close to passing out.”
He allowed her to lead him to the tree. When he sat down in the shade, she touched her fingers to his throat and began checking his pulse with her watch. When she was finished, she flicked open the top three buttons of his shirt and patted his hand. “Stay here, Deputy.”
The man didn't put up a fight.
Callie headed toward the actual crime scene. Before she could get there, one of Quinn’s men placed his hand on her arm.
“Ma’am, you might not want to see this,” he said softly. “It’s pretty brutal.”
“She’ll be fine, Jimmy Lee. She’s a doctor,” he reassured, his eyes catching the slightest tell. Already, the man was checking out Callie, and it was pissing him off.
Why it did, he had no damn idea.
It wasn’t like the sexy doctor was his.
“Oh,” Jimmy Lee said, stepping out of the way. He didn't mind watch
ing her walk past him. In those shorts, she was the hottest thing there, and that included the scorching sun. In the cutoffs, which she was wearing, she could likely perform a miracle and raise the dead.
Or something…
When he glanced up at his boss, it was evident what the man was thinking, and he had the grace to blush in response.
Callie carefully knelt down beside the woman lying on the ground. Her eyes were wide open and her hair was disheveled, almost as if she had put up a fight. “Do you have another pair of gloves, Sheriff?” she asked, holding out her hand. As she waited, she scanned the dead woman’s prone form, taking it all in. Callie used her medical knowledge and past cases while working with the FBI, to give an assessment.
“Are you sure that you want to do this?” he asked, taking them from the deputy standing beside him.
“Yes, I’m good. Did anyone take pictures of the position yet?” she replied, bracing herself for what was coming.
Deputy Jimmy Lee answered, “Yeah, the crime scene was photo’d just before y’all got here.”
“Good. I don’t want to disturb the scene,” she said, pulling her gloves on and lifting the woman’s hand. “She was restrained, so I doubt that you’ll find anything under her nails for DNA,” she said to no one in particular. “Was she gagged?”
“She was. The crime lab took the gag and the tape,” said Jimmy Lee.
Both looked down at the blood covering her chest. “Why is there a puddle of blood only on her chest?” asked Quinn, looking confused. Granted, he worked many crime scenes in his past, but he had never seen one quite like this.
“Her throat is slit, and that’s most likely what the coroner is going to declare killed her,” Callie replied, touching the blood with her fingertips. “I hope that he doesn’t mind if I touch her,” she said, staring up at the sheriff. “Some like to see the scene in situ.”
All the deputies looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
Quinn replied, “No, Tommy is fairly laid back. We don’t get a lot of murders here, so, I’m sure he’ll appreciate that you’re willing to help.”
There was whispering among the deputies about her not being a real doctor. When she looked up, they stopped.
“I can assure you, as a psychiatrist, I still had to do medical school. You can stop thinking I just rattle around in people’s heads all day.”
Quinn glanced over at his men, giving them a dirty look. It spoke volumes about pissing off the woman he was trying to build something with, other than a single botched date.
Callie refocused on the victim. There was something bugging her about it.
“Okay, the throat wound did her in. This location is likely where she died.”
The sheriff crouched down so they were eye level. “What do you mean? I don’t see enough blood.”
Callie pointed at the wound. “When you slice into the carotid artery, it sprays like a gusher. Look at the blood pattern. It’s barely dripping down her body and it’s a minimal in pooling. I think she was somewhere else first, and then brought here to be finished off.”
“I see what you mean.” He was caught a little off guard that this woman noticed something that no one else did.
“Do you have any water?” she asked suddenly, looking at the nearest deputy standing beside her.
“Yes, ma’am. There’s some in my car.”
“I’ll need it, and your first aid kit.” She watched as the deputy moved quickly to his vehicle. He returned with the large bottle of water and his first aid kit, all while looking bemused.
In fact, every one of the men standing there was obviously finding something entertaining.
“Here you go, ma’am, but I think it’s a little late for the first aid kit,” he said, trying not to laugh. Yeah, medical school his ass. She probably failed out and had to be a shrink instead. They all knew psychiatrists weren’t real doctors.
Quinn glared over Callie’s head, sending another message to his men. It got the response that he wanted, as all the deputies zipped it. Focusing back on the doctor, he watched as she opened the first aid kit and pulled out a package of sterilized gauze.
All the men watched closely, as if she was preparing for surgery. She uncapped the bottle, and then glanced over at the deputy. “You didn’t drink out of this bottle, did you?”
“No, ma’am, why?”
“Because if you did, then your DNA is in this water, Deputy. We don’t want to make you the killer by pouring it over the body.”
“Oh,” he said, moving closer to watch her actions with further curiosity.
“I learned that in med school,” she said sarcastically.
Once more, Quinn stared at the men. Obviously, the doctor was very aware of her surroundings and knew what his deputies were thinking.
They all watched the woman in speculation as to what she was trying to accomplish. When they figured it out, one of the deputies stepped forward.
“Where did you learn to do this?” Deputy Oaks asked, looking over her shoulder as she poured the water onto the dried blood and began wiping it with the sterile bandage. He was definitely impressed, and he wasn’t the only one.
“In the field,” was all she said, as she concentrated on her work.
“Do you have a spare evidence bag?” she asked, glancing up into Quinn’s green eyes.
“Yeah, right here. Are we keeping the gauze for some reason?” questioned the deputy.
“We have to, now that we touched her body with the bandage. They’ll leave fibers, and we don’t want to screw up the lab.”
“Oh.” He watched as she meticulously opened another package and began removing the blood.
“Just like I thought. There’s something here.”
“Wow, how did you know?” Quinn asked, fascinated with what she was doing. This wasn’t just your average shrink. This woman had some deep secrets.
“I figured it was wounds of some sort, but when I touched her chest, it felt like a pattern was there. You had better call the photographer back over here to document this. You’re going to need it for court.”
When Quinn signaled, Deputy Oaks ran for the photographer as Callie continued clearing the blood.
“Well, holy shit!” whispered Quinn, as he looked down at the body and the word carved into the tanned flesh.
Pride
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, staring at Callie like she would have a clue.
“You got me, Sheriff,” she replied, putting the last sterile pad into the evidence bag, “but I would say that it means something to someone in town, or it wouldn’t be carved into Sissy’s body.”
“Well, hell,” he growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was worse than he had originally anticipated. When he heard the woman was dead, he figured drugs, alcohol poisoning, or worse- a run in with a drunken man. Now, he had something far more sinister to deal with in Myrtle Springs.
There appeared to be some nut job with a propensity to carve messages in people. From his past experience, he didn't think it would be only one woman.
This was a message, and it was directed at him.
Callie moved away from the remains and started over toward the deputy under the tree.
“Where are you going?” asked Quinn, as he watched her pull off her latex gloves.
Callie glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going to check on my patient. I want to see if he’s still in shock.”
As she walked away, Callie was just as stunning from the back. It took every ounce of will power to realize where he was, and what he was dealing with at that moment.
“Man, it was pretty clever of her to think like that,” said Deputy Oaks, as he stared down at Sissy’s body. “Now, I feel bad that I was giving her a hard time about being a quack.”
“Yeah, I think there’s more to our town shrink than meets the eye,” he answered, wondering how much she would tell him if he simply came out and asked.
“I think you’re right, Sheriff.
”
Both men turned back as the coroner arrived.
Quinn explained to the man what the doctor had just done, and what she discovered for them.
“Pretty clever,” he replied.
Quinn agreed. The two men went way back. Thomas Brooks and he were friends growing up as kids. They each took different paths, landed in big cities, and then oddly enough headed back home.
Both lives had come full circle out of necessity.
“Normally, I don’t like people poking around the body, Quinn, but since she’s a doctor, too, I’m okay with it. Besides, we wouldn’t have found that until after we washed her down.”
Quinn nodded.
“Did she keep the material she used to wash away the blood?” the coroner asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
His old friend leaned forward. “I can tell you right now that she’s worked cases like this before.” He started zipping the body into the black bag. “That’s not something you learn in med school. Not the one I went to anyway,” he added. “She’s familiar with a crime scene.”
Yeah, he already knew that from her not puking her guts up when she saw the dead body. Not many refined women could pull that off.
“How familiar?”
He shrugged. “Bigger than a small-town deal like us.”
That had Quinn thinking.
“The judge isn’t going to like this,” said the coroner, staring up at his friend.
“No, Tommy. I can’t say he will,” said Quinn, as Callie worked on Junior. “I’m on my way there next to give him the bad news.”
“Then, you better move fast, Sheriff. Word travels fast here, and you know it.” Before the man could move, he was talking again. “Hey, do you know if she’s available? I wouldn’t mind getting together with her and talking shop,” he said, checking out her legs in those shorts.
Quinton Gaines nearly had a stroke. It was bad enough his deputies were staring at her as if she was a big meaty bone, and now his coroner was too. While he could out maneuver the co-workers, Tommy was a smart man who probably had a hell of a lot more in common with Callie than he ever would.
“She’s not available,” he growled.
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