He arched an eyebrow. “Let you? Last time I checked, I only still have a hand because my reflexes are impressive and I didn’t manage to steal one of your pancakes.”
Maddie made a face. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.” She rubbed her stomach. “I ate too much. I think it was that second order of sausage.”
“It could also have been the second round of pancakes. You ate two full breakfasts this morning ... and had two full glasses of juice.”
“I told you your offspring was a glutton.”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “That’s my fault, too, huh?”
“You know it.” She heaved out a sigh and shifted. “Rub my stomach.”
Because he couldn’t hold out in the face of her misery, even though she’d done it to herself, he acquiesced to her demands and started rubbing. “Better?”
“You make everything better.”
His heart melted as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and continued rubbing. “I think we need to start with the crib, Mad. I know you’re fairly certain you want the one you saw online, but it doesn’t make sense to buy any other furniture until we order that crib, and to order it you need to see it in person.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.” Maddie absently grabbed a brochure from the stand next to her and fanned her face. “That crib is expensive. Maybe I should pick something cheaper.”
He studied her a beat, his expression impassive. “Why?” he asked finally.
She shrugged, averting her gaze. “I don’t know. It just makes sense.”
“Well, I don’t think it does. That’s the crib you like. Besides, we’ve both agreed it’s likely we’re having more than one child. We need to get this one out and take care of it for a bit to make sure we’re up to the task, but eventually there will be another baby. It’s not as if the crib will only be used once.”
“That’s true.” Maddie rubbed her cheek and then stared at the brochure, her eyes going wide when she realized what she was looking at. “It’s Dr. Morton.”
“Hmm.” Nick gave the brochure a cursory gaze. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a brochure touting his practice.” She pointed to his photo on front of the brochure. “When I knew him he was making a name for himself in the Detroit area. He obviously decided to move up here at some point and start his own practice. His office is actually located about two blocks away from the crib store according to the map on the back of this thing.”
Nick’s lip curled. “You want to stop by his office, don’t you?”
She shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. I mean ... it’s not our case. I can’t help feeling involved, though.”
“Man.” Nick let out a sigh. “How about if we come to a compromise?” he suggested. “We’ll stop in at Morton’s office — it’s likely closed anyway — and then you pick a crib so we get the biggest hurdle out of the way.”
She nodded, not missing a beat. “Yeah, and then we can get ice cream.”
He continued rubbing her stomach. “You just said you ate too much.”
“Yes, but I won’t feel that way in a few hours.”
He threw up his hands, defeated. “And then we’ll get ice cream.”
She grinned at him. “You’re the best husband ever.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
MUCH TO NICK’S SURPRISE, THE OFFICE WAS not only open but manned by a frazzled secretary who looked to have taken at least twenty flower deliveries over the course of the morning.
“I guess the word is out,” Maddie noted as she took in the various vases and baskets.
“I guess so.” Nick smiled at the woman behind the counter as he approached. He’d been so convinced nobody would be there that he had no idea what to say. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to think of a handy lie because Maddie took control of the conversation.
“Janice?”
The woman snapped up her head, her eyes narrowing as she looked Maddie up and down. Then recognition dawned and she broke into a wide smile. “Maddie Graves? Holy ... .” She got to her feet and walked around the desk, exuberantly throwing her arms around Maddie’s neck. “I never thought I would see you again when you left the hospital. Are you back in the area? Looking for a job? I don’t think we have anything here — the boss died last night in some weird cemetery thing so I’ll likely be looking for a job, too — but I bet you can find something if you ask around.”
Even though it was a serious situation, Maddie found herself smiling. She remembered Janice as the chatty sort, and obviously that hadn’t changed. “I’m not looking for a job. I’m actually only here to do some shopping.”
“For baby stuff,” Nick volunteered.
Janice’s eyes slowly traced to him. “And hello, Gorgeous. Who might you be?”
Nick’s smile was friendly without being flirty. “Nick Winters. I’m Maddie’s husband.”
“Get out.” Janice lightly slapped Maddie’s arm. “Girlfriend, is this what you went home for? I thought you were heading back to take care of your grandmother.”
“I was. I found him along the way.” Maddie’s smile was soft. “We got married a few months ago and we’re actually having a baby.”
Janice’s eyes moved to Maddie’s waist and she shook her head. “You can’t even tell. It always drove me nuts that you could eat your weight in chocolate and not put on an ounce and if I even looked at a piece of cake I gained twenty pounds. Of course, you ran five miles a day and took those weird stretching classes.”
“Yoga,” Maddie said automatically.
“Girl, it’s just stretching.”
Maddie had forgotten how much she hated being called “girl” until right that moment. Still, she pushed away her agitation. “We were on the cemetery tour last night when Dr. Morton’s body was found. We decided to stop by to give our condolences. I was shocked when I found out it was him. I didn’t even realize you guys had moved to this area.”
“He offered me a job when he was leaving,” Janice explained, lodging a hip on the corner of her desk. “I was anxious to get out of Detroit so we came out here almost two years ago I guess. It was right after you left, so it’s almost the same timeframe.”
“Well, it’s a nice office.” Maddie glanced around at the sterile environment, and not for the first time, thanked her lucky stars that she’d gotten out of the medical field. She admired anyone who could dedicate his or her life to helping others, but the deaths and sadness had started weighing heavily on her at the end. Of course, a plastic surgeon wouldn’t see that side of things as often.
“Were you really with the group who found him?” Janice queried.
Maddie nodded. “Yeah. It looks like someone stabbed him. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt him?”
“No, but I’m guessing the cops are going to be around asking the same questions, huh?”
“That would be my guess,” Nick confirmed. “Are you saying Dr. Morton never had a surgery go wrong his entire time here? That seems ... lucky.”
“Oh, he had a few go wrong. He always fixed them free of charge, though. There was one woman — what was her name again? — she got a boob job and was unhappy with it. Honestly, she was warned the implants she wanted were too big for her frame, but she went through with it anyway.
“She had Pamela Anderson boobs, Girl,” she continued. “Before the surgery she weighed like a hundred and five pounds. After, she was twenty pounds heavier and it was all boobs I swear. She was furious, said she looked like some pervert’s version of a sex doll.
“She wasn’t wrong and when Dr. Morton offered to go in and make them smaller she melted down. She wanted the boobs to be that size but somehow not look that size. When he told her that she would have to make a choice, she completely freaked out.”
“Did she threaten him?” Nick asked curiously.
“Oh, she threatened him a million times. I heard her husband divorced her over those boobs, too. She made a big stink about it in the office one day, threat
ening to sue the doctor because of the divorce. We knew she had no case, though.”
To Nick, the woman sounded like an intriguing prospect. “And you don’t remember her name?”
“Um ... Cady Barton. I’m pretty sure that was her name. I remember because her last name rhymed with Parton and there were a few Dolly jokes thrown in back then.”
“I can see that.”
“Right?” Janice’s eyes moved back to Maddie. “Girl, you’ve got to catch me up on your life. How did you end up with this hunk of a man?”
“Just luck,” Maddie lied.
“Fate,” Nick corrected. “We were always meant to end up here.”
“And he’s romantic, too,” Janice cooed. “I want to hear absolutely everything. Start at the beginning.”
6
Six
Jared started out the day with a bowl of cereal and Harper. Zander was the cook in their happy foursome, but there were mornings Jared was perfectly content to eat Cookie Crisp and have a quiet conversation with his soulmate. This was one of those mornings.
“I had eggs, hash browns, and two servings of bacon for breakfast,” Mel announced as he met Jared outside the police station. He looked proud of himself.
“I had Cookie Crisp and ten kisses.”
Mel rolled his eyes. “You only care about the kisses because you’re in that loved-up faze of your relationship. Once you get married, the sheen will dim.”
“The sheen is never dimming for us. What else do you have?”
“I talked to the secretary,” Mel replied, turning serious. “She’s a chatterbox who doesn’t seem all that broken up about her boss dying.”
Jared was intrigued despite himself. “Do you think she killed him?”
“It seems unlikely. I’ve got feelers out to Morton’s estate people. I want to see who inherits. As a doctor — one who caters to those who can afford nips, tucks, and lifts — he’s bound to be worth a pretty penny. They haven’t responded yet.”
“That’s not unheard of,” Jared noted as they moved toward Mel’s cruiser. “Estate planners tend to get all their ducks in a row before worrying about what we need.”
“True, but their client was clearly murdered. I’m thinking that means they need our help to decide who can inherit since you can’t benefit from someone you’ve killed.”
“Good point.” Jared hopped into the passenger seat and aimed the nearest vents directly at his face as Mel fired up the engine. “Did the secretary give you a vibe like they were having an affair or anything?”
“Not really. She was chatty, together. She didn’t act gleeful or anything. It was more that she had one of those gossipy vibes, if you know what I mean. She wanted any dirt I could give her — which is precious little at this point — but she was helpful otherwise.”
“What about patients with an axe to grind?”
“I asked. She told me a story about a woman named Cady Barton. Apparently she has boobs the size of the Titanic and they crashed her marriage just as hard. As for other potential problems, I have her combing through the client list for people who might be upset. We might find ourselves banging into patient privilege at some point but, for now, the biggest standout is this Cady woman.”
Jared was still trying to wrap his head around “boobs the size of the Titanic.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mel said on a sly smile. “I’m curious about the boobs, too. Janice — that’s the secretary’s name — said that she wanted big boobs but didn’t want them to look like they were overshadowing her frame. Since there was no fix to what she wanted, she left unhappy.
“Then, supposedly, a few months later Cady came running into the office threatening the doctor if he didn’t fix her boobs so they were exactly how she wanted that she was going to go on talk shows and tell everyone that he’d ruined her marriage.”
“She sounds like a real piece of work,” Jared noted. “I am curious how a botched boob job ends a marriage, though.”
“I’m guessing there were problems in the marriage before the boobs became an issue. It makes a strange sort of sense that she might want to spiff up the look because she thought that would garner the husband’s attention. Either way, she’s first on our list.”
“I’m guessing she’ll be thrilled to see us.”
“I’m guessing the opposite, but never say never.”
CADY BARTON WAS DIMINUTIVE IN SIZE BUT A SOLID ten on the loud meter.
“He’s dead?” She looked positively apoplectic as she stood at her front door and absorbed the news. “He can’t be dead. He hasn’t fixed these yet.” She gestured toward what could easily be mistaken as airplane flotation devices, which just so happened to be perched on her chest. “These have to be fixed.”
Jared couldn’t help but agree. He’d never considered himself a breast man. In truth, Harper’s eyes were the first thing that drew him in. Her body was fantastic — lithe, trim, and soft in all the right places — but it was her eyes and smile that always got to him. What Cady had going for her was something he never thought he would see in real life.
“And ... how did you come by those?” he asked as he tried to regroup.
Cady’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Eyes up here!” She snapped her fingers in Jared’s face to get his attention.
Embarrassed, horrified, Jared forced himself to stare at the woman’s pinched features. She looked furious, and he honestly couldn’t blame her. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he reassured her, grasping for the right way to ask the obvious question. “We’re just trying to get a feel for exactly what went down between you and Dr. Morton.”
“A feel? Try feeling these.” Cady gripped her ample bosom and gave it a good shake. “These things are as hard as rocks and completely unnatural. I hate them. They’re an albatross around my neck.”
“Kind of literally,” Mel muttered under his breath and then shook himself out of his reverie. “I mean ... they’re interesting.”
Jared shot his partner a horrified look. “He didn’t mean that.”
“Oh, calm down.” Cady rolled her eyes and gestured for them to follow her into the kitchen. “I get it. You can’t look away. They’re mesmerizing. It’s as if they need their own ZIP code.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Jared hedged. “Um ... perhaps you should start from the beginning and run us through your interactions with Dr. Morton.”
“Sure.” Cady moved to the coffee pot on the counter. “Basically, once I hit thirty, I decided I wanted to do a little something for my self-esteem. I’ve always had small breasts — like those bitty ones that size zero models are so proud of — and I thought what I needed to slide gracefully into my thirties was new boobs.
“I talked to my husband about it,” she continued. “I’m sure you know by now that we’re divorced. At the time, though, we were getting along fine. So I asked Darren what he thought about me getting new boobs. He did the ‘I love you just as you are’ thing at first, but when I kept on him about it, just like I expected, he was all for the surgery.
“I did a lot of research. I looked into doctors and spent a lot of time deciding how big I wanted to go. When I met with Dr. Morton, I had a clear plan and I told him exactly what I wanted.”
“Did he explain there might be issues with the size you selected?” Jared asked. He was determined to keep his eyes on the woman’s face. It wasn’t as if her breasts enticed him. It was more like standing in the shadow of a house fire and not looking but still feeling the heat. It took everything he had to be professional.
“He did, but I’ve seen people he’s done work on. They look ten times better than me. I think he just mailed it in for me. He kept trying to tell me that if I went down a few cup sizes, because of my height, I would look bigger. Do you believe that?”
Actually, it made sense to Jared. “I take it you didn’t want to go that route.”
“No. I stuck to my guns.”
“Did you express your dissati
sfaction immediately after the surgery?” Mel queried.
“Um ... I actually think it took about a week for me to realize exactly what I was dealing with,” she explained. “At first I thought they were just swollen, that they would go down in size ... and they did a little. They were nowhere near as swollen as I thought they were, though.”
“And what did your husband say?”
“He laughed at me. He said they looked stupid and he didn’t even want to touch them. I tried to talk to him, but he refused to even give it a try. Then, four weeks after the surgery, he served me with divorce papers. I went on a shopping weekend to Chicago with some girlfriends and when I came back he was already moved out of the house. He left divorce papers on the counter and had me served on top of that.”
“That’s probably because he had to have a record that you received them,” Jared mused, rolling his neck. The entire thing baffled him. “Did he tell you he left because of the surgery?”
“No. He wouldn’t give me a reason. He kept saying we weren’t compatible. I knew better than that, though. We were happy until these.” She grabbed her breasts again.
“What did Dr. Morton say when you complained?” Mel asked. “I mean ... he must’ve understood your concerns.”
“He acted like he did, but he wouldn’t do anything. I wanted implants that were the same size but looked better. He said I couldn’t have what I wanted unless I got smaller implants. I threatened to sue him, but he refused to back down.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“It was a few weeks ago. I was trying to find a good lawyer during that time. Now that he’s dead, I suppose I’m out of luck.”
“You can still sue his estate if you wish,” Jared replied. “It might take a while for all that to be sorted out, though.”
“Of course.” Cady rolled her eyes. “That’s the story of my life.”
“Just for the record, can you tell us where you were yesterday?” Mel queried.
“All day?”
Ghostly Graves: A Harper Harlow and Maddie Graves Mystery Page 6