A Doctor-Nurse Encounter. Carol Ericson
hovered at the entrance to the short hallway, which branched into a bedroom, a bathroom and a closet, its door gaping open. She had a clear view of the bathroom and the orange tabby meowing on the tattered bath rug. The bedroom door stood ajar, an almost palpable menace oozing from its interior. Still her feet carried her forward. The door whined on its hinges as Lacey pushed it open.
Jill’s body lay sprawled across the bed, the chintz coverlet clutched in one fist, her eyes bulging from their sockets. Discoloration marked her neck, and her other hand lay across her breast, fingers inches from her throat and the silver chain she always wore.
Lacey brought one of her own fists to her mouth and pressed it against her lips as sour bile rose up her gut. She inched toward the bed and crouched beside it, careful not to disturb anything around Jill’s body. Just like she did in Dr. B’s office, Lacey felt for a pulse…and got the same result.
An intake of breath behind her stirred her hair, and a scream gathered in her lungs. Before the scream escaped her lips, a large hand clamped over her mouth, pressing the back of her head against a solid thigh.
She twisted her head and bit the hand that held her captive. The hand dropped, and she spun around on her knees, ready to launch out of the room when the intruder grabbed her arm.
“Lacey, it’s me.”
Her gaze flew to the stranger’s face, only he wasn’t a stranger at all. Dr. Perfect’s perfect features were gathered in a scowl as he sucked on his hand.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She jumped up to face him. “Jill’s dead, and you’re creeping around her apartment?”
“Shhh.” He gripped her shoulders, his fingers biting through her jacket into her flesh. “I’m not creeping around her apartment. I just got here.”
“So your first instinct is to sneak up behind me and clap your hand over my mouth?” She wrenched out of his grasp. “Why are you here?”
“That’s not important right now. What happened?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She spread her arms to encompass the disheveled bedroom. “The killer found Jill and murdered her, just like Dr. B, just like Debbie.”
Rocking back, she covered her face as the enormity of the situation hit her square in the jaw. Nick engulfed her in an embrace, and her head fell all too easily against his shoulder. His arms tightened around her as he rested his chin on top of her head. He smelled like soap and toothpaste and comfort.
She rubbed her nose against his denim shirt, leaving a wet smudge, and looked up into his face. “We have to call the police.”
“No!” His body stiffened. “Not yet.”
“What’s your problem?” She narrowed her eyes, pulling back from the reassurance of his arms. “At the very least, we have to get out of here. What if the killer comes back?”
“Let him try.” Nick lifted his shirt to reveal a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
“Have you lost your mind?” She stumbled back, her legs wedging against Jill’s bed, all sense of comfort gobbled up by a wave of panic. “Why do you have a gun? Why are you even here?”
He closed his eyes and brushed a lock of dark hair back from his forehead. Blowing out a breath, he straightened his shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“I’m here to save my brother’s life.”
Chapter Four
Confusion and mistrust mingled in Lacey’s face. Her words about her father at lunch hinted at her low opinion of doctors. Nick had to work twice as hard to win her trust, and he knew instinctively the charm he tried diligently to cultivate for the phony life he led wouldn’t do the job. Honesty and sincerity would win the day with Lacey Kirk, but he had very little of those qualities to share right now.
“What does your brother have to do with any of this?” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if creating a barrier to her heart, as if to guard her sympathy from phony sob stories.
He rubbed her unyielding shoulder, resisting an urge to take her in his arms again. It felt good having her there…too good. It had been years since he’d experienced any real emotion with a woman. He couldn’t afford it ever since his brother went on the run. And even before that.
“Let’s discuss this elsewhere.” Although Lacey’s feet seemed rooted to the carpet, Nick propelled her out of the bedroom and into Jill’s Spartan living room. The woman lived as if ready to take flight at a moment’s notice.
“Start discussing—” Lacey plucked a cell phone out of the purse hanging from her shoulder and smacked it against her palm “—because I’m about thirty seconds away from calling the cops.”
Charm definitely wouldn’t work with Lacey. He rubbed his chin. “My brother’s the real target. Dr. Buonfoglio did some work on him. I think this killer is after the doctor’s files to get information on my brother’s changed identity and his whereabouts.”
“I take it your brother isn’t some actor who wants to keep his face-lift a secret, is he?” With her green eyes narrowed to slits, she resembled that cat washing itself in the bathroom.
“No.” He planned to keep this short and simple.
“Why did Dr. B change your brother’s face? Is your brother a bad person, a criminal?”
“He’s made some bad choices, but he doesn’t deserve to die for them. The people after him are worse.”
“Does he owe them money?”
“Something like that.” His brother’s involvement with the De Luca Family went deeper than money, but the less she knew the better. He didn’t want to explain how much he owed his brother, how his brother had saved his life and what it cost him to do it.
She turned and paced, but at least she no longer seemed poised for flight and she’d dropped the cell phone back in her purse.
He held his breath, waiting for the next question. Lacey had too much intelligence and integrity to accept his explanation at face value without further interrogation. He could almost hear her brain clicking as she worked through his story.
Hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans, she stopped in front of him. “You’re a cosmetic surgeon, why didn’t your brother come to you?”
“He did come to me…for a referral. He didn’t want to involve me.” He’d begged T.J. to let him do the surgery, but his brother refused. Maybe T.J. knew the day would come when the De Lucas discovered he’d altered his face, and he didn’t want his kid brother in the line of fire…even though T.J. had stepped into the line of fire for him.
“So you referred him to Dr. B? You dragged Dr. B into this mess?” She hunched her shoulders, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “You killed him.”
Combing his hands through his hair, he sighed. He didn’t want to get into all this. They didn’t have time, but before he enlisted Lacey’s help he had to convince her he deserved it.
“Lacey, Dr. B was already involved in this mess.” He plucked her hand out of her pocket and rubbed his thumb in the center of her palm. “I referred my brother to Dr. Buonfoglio precisely because I knew he did that kind of work.”
Her hand jerked in his. “Dr. B changed criminals’ faces? Why? Why would he do something like that?”
“For Abby. He did it for Abby.” He felt like scum playing the sympathy card, but he had to get through to her. One thing he’d discovered about Lacey Kirk was if she deemed you worthy, she’d brave the fires of hell to help you.
Shaking her head, she blinked her eyes. “What do you know about Dr. B’s daughter?”
“I know it’s expensive to keep her in that group home.”
“Oh,