A Doctor-Nurse Encounter. Carol Ericson
“Dr. B has a surgery tomorrow.”
“You can refer the patient to me. In fact, you can refer all of his patients to me for now.” Nick stood up and massaged his left shoulder. He’d convinced the paramedics he didn’t need to go to the hospital, but he could use some painkillers and a good night’s sleep.
“I didn’t realize you needed the work.” Lacey skewered him with a sideways glance.
He must’ve done her wrong in a past life or something. Should he even bother to remedy her low opinion of him? He shrugged. “Just trying to help out.”
“Thanks.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “But this particular patient tomorrow is top secret.”
“Huh?” Her words punched him in the gut. Dr. Buonfoglio had top-secret patients? Seems the good doctor still played with fire…probably why he had a gun.
“You know, celebrities, politicians. You don’t have the corner on that market yet, Dr. Per…Marino.”
He raised his eyebrows, but her words untied the knot in his belly. That explained the “secret patients.” All cosmetic surgeons had them. “It’s Marino, not Per-Marino.”
A pink tide ebbed into her cheeks as she covered her mouth with her hand. “I know that.”
Nailed her.
She turned to the detective. “Detective Chu, should I notify Dr. B’s surgical nurses? His bookkeeper works off-site. I should notify her, too.”
“You need to give us those names and addresses, and we’ll notify them. We have to interview them, anyway. Do you want an officer to accompany you to your car?”
“I’ll walk her down.” Nick stepped forward. “Get those names for Detective Chu while I pick up a few things from my office.”
Her eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut for a change. Seems his take-charge attitude could overwhelm even Lacey Kirk, Nurse Know-It-All. He’d developed that attitude years ago, even before he became a doctor. It was an essential component in keeping things from spinning out of control.
By the time he got back, Lacey was waiting for him, clutching her blood-stained shirt in her hand.
“I’ll replace that for you.”
“This?” She waved it in front of her. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a Target special.”
He draped his suit jacket over his arm and gestured her ahead of him into the hallway.
Her gaze dropped to the Armani jacket, and then meandered up his silk tie and tailored shirt, now ripped and smudged with blood.
“I suppose you didn’t realize Target even had a clothing line, did you?”
Definite porcupine. He grabbed her arm and lied. “Yes, I did know that. Is the SFPD going to lock up Dr. Buonfoglio’s office?”
“Yeah.” She shook him off. “They’re putting one of those lock boxes on the door, like Realtors use. A cop’s going to be waiting for me tomorrow to unlock it when I come in to check things out and notify Dr. B’s patients.”
When they got into the elevator, Lacey leaned her forehead against the wall, her shoulders slumping. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“Dr. Buonfoglio was a good man and a good doctor. He’ll be missed.” He rubbed her back, and although she stiffened beneath his touch, she didn’t pull away.
The elevator landed on the second floor of the parking garage, and the doors rumbled open. Empty stalls yawned before them, and Lacey’s heels resounded through the cavernous lot.
Her small red Jetta stood alone in one row. Lacey took out her keys, and the Jetta’s lights flashed once.
“What’s this? Did I get a ticket for being in the parking structure too long?” She strode ahead of him and plucked a piece of paper from beneath her windshield wipers.
Holding the scrap of paper in her hands, she glanced back at Nick, her mouth dropping open. “D-do you think he left this?”
His stride devoured the space between them, and with a muscle ticking in his jaw, he snatched the paper from her hand.
Two circles with dots in the middle, resembling a pair of eyes, stared back at him. The blood pounded in his head, his wound beneath the paramedics’ expert bandage throbbing with each beat. He crushed the piece of paper in his fist.
They’d come back.
They meant business.
And they wanted his brother.
Chapter Two
“Nick?” She ran her fingers over his white knuckles. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”
He jerked his head up, his dark eyes focusing on her face, as if he’d been in a place far away.
“I’m okay. Just felt a little dizzy.” He unwrapped the crumpled piece of paper and smoothed it out on the hood of her car.
“Do you think it’s a message from the man who murdered Dr. B? I know this paper wasn’t on my car when I came down here before.” Her gaze slid to the circles, and a chill snaked up her spine.
“It could be.”
His color had returned to its normal olive complexion, but his tight jaw signaled some distress. The stubborn oaf should’ve let the paramedics take him to the hospital. Doctors always thought they knew better than every other medical professional…especially Dr. Perfect.
To keep from smoothing her hands across his worried brow, she slid the piece of paper from beneath his hand and lifted it between two fingers. “Looks like eyes. Do you think that means he’s watching me?”
She looked over her shoulder, peering into the dimly lit recesses of the parking garage. Her heart fluttered, and she tried to beat back the fear. She’d never lived her life in fear, even when her dad left the family, and she didn’t intend to start now.
“How’d he pick out my car, anyway?” She rolled her shoulders. “Maybe this is just a coincidence, a joke.”
“It’s not hard to figure out.” Nick pointed to the office-suite numbers painted on her parking space and the two empty ones beside her car. “Yours is the only car here, and even if the guy doesn’t know that the doctors park on the first level, I don’t know many doctors who drive Jettas.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a snob. Even in times of crisis, you don’t forget the medical hierarchy.”
He slammed his fist on the roof of her car. “Can you forget your own insecurities for two seconds while we work this through?”
She swallowed. The suave Dr. Perfect just morphed into this Nick Marino character with flashing dark eyes and a hard jaw. Like steel encased in velvet. It suddenly became clear why nobody messed with him at the hospital. Apparently, he possessed weapons other than charm in his arsenal of persuasion.
“Sure, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He rubbed his eyes and dragged his long fingers through thick, dark hair. “You’ve been through a lot today, and I’m standing here yelling at you.”
He opened her car door for her and nudged her back. “Go home and get some rest. Do you still have the Xanax I gave you? Take one.”
“What about this?” She waved the paper in his face. “Shouldn’t we tell Detective Chu about this?”
“I’ll go back up to the office and give it to him. The guy may have done it to scare you. Detective Chu’s probably right. He’s a drug addict hopped up on something.”
“I hope so.” She hugged herself, pulling her sweater tight. “I’m no threat to him. I can’t identify