In Close Quarters. Candace Irvin
hospital, I was given the option of taking two weeks’ leave. I was considering it when I picked up the stack of paperwork already waiting for me in my in-box.” She nodded toward the note. “That was inside the stack. I made up my mind to take the leave when I read it.”
“Why?”
She glanced up, startled. “Why what?”
“Why would you need the time? I know you, Cariño. You are not one to conceal something such as this. There is more.”
“Excuse me? You don’t know the first thing about me.”
She was wrong. But now was not the time to upset her further by arguing. He simply inclined his head—and let her read the motion how she would.
She slumped back in her chair. “This is all so frustrating. I never should have chickened out. I should have marched into Dr. Manning’s office and shown him the note as soon as I read it.”
Dr. Manning again.
Though he knew full well who this man was, he was not supposed to. “Dr. Manning?”
“The head of anesthesiology.”
“And why did you not show him the note?”
“Because I wasn’t looking forward to kissing my career goodbye so soon into starting it.”
Now he was confused. Unwilling to juggle the mug a moment longer, he set it on the table next to the note and leaned toward her. “I do not understand. Why would your career be over? You know as well as I this cannot affect you, because you are not involved.” He was certain of this. Stealing surgical opiates was not in her nature.
Her lips curved—briefly. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Agent Vásquez, but I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that. Actually—” a slight, but unmistakable wince “—it’s a lot more complicated.”
He waited as she reached for her mug, suppressing a wince of his own as she took a sip. At best, it was lukewarm by now. His was. She drained the rest, anyway.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of three strikes you’re out?”
“Sí.”
“Well, I don’t know about the DEA, but in the Navy you only get two—and I’ve already got one.”
Again, he waited.
Finally he was rewarded with a shrug.
“About a year ago I was asked out by one of the lieutenants at the hospital. I admit, I was leery. He wasn’t a doctor, so I wasn’t sure he’d understand that my schedule as the USS Baddager’s doctor came first. But he assured me he did, so I accepted.”
TJ retrieved his mug, if only to give himself something to hold as he prompted her about dating another man. “What happened?”
“You know, I’m still not really sure. We went out a few times, and while he seemed nice enough, it just didn’t click. At least, not for me. Anyway, I decided to break it off. I invited him over for dinner, thinking it would be better to tell him in private.” She frowned. “In retrospect, it wasn’t a bright idea.”
“Why is this?”
“Let’s just say, he didn’t take it well.” Something new and dark entered her eyes and caused his blood to run cold. She masked it quickly, but he had already seen it.
“Cariño, tell me this man did not—”
She shook her head sharply. “No, nothing like that.”
“Then what? What did this man do?”
“He didn’t do anything. It was more of a suggestion. Hell, at first I thought he was joking. But he wasn’t.” She paused for a moment, then took a deep breath before focusing her stare somewhere past his left shoulder. “He suggested a trade of sorts. My…favors…in exchange for his help in securing a slot for myself in the next class of anesthesiology residents.”
“And when you told him no?”
Her gaze snapped to his.
TJ refused to dignify her surprise over his certainty with a comment.
“He left,” she replied.
Gracias a Dios. He eased out the breath he had not known he had been holding. “I still do not understand. His offer, how could this mark your record? Especially since he left once you refused.”
“Because that wasn’t the end of it.”
He set his mug down. Carefully.
She shrugged. “Maybe he was afraid I’d squeal, or maybe he just wanted to get even, I don’t know. All I do know is he stopped by Dr. Manning’s office the next morning and confessed that one of the residency applicants had invited him over for dinner, and that she’d tried to use sex to ensure her slot in the class.”
TJ sucked in his breath as he shot to his feet and strode to the windows. He stared at the string of palm trees lining the kidney-shaped pool ten stories below as he worked to control his growing fury. It was useless. His blood was no longer running cold. It was hot. Searing. And there was but one way to cool it. He would find this man who had slandered his woman and wrap his hands about the bastard’s neck until he no longer breathed. TJ locked his stare on the pool, certain that if he turned, all the undercover skills in the world would not keep her from reading the intent in his heart.
“Who?”
“I don’t understand—”
“Who did this to you?”
“Why? I doubt you know him, even if you are DEA.”
“Who?”
He heard her sigh. “His name is Doug Callahan. He’s the hospital’s—” She broke off again as he whirled about.
It mattered not. She was wrong.
He did know this man. He knew the name, anyway. As he should. In fact, he would say he knew Doug Callahan exceedingly well—considering he had spent the better part of the afternoon studying the man’s official military record. But apparently there were a few assessments missing from his officer fitness evaluations. For not only was Lt. Callahan a first-rate pharmacist, he was a first-rate bastard, as well.
But this was not all.
Doug Callahan had just become his number-one suspect.
Chapter 3
Karin stepped out of her car, smoothed the skirt to her Navy whites and snagged her briefcase off the leather seat before slamming the door. TJ would be furious if he knew where she was and what she was about to do.
Too bad. It was her career, not his.
So what if she’d agreed to let him nose around?
Yes, as a DEA agent, he could backdoor the hospital’s records. Yes, he could check with the distributors and see if the pharmacy had been ordering an unusually high number of narcotics. He could even discover which types. If the right numbers had gone up, they’d know there was truth to the note she’d received. That it wasn’t a joke or another nasty link in Doug’s chain of petty revenge.
But it was a joke.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized it had to be. In fact, she’d lay odds Doug was rubbing his grimy paws together in anticipation right now. He’d probably slipped the note into her paperwork, hoping she’d run to Dr. Manning the moment she read it, screaming the sky was falling. Doug knew better than anyone that when they combed his pharmacy records and found nothing amiss, she’d come off worse than Chicken Little—more like a big fat sitting duck. And that’s when he’d take aim and blow her career right out of the water.
Well, she sure wasn’t handing him the gun.
Not when she could do something about