Chapter Twenty
Patrick and I arrived a few minutes early at the hematology clinic at St. Eugene’s hospital. A blonde ponytailed receptionist arranged files on her desk.
“May I help you?” she said and batted her fake eyelashes at Patrick in police uniform.
“Ms. Harber and I would like to speak with Dr. Fulthorpe,” Patrick said in a clear, firm voice.
“He should be in soon,” she said. “You’re welcome to wait for him.”
“Thank you,” Patrick said. The waiting room was empty, and we sat in the chairs closest to the entrance.
I shifted on the hard, cold plastic seat. The magazines on the table beside us were in disarray, so I straightened them into a neat pile. I kept glancing down the hallway we had emerged from.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I just don’t know what to expect, I guess.”
“Neither do I,” he said with a wink.
And just like that, in three words, he brought a smile to my face.
“Before I forget, I want to tell you I have to work late tonight. I’ll give you my house key,” he said.
“You don’t have to. I can stay at my place.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“You still don’t think it’s safe?”
“I don’t.”
“I actually need to pack a few more things. And I have to check for mail and water my plants.”
He shook his head.
“I promise I’ll be fast. I’ll go right after work when it’s still light out.”
One of his brows rose in a doubting expression, prompting me to convince him further.
“You can weaponize me. Lend me your baton, or stun gun.”
He thought for a second. “Pepper spray. I’ll give you a cylinder to use until I give you a shooting lesson.”
“Deal.”
“And check your front and back doors. Do not go in if they’ve been opened or tampered with. I’ll duck out and meet you there, if I can.”
“Check front and back doors. Gotcha, Officer.” Were these security measures all part of his job, or was he being overly protective of his woman? I hoped it was the latter, because if not, I was in more danger than I realized. Like a bad meal, that thought didn’t sit well with me.
About ten minutes had passed when patients started checking in and occupying seats around us.
“I wonder how much longer the doc will be,” Patrick said and looked at his watch.
“Maybe he’s delayed with rounds or something.”
“Possible,” Patrick said.
A man in a toque walked past us, sat a few chairs over, and unzipped his jacket. He peered at Patrick. The others in the waiting room stole glances as well.
I leaned closer to Patrick. “I think you’re drawing attention.”
“The uniform does that,” he whispered.
“Nah. I don’t think it’s the uniform.”
His mouth curved into the slightest smile, and he checked his wristwatch again.
“Should we have Dr. Fulthorpe paged?” I asked.
“That’s a good idea.”
Patrick had barely finished speaking when a man in a cream linen suit, matching hat, and shoulder bag walked briskly into the room and went to the front counter. He spoke with the receptionist and then turned to look at us.
“That might be him,” I said.
“Let’s find out,” Patrick said. We both stood and trekked to the reception desk. “Dr. Fulthorpe?”
“No, Dr. Gideon Crawford.”
The doctor’s heavy spicey cologne made my nose tingle.
“Do you know when Dr. Fulthorpe will be in?” Patrick said.
“It doesn’t look like he’ll be in today. Can I help you with anything?”
“Ms. Harber and I wanted to speak with him for a few minutes. Do you know why he won’t be in?”
“I’m assuming he needs time off.”
“Do you work with Dr. Fulthorpe?” Patrick pressed on.
“Yes. We’re co-owners of this center.”
“Can you call us if he shows up?” Patrick handed Dr. Crawford a business card.
Dr. Crawford glanced at the people sitting in the waiting area and lowered his speaking tone. “Would you like to tell me what this is about, Officer?”
“We are inquiring about a person of interest. We’ll keep trying to contact Dr. Fulthorpe. Thank you for your time.”
“Very well, Officer, Ms. Harber.”
Dr. Crawford walked away, and I sprang forward to catch up with him. “Dr. Crawford, do you, by any chance, have a business card? In case we need to contact you?”
He stopped. “Of course,” he said and pulled a card from the side pocket of his bag. “I’ll write my cell number as well.” He took a shiny gold pen from his shirt pocket, scribbled numbers on the back, and then handed it to me.
“Thank you very much.”
Dr. Crawford moved his lips into a smile that looked forced.
“One more question, Doctor, if you don’t mind,” Patrick said.
“I don’t mind, but patients are waiting. What would you like to know?”
“Has Dr. Fulthorpe ever not showed up for a clinic?”
Dr. Crawford’s eyes darted. “Not that I recall.”
“Thank you for your time. We won’t keep you,” Patrick said.
“Good luck with your case,” the physician said and scanned his badge to unlock the door to his office.
Patrick and I headed out of the waiting area and strolled down the corridor.
“Where the heck is Dr. Fulthorpe?” I said.
“Good question. I’ll try to contact him this afternoon. What did you think of Crawford?”
“He seemed very curious about what we were there for. And his cologne almost knocked me over,” I said. “So much for the scent-free policy. I guess rules don’t apply to doctors.”
Patrick chuckled as he opened the door. We stepped outside into the early sunlight and headed to his squad car. He drove me to work and walked me to the lab.
“Will you be okay finding your own way to your duplex?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Be careful. Scout out your property and apartment.” He opened a snap on his belt and removed a narrow cylindrical can. “Here, take this with you.”
“Pepper spray? I thought you were kidding.” I took it from him and slid it into my purse.
His concern warmed the intangible part of my heart. With him, I didn’t sense any danger, which perhaps wasn’t a good thing. But it showed how much I trusted him.
He kissed me on the cheek.
“Have a good day,” I said.
“It’ll be a long one without you,” he said softly.
I smiled at him before I entered the lab but sobered when I saw all the new sample bags piled on the bench top. Vinny sat at a computer with his back to me, Edward pipetted solution into rows of gel wells, and Lara was speaking to someone on the phone. The room hummed with the sounds of the overhead exhaust, the high-capacity centrifuges, and the DNA sequencing machines. No one seemed to notice me until Lara turned and hung up the phone.
“Hi, June,” she said as I buttoned up my lab coat. “It’s great to see you.”
“You, too. What do you want me to do first?”
“Good morning, June,” Edward said.
Vinny looked back and waved.
“Hi, guys,” I said.
Lara shut off the centrifuge. “June, if you don’t mind, you can add fluorescent label to that run.”
“Sure,” I said and retrieved the reagent bottles from the refrigerator.
Vinny stood from his computer and came over. “Good news, June. The DNA results from your case will be ready today. They’re on the analyzer now.”
“That is great,” I said. “Thanks for rushing them.” My stomach fluttered. The sooner they found the killer, the better and safer for everyone.
“No problem,” Edward said as he came over and reached for some papers on the counter. “A perk of the job. Besides, working with a dream team.”
Lara snickered and rolled her eyes. “June, did you hear we’ve hired another lab tech? Our so-called dream team is increasing by one.”
“That’s fantastic,” I said.
“Yeah,” Lara said. “And you may know her. She used to work at St. Eugene’s.”
I dropped onto a stool beside me. They had hired someone I used to work with?
Oh, God, please don’t let it be Victoria.