Chapter 9
9
Cora sat hunched over the microscope on the lab counter, stopping occasionally to type notes on her laptop. She leaned back and stretched her back, groaning both in pain and relief.
Janice walked in after sterilizing the autopsy room. “You must be stiff, Cora. We need taller chairs… or lower tables… or…”
“How about hospital massages?” Cora joked.
Janice’s eyes brightened as a smile spread over her face. “Oh my God. Wouldn’t that be amazing?” She squinted her eyes closed and relaxed her shoulders. “I can feel it now. Weekly massages for all of us who have to lean over tables.” Her eyes popped open, and she rushed, “Honestly, you do that more than anyone! Probably more than anyone in the hospital!”
“I’m not sure about that. The surgeons must work bent over live patients while watching the clock to ensure everything is done properly and concisely.”
“Yes, but you spend so much time running tests and looking at evidence besides the arduous task of the autopsies, which are at least two hours and sometimes twice that long!”
Cora laughed at Janice’s indignant defense. “While I appreciate you looking out for me, I think it’s a moot point since hospital massages aren’t being offered.”
Janice sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Yeah, you’re right.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s almost time for my shift to end. I noticed there are no autopsies on the board for tomorrow. Maybe it will stay that way.”
“It would be nice not to get called in,” Cora muttered, itching to get back to her analysis. “I’ll say goodbye. I want to finish what I’m doing before I leave. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend.”
Janice waved, and as soon as she left, Cora returned to her microscope. She had run several tests, but some numbers didn’t add up. A headache was blooming, and she decided that the tests could wait. No one was waiting on the results… just her natural curiosity. She pulled off her lab coat and hung it on the back of the door to her small office. Waving goodbye to the evening staff who would handle any bodies that might come in that night, she hoped she could make it all weekend without getting called into the hospital or a death in the community that might be deemed a crime scene.
The drive home felt lighter than usual, her thoughts drifting to the two cats eagerly awaiting her return. A grin tugged at her lips. She’d never had anything—or anyone—waiting for her at home before. The novelty of it filled her with a giddy anticipation she relished more than she cared to admit.
Pushing open the front door, she called out, “Max? Mia?” The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator. She tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter and entered the living room. Her heart swelled at the sight of Max and Mia curled up together on the sofa.
“Hi, guys,” she gushed, dropping to her knees beside the couch.
Wide eyes greeted her, wary and ready to bolt, but the tension melted when her fingers scratched their heads. A symphony of purrs filled the room, their velvety fur warm beneath her touch. They stood, leaning into her hands, demanding more attention. She laughed softly. “Come on, let’s get dinner.”
Standing, she glanced back to see if they’d follow, and sure enough, the soft patter of paws trailed her into the kitchen. Kneeling, she gathered their dishes, grinning as they swirled around her legs in eager figure eights. She’d left some dry food out for them during the day, but their enthusiasm made it clear they were ready for the good stuff. Opening a can of soft food, she scooped it into their dishes and set them down. They dove in with gusto.
Leaning her hip against the counter, she snapped a few pictures on her phone. Their fluffy tails swished, their whiskers twitching in delight as they devoured their meal. Finding the cutest shots, she sent them to her parents.
Her mother’s reply was instant. What cute grand-kitties!
Cora chuckled, shaking her head. Grand-kitties. Her mother would much prefer actual grandkids, she was sure. Well, that wasn’t happening anytime soon… if ever. The thought carried a bittersweet edge, and she sighed, pushing it away. Her gaze drifted to the cats, now finished with dinner and meticulously washing their whiskers in the middle of the kitchen.
Kneeling again, she stroked their fur, murmuring to them. They purred in reply, grounding her in their quiet companionship. Rising, she turned her attention to fixing her dinner. The routine task gave her time to think, though her thoughts inevitably strayed to the event she was attending the following evening.
The hospital was hosting a retirement party for one of the administrators, a dinner at a nice restaurant in Virginia Beach. Typically, the idea of mingling at a party filled her with dread, but it might be bearable if she could sit near someone she knew. No awkward small talk with strangers. She sighed.
The thought of Jeremy Pickett flitted through her mind again… far too frequently, in her opinion. He would undoubtedly love a large gathering as he charmed his way through any social setting without a second thought. She frowned, determined to push thoughts of him out of her mind. Not tonight, Pickett. You’re not taking up any more of my brain space.
After washing her plate, she retreated to the sanctuary of her bathroom. The deep tub beckoned, and she sank into the warm water with a contented sigh. But it didn’t take long for her resolve to falter. As she reclined against the bath pillow, her thoughts wandered, and there he was again. That damn smile, the way his eyes always seemed to glint with humor, and the inexplicable ease with which he seemed to command every room he entered.
She groaned softly, willing her mind to shift gears. Work. She’d think about the cases on her desk, particularly Fred Rudolph. But even as her thoughts touched on his case, they circled back to Jeremy. It was becoming a frustratingly familiar pattern. She closed her eyes and let the water soothe her, even as her mind refused to let go of the man who had no business occupying so much of her thoughts.
* * *
Cora leaned toward Sarah, the older woman’s voice soft but animated as she recounted her grandson’s budding interest in medicine. Sarah’s silver bob caught the light as she gestured, and her enthusiasm was infectious.
“I have no idea if you’d ever be interested in talking to him,” Sarah said hesitantly, “but?—”
“Sarah, I’d love to talk to him,” Cora interrupted warmly. “You know, my father’s a neurosurgeon. I may have started in medicine because it was expected of me,” she admitted with a sheepish grin, “but when I found research and pathology, I knew I’d found my true calling. It just took him a little while to accept my niche.”
Sarah chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, thank you! When he started asking me about research, you were the first person I thought of. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for him to talk to.”
Cora glanced around the long, lively table at the edge of the restaurant, silently thanking her lucky stars she’d maneuvered her way into sitting beside Sarah. They’d bonded quickly over shared experiences, and despite their age gap and differing roles in medicine, the friendship felt natural and comforting.
Laughter burst from the other end of the table, drawing Cora’s attention. For her, this was perfect—sitting at a large table but not feeling lost in the crowd, finding meaningful one-on-one conversation rather than trying to navigate a cacophony of overlapping voices.
Cora found herself enjoying the evening more than she’d anticipated. Across from her, a researcher from a different hospital had also provided easy conversation when they discovered they had known some of the same doctors at Duke.
Leaning back, she savored the last bite of her dessert, chasing it with a sip of wine. A sense of contentment washed over her, a blend of good food, lively energy around her, and the gentle warmth of the wine humming through her.
She glanced at her watch, noting the hour. Though she wasn’t on call tomorrow, the possibility of being pulled into work loomed, and the hour-long drive home beckoned. She debated whether it was too soon to leave when a few others at the table began to push back their chairs, initiating the rounds of hugs and goodbyes.
Relieved she didn’t have to be the first to go, Cora stood as well. Sarah followed, reaching out to embrace her warmly.
“You know,” Sarah said, pulling back just enough to meet Cora’s eyes, “tonight has made me realize how much I need to get out more. I feel like I’m either working or swept up in one of my husband’s schemes.”
Cora raised a curious brow. “Schemes?”
Sarah sighed dramatically, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “He retired last month and has since decided to take every class under the sun. Cooking, gardening, woodworking with the grandkids—you name it, he’s doing it. He even mentioned ballroom dancing.”
Cora’s brows shot up. “Oh.” It wasn’t her most articulate response, but the thought of tackling so many new hobbies all at once left her momentarily speechless.
“Yet,” Sarah continued, her tone softening, “after all these years in medicine, I know I need to find a balance. I’m not quite ready to let it go completely, but one of my biggest regrets is not spending more time with people I enjoy talking to. Like you, my dear.”
Cora smiled, genuinely touched. “Well, I don’t have a husband trying to sign me up for a thousand new hobbies,” she teased lightly, “but I’d love to get together anytime you want.”
They hugged again, the gesture warm and grounding. Cora turned and leaned across the table to shake hands with the researcher she’d chatted with earlier, exchanging a few kind words. With a wave to the others, she found herself enveloped in a bear hug from the evening’s honoree, his gratitude effusive.
Cora made her way down the hall toward the ladies’ room, grateful for a moment alone before the long drive home. The evening had been pleasant, but she was ready to trade the lively buzz of the restaurant for the quiet comfort of her cats. After finishing her business, she navigated the maze of tables, her thoughts drifting to the blissful stillness awaiting her at home.
She was almost to the exit when her name rang out, stopping her mid-step.
“Dr. Wadsworth!”
Turning, she found Jeremy Pickett seated in a booth, his broad shoulders framed by the dark wood of the restaurant’s decor. Across from him sat a stunning blonde who, at first glance, made Cora’s stomach twist with a pang of unwelcome envy.
For a fleeting second, Cora considered picking the woman apart to find a flaw, but honesty got the better of her. The blonde was undeniably beautiful, and her makeup was perfectly applied to enhance her sharp cheekbones and full lips. Her pale blue dress clung in all the right places, dipping lower and fitting tighter than anything Cora would have felt comfortable wearing. Who am I kidding? I’m in scrubs or sweatpants ninety percent of the time. Even my “dress-up” look tonight is more casual than elegant.
She summoned a polite smile and approached, the restaurant’s noise fading into the background. “Detective Pickett. How nice to see you again.”
Jeremy’s mouth curved into a faint grin, though his gaze held hers with an intensity she couldn’t quite read. “I would’ve said hello earlier,” he said, leaning back slightly, his voice casual, “but I saw you were with a group and didn’t want to intrude.”
Cora blinked. His words didn’t match her impression of him at all. Jeremy Pickett didn’t strike her as the type to avoid doing something simply to be polite, especially if it was something he wanted to do. And besides, it wasn’t as though they were close enough to warrant a greeting in the first place. “One of the hospital administrators is retiring,” she explained, determined to keep the exchange brief.
The blonde shifted in her seat, perfectly manicured fingers tapping the edge of her wineglass before she cleared her throat. Cora’s gaze flicked to her, catching the woman throwing an exaggerated, saccharine smile in Jeremy’s direction.
But it wasn’t the blonde who caught her attention next—it was Jeremy’s response. His expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he leveled the woman with a pointed glare. No smile. No warmth. Just a hard glint in his eyes that spoke volumes without a word.
The air thickened with tension, and Cora didn’t have the energy for an awkward conversation, especially with Jeremy’s date bristling under the surface. It was time to bow out gracefully, but before she had a chance, it seemed Jeremy had other ideas.