Chapter 3
Chapter Three
EVERETT
“Will I have to get a shot?” Logan asks from the passenger seat.
I wince. “Tetanus booster, I think.”
He slumps back against the seat. “Can Uncle Sepp do it?”
“We can ask when we get inside.”
I pull into the parking lot of Finn River Pediatrics and back my SUV into a slot at the end of the row. Though I’m technically not on duty for this hour of family leave for Logan’s annual checkup, readiness is a habit.
Outside, the warm summer air smells of flowers and pinesap from the row of tall trees lining the back of the lot. Logan falls in next to me on the walkway, his shoulders slumped. I push through the glass doors. While I check in with the receptionist, Logan wanders toward the padded chairs lined up against the far wall. Dr. Greely—Ava—and I went to high school together. She took over Dr. Boone’s practice over a year ago, and her touch is everywhere. There’s a new playhouse in the corner for the littles and bean bag chairs with a library of graphic novels and fidget toys for older kids in the other corner, and the walls are now a soft yellow instead of the old stark white.
I drop into a chair next to Logan when his name is called. We both stand, but the woman waiting at the entrance to the patient area in pink scrubs holding a tablet freezes me in my tracks.
It’s the nurse who helped out at that wreck. The one with the attitude.
The one who dropped off five new pairs of insulated work gloves for all our deputies a week later. No note, but based on her description, I’m sure it was her.
She works here?
Thankfully, Logan passes in front of me, giving me a second to reclaim my bearings.
When we enter the patient area, Sepp looks up from his workspace behind the counter. “Hey, guys.”
Vivian whirls around, her eyes narrowed.
Sepp flashes his palm in my direction. “Vivian, this is my brother, Everett, and my nephew, Logan.”
Sepp has mentioned a coworker named Vivian a couple of times, but I didn’t put it together. That’s not like me, but then again, the past sixteen months have been the most challenging of my career.
“We’ve met, actually,” Vivian says with a terse nod.
“Oh?” Sepp cocks his head.
“On my drive to Finn River,” Vivian continues, not meeting my eyes. “There was an accident on the road. I stopped to help.”
Sepp arches an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Vivian leads us into an exam room.
“Hop up, Logan, and I’ll get a set of vitals,” Vivian says, hooking the step under the exam table with the toe of her tennis shoe to slide it out.
Logan climbs up and slides off his hoody so she can get the BP cuff on while I lower into one of the two chairs against the opposite wall.
Vivian keeps her focus on Logan while getting his vital signs. She’s efficient and warm with him, even laughing at something he says.
Who cares if she doesn’t like me? I’m a cop. It’s part of the job.
Her long hair is tied back in a braid that swings between her shoulder blades, and silver hoops adorn her earlobes. Beneath her scrubs top, she’s wearing a cream-colored waffle-knit thermal shirt printed with tiny blue flowers. So, she hasn’t acclimated to our mountain temperatures yet. How’s her son doing? How are they liking Finn River? Why’d she move from California?
Enough. Vivian Reece isn’t my business .
Vivian hands Logan a clipboard and a pen. “Go ahead and fill this out. Dr. Greely should be in soon.”
“Want me to go ask Uncle Sepp about the shot?” I ask Logan once the door is closed.
A pink tint colors his neck, but he keeps his focus on the questionnaire. “Um, that’s okay.”
This shouldn’t irk me. So what if Vivian’s managed to charm my kid in ten minutes?
After Dr. Greely’s exam, she asks me to step out so she and Logan can have a chat about whatever he entered in that mental health questionnaire. Sepp warned me it was coming this year, but my chest is still tight when I close the door behind them.
Logan lived only with his mother his first six months, in conditions I don’t like to think about. Had I known about him sooner, I would have done things differently. There’s a very real possibility whatever trauma he experienced before I brought him home is going to manifest at some point in his life. Maybe as anxiety or depression. Or learning challenges. It’s not that I don’t think we can tackle them together, but I hate thinking that his mother’s neglect could cause him even more suffering.
But Dr. Greely is all smiles when she invites me back into the room. Logan’s doing great. Once Sepp prints out the sports physical he needs for football and soccer this year, we’re on our way.
“I guess we’ll see you at the wedding,” I tell Dr. Greely in parting. She and another good friend of mine from high school, Ryan Hutchins, have been in love for as long as I’ve known them and are finally tying the knot next month.
Dr. Greely’s soft brown eyes light up. “Yep.” She gives Logan a wink. “Kids are welcome.”
“Vivian’s bringing Mateo,” Sepp remarks from his desk.
Right. Vivian will be at this wedding too.
We say our final goodbyes just as Vivian comes out of an exam room. Our eyes lock for an instant before she shifts her attention to the tablet in her hands.
I read people for a living, and my initial interpretation of Vivian Reece has only been confirmed. She may be proficient at her job and warm with her patients and coworkers, but she wants nothing to do with me.
Which suits me just fine.
I duck under the welcome shade of the wedding tent and join Sepp and his partner Hudson in line for a drink. Music pumps from the sound system on the other side of the wedding grounds, blending with the cheerful hubbub of conversations and laughter from the guests.
“Logan with your folks tonight?” Hudson asks.
“He chose their puppies over me.” I fake-clutch my heart.
“Imagine that?” Hudson replies, laughing.
“Sure was a beautiful ceremony,” Sepp says. Hudson peels away to hug a pair of older women, his hearty laugh rising above the din.
Over his shoulder, I catch sight of Vivian talking with Jesse Whittaker, who has a giant camera slung around his neck. Jesse’s daughter, Skye, and Mateo are sitting at a nearby table, sharing a bowl of snacks, both nursing what looks like Shirley Temples.
Since that night in the blizzard, Mateo’s grown taller, his face tanned after our long summer, and he’s missing a front tooth. Vivian looks different too in her pale pink dress, her long brown hair hanging down her back in soft waves.
The stirring of an emotion I can’t place tightens behind my breastbone.
Is it that I don’t like her with Jesse, of all people? I haven’t arrested him since before Skye came along, and I want to believe he’s finally got his shit together, but I also know some habits die hard. Or is it that I don’t like Vivian with anyone?
“What’s going on between you two?” Sepp says, snapping my attention away from Vivian and the way Jesse is smiling at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Did you say something to piss her off?”
I flash my palms. “Before Logan’s checkup, I hadn’t seen her since the blizzard.”
“Then why did it get so tense in the office the minute you walked in?”
“How the fuck should I know?” I study the sign hanging above the makeshift bar even though I already know I’m having a beer.
“I’ve been trying to get her to one of mom and dad’s weekly dinners for a year, but she turns me down every time.” He takes a half step in front of me, so I’m forced to look at him. He’s shorter than me, but he’s a notorious shit-stirrer, starting with his laser-beam glare. “Are you the reason?”
I shrug. “Big families aren’t for everyone.”
He crosses his arms. “Be nice to her.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m nice to everyone.”
“Like hell. You gave Hudson that speeding ticket.”
I laugh. “He was speeding. And I was very nice about it.”
By the time we move to the dance floor, I’ve snuck looks at Vivian at least a dozen times. At dinner, she and Mateo sat with Jesse and Skye, and Sepp and Hudson. She’s got this warm smile, and she laughs a lot. She also affectionate and attentive with her son, and it’s easy to see how he lights her up.
What have I done to get the cold shoulder ?
The thought makes me tired. Or maybe it’s that I’m exhausted. Last night I was up late reviewing Marin Lamber’s murder case. I refuse to let it go cold, but we haven’t had a new lead in months. I’m due to update her parents soon, and I have nothing to report. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Her killer is still out there. Free.
“Group photo!” Jesse calls after the bride and groom have their first dance, beckoning to the guests huddling around the edges of the dance floor.
Everyone crowds together while Jesse grabs a chair and positions it so he can get the whole crowd.
I squeeze in and the crowd presses close. We yell “peanuts!” at Jesse’s command while his shutter whirs, and before he can climb down, the DJ gets rolling with a popular song. It’s loud and catchy, and all around me people start jumping around and dancing. It’s like being inside a bouncy house, and though I try to weave my way out, I get knocked into someone.
I only get the flash of long dark hair and pale pink satin before I have the woman around the waist.
Shit. It’s Vivian.
We stare at each other. She’s breathing hard and her eyes are dark in this crowded space. Her long hair is tousled about her pretty face, and her lips are a soft, glossy pink.
“Sorry about that,” I manage, and release her.
She was already starting to push away from me, so it takes her a step to get her balance. “It’s okay,” she says, her nostrils flaring.
Why is she lying to me?
I turn away and weave through the crowd, then grab one of the glasses of iced water set up on the table and guzzle it down.
But it does little to quench the heat coursing through me.
It makes no sense. Vivian obviously wants nothing to do with me. But if that were true, why that intense look on her face? Why is my pulse pounding out of control after barely touching her?