Chapter 24 – Violet
Drew, Rae and Zach had joined Lee in the living room by the time I returned from fixing my hair. He didn’t seem drawn to the kitchen with Anya in charge.
“Hey, Vi,” Drew called, seeming oblivious to the glance Lee and I exchanged. “Good day at the shop?”
“Uneventful.”
Clay and Lucy arrived, filling out the last of our party, and I welcomed them before joining Anya in the kitchen. We worked quickly to put the finishing touches on dinner while Drew and Lee broke out the extra chairs.
We settled around the table with full plates. I endured some gentle teasing from my brothers about Lee’s showy promposal on the ferry, but they were more casual than in the past. Either they truly believed Lee was good for me, or they’d finally realized I was a grown-ass woman.
“How goes the latest book?” Clay asked in between bites.
“Mmph.” Lee kept his gaze on his plate.
“That’s author for ‘just okay,’” I translated.
Clay’s lips twitched. “For a man supposedly of many words, you know when to be brief.”
Zach coughed into his fist. “Unlike someone else we know.”
“Hey…” Clay said, “I’m sensitive, you know.”
Lucy covered his left hand with hers. “Sensitive like a brick, my love.”
I bit back a grin. Clay walked right into that one.
“Ouch.” Clay rubbed his chest, holding Lucy’s gaze for a heartbeat before his lips twitched into a grin, edging into a smirk that encompassed the entire table. “She gets me.” He sobered, focusing on Lee. “What’s the new book about?”
Carefully, Lee set down his fork, lifting his chin toward Clay. Something about the glint in his eyes had me rolling my lips together. My poker face was crap.
“A nosy park ranger who dies a horrible death.”
Wisely, Clay kept his mouth shut.
Anya chuckled. “Let me guess – Ray Clobertson is the name of the ranger who meets an untimely demise.” Drew tucked her beneath his shoulder, like even talking about fictional death made him want to reassure himself that she was okay.
Lee lifted one shoulder, expression enigmatic. “Right now, I just have him labeled Idiot Number One. Sometimes I name characters later.”
Lucy bumped gently against Clay’s shoulder and mock-whispered, “I think that’s your sign to stay off his shit list a while longer.”
“I don’t know, so long as we’re keeping things fictional, I’m okay being memorialized in print.”
The whole table chuckled, but I noticed how quickly everyone returned to their plates. Nobody wanted to be Idiot Number Two.
After dinner, Anya suggested a board game—because nothing said bonding like bloodthirsty competition.
Lee poured wine, and Zach mixed cocktails for those who wanted something stronger.
Anya snagged the seat next to mine, shooting me a conspiratorial wink, while Drew claimed my other side like a silent bodyguard.
Clay and Lucy anchored the far ends, their bickering already warming up for game mode, and Lee, Rae, and Zach settled across from us.
The table still smelled faintly of bacon and candle wax, but the air shifted as we crowded around the game board, the mood going from relaxed to razor-sharp in seconds.
We finished the first round with Anya as the clear winner, her grin broad. By round two, the rest of us were out for blood.
Lee lounged in his chair across from me, holding my stare like a satisfied jungle cat.
Almost smug. And why shouldn’t he be? We’d shared a rushed but fantastic orgasm only two hours ago, and he had amassed enough points to win this round if he didn’t blow it at the last minute. But I couldn’t let him win that easily.
Smoothly, I slipped my bare foot across the distance between us, finding his ankle. He raked his eyes over me, landing on my chest, as if he could see beneath my blue sweater to where my breasts tightened in anticipation. One orgasm with Lee would never be enough.
I tiptoed up his good ankle, stroking his calf beneath the table. Lee remained calm, holding my gaze as if I wasn’t trying to drive him crazy. I rubbed higher, reaching his knee.
Zach flinched and bit out, “Since that’s not Rae groping me, cut it out.”
I drew my foot back as if it’d been burned, my cheeks flushing hot.
Lee, ever my hero, jumped into the breach. “I saw Dr. Underwood today.”
“I noticed you’re out of your boot tonight. Congrats,” Anya said.
“Thanks,” Lee said gruffly. “I’m grateful to drive again, though I’m going to miss having Violet at my beck and call.”
Rae snorted. “I think we’ve all known you too long to believe that.”
“I already miss her.” Lee looked annoyed—whether with Rae for arguing or me for leaving, I wasn’t sure.
“That I believe. It’s the part about her being at your beck and call I’m calling bullshit on,” Rae said.
“She’s a very caring person.” There was a softness in Lee’s eyes that made me squirm.
“And an absolute tyrant,” Lucy said.
“Hey!” I couldn’t really be mad. She wasn’t wrong.
“Careful, Lucifer. I know someone else who resembles that remark,” Clay said.
“And you love it,” Lucy shot back.
Clay grinned, unrepentant. “Absolutely, I do.”
Lee cleared his throat. “Anyway, I also think there’s more to Dr. Underwood’s involvement with the scam at her husband’s art gallery than the authorities know.”
“What makes you say that?” Clay frowned.
“I’ve seen her medical practice up close. A few other patients checked in while I waited for my appointment this morning. Some looked incredibly sick. Of the two the receptionist helped, neither had a co-pay due.”
“Maybe they’re just on a different plan type, or already met their out-of-pocket max for the year,” Drew pointed out.
“Insurance is complicated. I work with a broker on plans for our family business and still don’t totally understand it.
Some medications are wildly expensive. Maybe enough to have fulfilled their max, even this early in the year. ”
“When I walked by the exam rooms, I noticed their patient files are a different color from mine.”
“Maybe they’re just sicker than you,” Anya said.
Lee coughed, looking sheepish. “I may have slipped out of my exam room and peeked at Leona Mark’s file.
She’s on Kalydeco. It’s one of the most expensive cystic fibrosis meds in the world.
After the rumors following Jordan’s death, I spent some time researching counterfeit medications and how they’re smuggled. ”
He glanced around the table. “It fits. What if Dr. Underwood commissioned Jordan Dawkins and Brandon Chen to smuggle counterfeit medications from Canada or parts unknown? They wash the money through her husband’s studio, giving patients a legal-ish way to pay Dr. Underwood for treatments she administers in her clinic.
How hard would it be for her to bill insurance the full cost of the medications and have her patients pay a reduced rate on the side for counterfeit meds, then take their uncollected co-pays as a tax write-off? ”
“Getting a judge to issue a warrant for patient records may be nearly impossible,” Rae pointed out. “I’m not sure how you could prove it.”
“And financial crimes aside, is she really hurting anyone? Isn’t she helping them afford treatment?” Lucy asked. “A lot of us would like to stick it to insurance companies.”
“I still think she’s dirty,” Lee said. “It’s one thing if she were helping her patients. But Treyvon Smith’s wife posted that his treatment failed, and he’s now in liver failure. They’re looking for a donor. Counterfeit meds aren’t necessarily effective. They could contain anything.”
“You could tell the sheriff,” Drew said.
“Yes, because coming to him as a thriller author, who creates fictional conspiracies for a living, makes my ideas very plausible.” Lee’s tone was dry as stale bread. “We have no real proof. Just suspicion.”
“I can whisper in Agent Harris’s ear,” Clay offered.
Lee lifted his shoulder. “It’s worth a shot. Maybe with their access to the gallery’s financials, they can uncover stronger ties.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Clay said.
A few minutes later, Lee slid his final card onto the table. “Bow before your new island overlord.”
Anya scowled. “I had you pinned as the slow and steady type, not the silent assassin.”
I laughed. She’d forgotten who she was dealing with. Lee always had plots for days, some so twisted, no one could see them coming.
We packed up the game, and our friends put on their jackets and shoes.
Anya gave me a mischievous smile. “I know Vi and Lee will be at the Sweetheart’s Dance next weekend, but does everyone else have tickets?” She fluttered her lashes at Drew. “You’re going with me, handsome.”
My brother’s besotted expression didn’t wane. Impressive, since Anya had talked him into dancing. In public.
“Isa can cover for you at Harbor Brews, right?” Rae asked Zach. He nodded. “Then I’ll pick up tickets for us tomorrow.”
“I picked up tickets for Lucifer and me last week,” Clay said with a cheeky smile for his girlfriend. “I still dream about your outfit at the Halloween event. I want to see if you can top it.”
“Too much information, Clay,” I chided, smiling at Lucy. She looked entirely too thoughtful. Like she was plotting something to bring him to his knees.
After a scatter of good nights, our friends left, leaving me alone with Lee in the kitchen. He hadn’t touched his jacket or shoes. But I also hadn’t seen an overnight bag.
I shifted from foot to foot, hiding the sudden spear of uncertainty.
“Am I still invited to stay?” Lee asked steadily, expression hungry. But not for food.
“That depends…” I drawled.
He arched one brow. “On?”
“How you feel about sex that lasts longer than ten minutes.”
He grabbed a towel, winding it up and snapping it at me. I danced away, laughing.
“You know I only rushed because we didn’t have more time.” He took aim again, managing a hit to my backside. It stung enough to make me rub my left cheek, turning his expression from triumphant to horny in a flash.
“I can rub that better for you.” He hid the towel behind his back like he hadn’t just created the problem he offered to solve.
Laughing, I danced away. “Only if you catch me first.”