“Go?” She looked up at him, her gaze slightly unfocused. “You want to go? Now?”

“It’s late, and ...”

“No, you’re right. It’s late.” She sat up, wondering what had just happened. One minute he had been kissing her as if he wanted to devour her body and soul, and the next, he wanted to go home. Had she missed something?

He leaned forward to lightly brush a stray wisp of hair from her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Sky, more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever known.”

She stared at him, confused by the mixed signals he was sending. He had kissed her, almost desperately, then said it was time to go. Now he was telling her she was beautiful. One of them was slightly crazy and she didn’t think it was her. “Thank you.”

“But you’re young, so young.”

“I’m not that young,” she protested.

“And you’re still grieving for your grandfather.” Thorne skimmed his knuckles over her cheek, tracing the tracks of her tears. “I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t help wishing that, just for tonight, he would have been a little less noble.

“Come on, Sky Blue.” Taking her hands in his, he stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter 4

Sky was fixing breakfast the next morning when Kaiden knocked on her front door.

“Hi,” he said. “I hope I’m not too early.”

“No, I was just fixing breakfast.”

“I was hoping we could go through Paddy’s files again. There must be something there that we missed.” There had to be. Time was running out.

“Sure, if you want. Come on in. Have you eaten?”

“No.” As much as he enjoyed eating, he didn’t care for cooking. Most of the time, he ate in restaurants or ordered take-out.

“Well, I’ve got enough for two if you like waffles and sausage.”

“I do, indeed.”

He followed her into the kitchen, then stood in the doorway.

Sky gestured at the table. “Please, sit down.” Moving to the counter, she removed the waffle she had fixed for herself from the waffle iron, put it on a plate, added some sausage links, and set it before him. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got coffee, tea, milk, orange juice ...”

“Orange juice, thanks.”

“Eat it while it’s hot,” she said, smiling. She poured batter onto the waffle iron, dumped the rest of the sausages into the frying pan, then filled a glass with juice.

He finished the waffle and sausage before hers had cooked.

“Do you want this one, too?” she asked, amused.

“No, thanks. But now a cup of coffee would hit the spot.”

She poured him a cup, served up her own breakfast, and sat down at the table across from him. “Are you sure I can’t fix you another waffle?”

He thought about it a minute, then shook his head. “I’m good.” He added milk and a generous amount of sugar to his coffee. “Home cooking is a rare treat for me.”

“I take it you’re not one of those bachelors who’s handy in the kitchen,” she remarked as she spread blueberry jam on her waffle.

“You got that right. Anything more than a bowl of cereal is beyond me,” he replied. “Although I grill a mean steak.”

“Well, at least you’re not totally helpless.” She finished her waffle and set her fork aside. “What will you do if we can’t find the formula?”

“I don’t know. Did Paddy have many visitors?”

“Sure, lots of people. A lot of the folks in town didn’t care for the new doctor, so even after Granda retired, some of his old patients came to him with their complaints.”

“Was there anybody who acted suspicious?”

“Suspicious? I don’t think so.” She frowned. “You know, now that you mention it, there was this one guy. I remember seeing him several times when I came home on vacation last year. I don’t think he was a patient, but I don’t think he was a friend, either.”

“What was his name?”

“I don’t know. I never heard it.” She took a drink of her orange juice, her brow furrowed. “I never saw his face, either. He always wore a long gray cloak with a hood, kind of like monks wear.”

A muscle throbbed in Thorne’s jaw. “Like a monk, you say. Was he tall?”

“Yes, very.” She leaned forward, her eyes alight with interest. “Do you know him?”

“No.” It couldn’t be Desmarais. The man had died years ago. Or so everyone thought.

Sky leaned forward, her arms folded on the table. “Then how do you know he was tall?”

“I didn’t. It was just a question.”

“Hmm. Why don’t I believe you?”

He offered her his most winning smile. “I don’t know.”

With a little huff of annoyance, Sky rose and began to clear the table. Drat the man! He knew something, all right, but what? And how was she going to find out?

After Sky finished cleaning up the kitchen, Thorne followed her down to the basement. He paused in front of the door to the lab. “We haven’t looked in there.”

“I don’t think Granda kept any of his notes in the lab. He always recorded them in one of his journals and then locked them in one of the file cabinets.”

“Have you been inside the room since he passed away?”

“No.” As a little girl, Sky had never liked going into the lab because her grandfather had sometimes done experiments on animals, and even though he had claimed he never hurt any of them, she couldn’t stand to think about the cute little black-and-white mice and rats or guinea pigs getting shots, or worse.

“Couldn’t hurt to have a look around,” Thorne remarked.

“I guess not.” Sky unlocked the door and switched on the overhead light. And blinked in astonishment at the utter disarray that met her eyes. Tables lay on their sides, broken vials, tubes, and beakers were strewn around the floor. The large glass-fronted cabinet that had held a number of jars and bottles had been ransacked. Broken glass crunched beneath her feet as she moved farther into the room. The door on the right side of the cabinet was open, the contents scattered. Someone had picked the locks on the three drawers on the left side and rummaged through them before tossing the drawers and their contents aside.




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